"TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME! TAKE ME OUT WITH THE CROWD!"
Davies Bar had descended into glorious chaos.
A group of middle-aged patrons who had spent most of the evening glued to the baseball game were now far too drunk to care about the score.
With their arms slung over one another’s shoulders, they swayed in a crooked circle, belting out the song at the top of their lungs.
Most had forgotten the lyrics halfway through, replacing them with enthusiastic shouts while beer sloshed from their mugs onto the sawdust-covered floor.
At the center of it all, Adrian was having the time of his life.
What had started as an ordinary round of drinks had somehow turned into a full-blown chugging contest between him and a grizzled local regular. The crowd had gathered around their table, eagerly cheering on the two men as though they were competing for a championship title.
"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"
Fists pounded against the sticky tabletop as both men tipped their longneck bottles back. Amber liquid rushed down their throats, and the spectators roared their approval.
The older man put up a respectable fight, but by the third consecutive bottle, his stomach finally rebelled. He let out a miserable groan, slammed his bottle onto the table, and raised a trembling hand in surrender.
Adrian, meanwhile, drained the last drop and set his empty bottle down with a casual flick of his wrist.
The bar erupted.
"Three wins in a row! The kid’s unstoppable!"
"Seriously, where the hell does he put it all?"
Of course, none of them knew about the secret behind Adrian’s ridiculous stamina. Without the system’s timely 80% boost, he would have been sprawled across the floor at least forty minutes ago.
His defeated opponent wiped the foam from his gray stubble and shook his head in disbelief. After a moment, he let out a theatrical groan and slapped a crumpled fifty-dollar bill onto the table.
"Take it, you monster. You’ve earned it."
[Ding!]
[Victory Detected!]
[Congratulations, Host! You have been awarded $5,000!]
Adrian pocketed the money with a satisfied grin.
Five thousand dollars from the system just for drinking beer. As far as side hustles went, this was considerably better than working in corporate banking.
Over at the far end of the bar, Roxanne slowly turned the stem of her glass between her fingers, watching him with an amused smile.
She had spent the better part of an hour observing his increasingly outrageous behavior, and the spectacle only seemed to get better with time. The more alcohol he consumed, the less Adrian appeared to care about what anyone thought of him.
’He’s officially past his limit.’
She was about to check the time when an unsteady shadow fell across her table.
A heavyset man with a flushed face leaned against the mahogany bar beside her. The stench of cheap bourbon followed him, along with the sort of confidence that usually disappeared the moment someone sobered up.
"Hey there, gorgeous..." He flashed her an oily grin. "How about you ditch this dump and come back to my place? I can show you a much better time."
Roxanne slowly turned her head.
She didn’t answer. She simply looked at him.
Her dark eyes were cold enough to make the man’s drunken confidence evaporate on the spot. His grin faltered, and he swallowed nervously under her silent scrutiny.
"Right. Well, have a good night."
He raised both hands in surrender before retreating toward the other end of the bar, apparently deciding that someone else might be more receptive to his advances.
Roxanne watched him leave before checking the slim watch on her wrist.
"Ten-thirty already?"
She had intended to leave at 9:45. Somehow, Adrian’s private circus had kept her entertained for far longer than she’d anticipated.
With a sigh, she straightened the lapels of her fur wrap and pushed her barely touched cocktail aside. The man had provided more entertainment than the bar itself, but she’d had enough for one evening.
She rose from her stool.
Then she glanced toward the center of the room and stopped.
Adrian was struggling to get out of his chair.
The undisputed champion of the evening was now listing dangerously to one side, his eyes glazed over and his movements slowed to a clumsy crawl. He managed to stand, swayed for a moment, then nearly toppled over.
Roxanne stared at him.
’What a headache. This man is an absolute menace.’
If she left him alone, he probably wouldn’t make it to the curb without stumbling into traffic, getting robbed, or introducing his face to the pavement.
With a resigned sigh, she strode over and caught him by the wrist just as his knees threatened to give way.
"Whoa..." Adrian blinked at her, struggling to focus. "Where are we going?"
"Home."
Roxanne slipped an arm around his waist to keep him upright.
"Where’s your apartment?"
"Home?" He repeated the word as though she’d presented him with a profound philosophical question.
Then, without warning, his face lit up.
"I live in Norway! With the Viking clans!"
He threw his head back and unleashed a drunken roar.
"RAAAARRR!"
The nearby patrons burst into laughter, and a few even raised their glasses in salute.
Roxanne closed her eyes for a moment.
’Give me strength.’
Fortunately, the two thousand dollars they’d paid toward the bar tab had covered the drinks and the festivities, so she didn’t have to waste any more time settling the bill.
She tightened her grip on Adrian and dragged the self-proclaimed Viking toward the exit.
The moment they stepped outside, the cool night air hit them. Adrian barely reacted. He simply mumbled something incomprehensible as Roxanne maneuvered him into the passenger seat of her G-Class.
She fastened his seat belt, shut the door, and walked around to the driver’s side.
"You’re coming to my place," she informed him after getting behind the wheel. "You’ll sleep on the couch. Understood?"
Adrian responded with a low grunt, his head already resting against the window.
"Wonderful."
Shaking her head, Roxanne started the engine and pulled into the late-night traffic.
Twenty minutes later, the heavy iron gates of Richmans Estate swung open, allowing the matte-black SUV into one of the city’s most exclusive residential enclaves.
Roxanne’s villa was the sort of property that made its owner’s wealth impossible to ignore. A winding driveway cut through perfectly trimmed gardens, while symmetrical topiaries framed a marble fountain that shimmered beneath the stars. Beyond the house, a heated infinity pool glowed pale blue in the moonlight.
She parked near the entrance, stepped out, and circled around to Adrian’s side.
Getting him out of the vehicle was the easy part.
Getting him through the double doors and across the polished foyer was another matter entirely.
He stumbled at every other step, forcing Roxanne to shoulder most of his weight. By the time they reached the living room, she was beginning to question every decision that had led her here.
With one final effort, she dumped him onto the deep leather sofa.
Adrian sank into the cushions like a man who had just completed a marathon.
Roxanne planted her hands on her hips, breathing a little harder than she’d have liked.
"Unbelievable. You drink yourself half to death and can’t even remember your own address."
Adrian blinked up at her.
He didn’t look particularly concerned by her irritation. If anything, he seemed perfectly content with his new surroundings.
Roxanne let out another sigh and switched off the overhead lights. She left the sheer curtains open, allowing silver moonlight to spill through the tall windows and wash across the living room.
The sudden quiet made the house feel even larger.
For a moment, she stood beside the sofa, watching Adrian’s chest rise and fall. Despite his ridiculous behavior, she wanted to make sure he was at least breathing properly before leaving him to sleep.
She was about to turn away when his voice broke the silence.
Low, husky, and surprisingly clear, it sounded nothing like the slurred nonsense he’d been spouting all evening.
"You look like an angel in the moonlight, Roxanne."
She froze.
Slowly, she turned back toward him.
"What did you say?"
Adrian gazed up at her, his dark eyes following her movements. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"You’re sweet. And cute."
Roxanne raised an eyebrow.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah." His gaze drifted over her face. "And that dark hair... Your figure is incredible."
He swallowed, then looked directly into her eyes.
"You really shouldn’t sleep alone down the hall tonight."
For the briefest moment, Roxanne felt something flutter in her chest.
She was accustomed to corporate executives laying on the charm, usually with an ulterior motive hidden behind every compliment. Flattery was practically a second language in her world.
But Adrian’s words came without the usual polished delivery or calculated smile. He looked at her as though he’d simply noticed something beautiful and couldn’t see any reason to keep it to himself.
The sincerity caught her off guard.
Only for a second, though.
"You’re out of your mind," she replied, recovering quickly. "Now go to sle..."
She stopped.
Adrian had suddenly pushed himself upright.
The movement was so swift that she barely had time to react before he was standing directly in front of her. The distance between them had disappeared, leaving her looking up at him in the pale moonlight.
Some of the buttons on his shirt had come undone during the drinking contest, exposing the firm lines of his chest. His hair was slightly disheveled, and the faint flush across his face made him look even more reckless than usual.
He was close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him.
Roxanne steadied herself and refused to step back.
"What do you think you’re doing, Adrian?"
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips.
"You know what I want."
He leaned closer.
"I want you..."
He never finished the sentence.
Roxanne planted three slender fingers against the center of his chest and gave him a sharp shove.
Adrian staggered backward before landing heavily on the sofa.
"B-but, Roxanne..."
Thwack!
A thick down pillow struck him squarely in the face.
"Goodnight, Adrian."
Her voice was cool enough to freeze the room.
Without sparing him another glance, she turned on her heels and strode down the corridor. A moment later, her bedroom door clicked shut.
Then came the unmistakable sound of the deadbolt sliding into place.
Adrian remained sprawled across the sofa, the pillow covering half his face.
For several seconds, he stared blankly at the vaulted ceiling.
Then his eyelids began to droop.
His breathing gradually settled, before finally drifting into a dreamless sleep.