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Seth was now drinking something orange and fruity looking, and his face had that slightly pink tinge to it that signified his passing tipsy and heading towards drunk. One of the men, a model-hot guy with an expertly tousled head of black hair, had his hand on Seth’s lower back. What the fuck, he hadn’t been gone that long.
Andy debated his options. He could let whatever was happening happen, drink both the whiskeys himself, find someone of his own to hook up with. That was the more rational option. Or he could try to intervene.
Fuck it, he thought, and he pushed his way through the rest of the way to their table.