Seventy-Nine

ELLIOT'S POV

"Hey, Elliot. Hurry it up, will you?" Drew called from his place on the couch. "You have been there for like ages. I'm thirsty."

I shot a glare in the general direction of the couch on which Drew lay sprawled. To pour the drinks, I had to have both hands free. So I carefully set down my laptop on the counter of the mini bar. I began to reach for the drinks, then I paused as I remembered to save what I was working on on my computer. I quickly saved it. I didn't bother to carefully select a drink from the vast array that was available. I merely grabbed the first bottle my hand could reach and grabbed a glass. With the bottle and glass in one hand, my laptop held cautiously, almost reverently in the other, I returned to the living room and plonked on the couch.

Drew, who was chewing something he had gotten from the fridge, dragged his eyes from the television. His gaze lighted on the bottle of wine I had brought.

"Wow. Thanks, man," he said. "That's my favourite."

He reached