Her response to that is to take a healthy pull from her glass. At least the taste and smell of alcohol is enough to clear the lingering smell of blood out of her nose.

"I have your number," she says, as close as she comes to agreeing to call him. She'd like to believe she won't need to, or that if it gets that bad she can trust herself to drink responsibly. But she doesn't like lying to herself all that much—maybe she'll be up to it, but there's no knowing how hard you'll fall until you're hit. "Take care of yourself."