He’d had a Coors Lite with the meal already.“Muslims don’t drink,” said Mo. He’d said so at the restaurant and again here.“Some Muslims do...” argued Mia, “and I’m not saying drink a lot. Just have a lager like everyone else.”“Okay I guess so, thanks.” Paul went with the flow, as usual. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and he was in a club, for the first time. In clubs you drank. Maybe it would loosen up his dancing.“Proper Muslims don’t drink at all,” said Mo. “I’ll just have an orange juice.. We didn't talk much; there wasn't much reason for words. We just so enjoyed existing side-by-side. Finally Lily whispered, "We're both super-smart. Why don't we invent something that makes us so rich we never have to worry about jobs and money, so we can just stay like this forever?"For over an hour we stayed just like that, lightly snuggling and nuzzling and watching the pretty waves roll in off the Gulf. Sometimes we would connect for coy little kisses. Eventually we started getting a little. More

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