Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Shit with his uncle is just… complicated.”
“I know it’s honorable and shit that he takes care of him, but he’s a better person than I am. I don’t think I could be a caretaker to someone who treats me like shit like that.”
“Eavesdropping?” Alaric asked, making me jump and turn guiltily.
“Busted,” I admitted, accepting the fresh margarita he passed to me.
Eddie had made three different kinds for the party.
Strawberry, tropical, and my personal favorite: watermelon.
“Oh, I probably shouldn’t,” I said, eyeing the frozen drink as the glass sweated in my hand.
“It’s a party. You’re supposed to do things you probably shouldn’t,” he said, reaching to lift the glass to my lips. I went ahead and took a sip.
“Says the guy who is going to need to carry me home later,” I said, taking another sip. “I’m a complete lightweight.”
I’d been raised to believe that it was a really bad thing to drink alone. And since I was always alone… I never drank. My tolerance was zero.
Just a couple sips into the first one, and I’d been feeling floaty. I’d babied the rest of it, sure it would be the last drink of the night, and wanting to savor it.
“I’m dying to see you drunk,” he admitted.
“I’m… less excited,” I admitted.
“You’re safe here with me,” he said, getting to the root of the problem. “What better way to learn what you’re like when you tie on one too many?”
“I can’t argue with that sound logic,” I agreed, tipping my drink up again.
Another drink and a half later, and we learned what kind of drunk I was. The girl who talked way too loud and wanted to talk to everyone.
In other words, the complete opposite of who I was in my normal life.
“She alright?” Alaric asked, coming into the kitchen where I was holding one of Eddie’s cookbooks up, marveling at how the words were all swimmy and blurry.
“She’s flyin’, man,” Eddie said with a laugh.
“Do the words always go swimmy when you’re drunk?” I asked, pulling the book in and then out again, squinting at the words that made no sense.
“Might help if—“ Alaric said, snatching the book from me, turning it, and giving it back, “you have it the right side up.”
“Oh!” I said, trying again. “No. I think this book is broken,” I told Eddie. “You should get a refund,” I told him as I set it back down.
“From my great grandma?” he asked, smiling at me. “Here, drink your water, pretty girl,” he said, pushing the bottle toward me.
“He’s been trying to drown me,” I told Alaric as I took a long sip.
“And by that I mean I made her drink a bottle, then handed her a second.”
“And if you’re wondering if his toast is as good as the rest of his food… it isn’t,” I told Alaric, sighing, as I lifted the hard rye bread, and dropped it back down onto the plate.
“Did you get any food in there?” Alaric asked.
“He made me eat a piece of this,” I said, waving toward the toast. “I’m not hungry,” I added, shaking my head.
“She did have all that pasta before she drank, man,” Eddie reasoned. “She’s just a lightweight.”
“I should get your pretty ass home, huh?” he asked.
“Frida!” I gasped, my hand flying to my heart.
“Baby, it’s only been a couple hours,” he assured me.
“No, that’s not right,” I said, shaking my head. I felt like I’d been very drunk for a very long time.
“It is. But she’s probably missing you, so we should get back to her.”
“I don’t think I’d pass a field sobriety test,” I told him, shaking my head solemnly.
“Good thing you’re not driving.”
“But I need to walk Frida.”
“You think the cops are gonna test you for walking your dog?” he asked, trying not to laugh at me.
“She’s gonna know I’m drunk,” I said, shaking my head.
“Don’t worry, she’ll still love you,” he told me. “How about we do this?” he asked, then reached down to scoop me up into his arms.
“Weeee!” I cheered even as the whole room spun.
“Oh, get that hunnie home,” Eddie said, laughing at my reaction. “Here. Make her drink this,” he said, placing a bottled electrolyte drink on my chest.
“See? He wants me to drown,” I told Alaric.
“Uh-huh,” he agreed, smile stretching enough to create little crinkles by his eyes.
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching up, running my fingers over them.
“You’re kind of pretty, you know that?” I asked.
I thought I was whispering, but judging by the girls we passed who laughed, I guess I’d yelled it.
“You’re prettier,” he countered.
“Nuh-uh. You are. I’ve read books about guys with faces like this,” I said, tracing my finger along his jaw.
“What kind of books?” he asked, his smirk telling me he knew exactly what kind of books.
“None of your business,” I declared, starting to press kisses down his jaw, then his neck. Finding his pulse there, I let my tongue tease out and move over it.