The tequila was smooth down my throat, its familiar sting comforting me in the strangest way. Alcohol didn’t affect us in the same way as humans. The bartender would call us alcoholics with the amount of liquor it would take to get shifters intoxicated the same as a human. Luckily, I didn’t partake in drinking much, and it wouldn’t take me nearly as much as other shifters.
Oliver, my bar mate, was friendly and easy to talk to. He had plenty of jokes, and although it took my mind off Rush for a few minutes, there was nothing I wanted more than to go back in time before I met Oliver or Rush or anyone from that town.
Soon, my body began to slouch, finally feeling the weight of the tequila in my veins.
“Finally drunk, are ya?” Oliver chortled.
I lifted my face and tried to appear sober. “No, I am not,” I slurred, smiling flirtatiously. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“I’m not so sure.” He smirked.
I sat up straighter. “Well, if I was drunk, could I do this?” I asked as I touched the top of my finger to my nose.
“Probably,” Oliver said flatly, daring me to do something more dangerous.
“Well, what about this?” I stood up from my seat and sat on the edge of a tall, sturdy, wooden table. My legs flew into the air as I tried to kick them up high enough to touch the tops of my outstretched fingers.
“You probably could do that, as well.” He laughed and stood, reaching his hand out for me. Oliver’s hand reached out and grabbed my calf in some attempt to help steady me as I teetered close to the edge of the table. “But why don’t you come down from there, ya?”
“I quite like it up here,” I noted, looking out on everyone around me. The door to the bar opened and let in a stream of light. Kenna’s face appeared in the creak. “Kenna!”
“Sloane,” she half shouted, half cursed. “What are you doing? Rush is outside tearing into every store and restaurant in town looking for you. Get over here!”
She was overshadowed by Oliver’s tall, skinny frame. He reached his hand out more directly, urging me to listen to my only friend.
“You both are boring,” I teased, snorting at my own words. I placed my tequila glass on the table. Oliver relaxed his hand, thinking I was coming down, but I only relaxed back against the table, laying over it like a swimsuit model. My head tilted back, creating a streamline from my extended legs to my neck.
“Sloane,” Kenna called, looking anxiously at the door.
“What?” I asked innocently. The door opened again, and the light only entered for a moment, someone’s large body blocking the sun. “Uh oh.”
“Uh oh?” My mate’s voice became very close to my ear, and I turned my head quickly, nearly colliding with him in the process. He looked into my red eyes, flushed face, red cheeks, and narrowed his eyes. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” I declared loudly. “Just ask my friend Oliver, I did things I could not do if I was drunk.” I didn’t think about the context of my words, and Rush turned to Oliver with vicious intent. I grabbed his arm, pulling him back to me. “No, no, Rush. Not like that!”
He began breathing deeply, shaking. Oliver’s eyes widened, and he stumbled backward.
“You’re one of those werewolf things, aren’t you?” he stuttered, his face becoming pale and clammy.
“We need to leave,” Rush grunted. His arm hooked under my legs and back, and he lifted me effortlessly off the table.
“Bye, Oliver, see you soon,” I sang as we exited. Oliver’s face paled, and he shook at my words.
There was a car waiting for us outside of the bar, and Rush loaded me into the passenger seat. He climbed in the other side of the car and peeled out of the parking spot. Another car behind us held Kenna and two Warriors.
I clumsily fell into the crack between our seats and was choked by the seatbelt. It was a struggle to sit up, and the fast-moving world around me made me nauseous.
“Rush, slow down,” I whimpered, reaching out for his arm. He shrugged me off and accelerated down the road. “Rush, please.”
“How could you be so stupid?” he asked. His words cut through the liquor stupor, and I felt them attack my heart. I never wanted to embarrass Rush, I never wanted to embarrass anyone, but somehow, I continued to let people down.
“Rush,” I whispered, barely parting my lips.
His fists clenched the steering, jaw straining against his unshaven cheek.
“Rush, pull over,” I yelped quickly. He glanced over at my face and stopped the car on the side of the road. I threw the door open and collapsed on the ground, heaving the contents of my stomach onto the pavement.
Hands lifted my hair back and pulled my body towards someone else. I continued to vomit on the ground as Rush stroked my hair, holding onto me like I was suddenly going to crawl away from him.
I sunk into Rush’s body, exhausted, shaking.
“What were you thinking?” he said softly. My head fell back, weakly onto his arm, and I saw him looking down at me with tenderness. His thumb continued to stroke my head.
“I-”
“Something could have happened to you,” he breathed. I didn’t know how to answer. My stomach heaved again, and I tried to sit up. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“Then don’t treat me like I’m nothing,” I mumbled, eyes closing in defeat. He pulled me onto his lap and nuzzled my hair with his nose. He grabbed my chin in his hand and lifted it until I was level with his.
“I promise, I’ll be better,” he said hesitantly. “I’m not used to this, Sloane.” His face drooped, but my drunken mind didn’t feel
