“I don’t even believe that. It’s fine, Lo.”
“I’ve been a jerk, so I want to help you,” he says in a breathless tone. “And there’s only one obvious solution.”
My forehead hurts from frowning so hard. Is he really going there? Does he want to have sex with me? For real?
“We can get you wasted so you won’t care about having sex. Then you’ll pass out and Daisy will be long gone tomorrow.”
The suggestion takes me aback because it’s not what I expected or kind of wanted to hear. I would have liked him to say, sleep with me, I want to be with you, for real. Hell yes, I would have replied. Even if monogamy scares me more than anything, I would try it. For the whole purpose of having Loren Hale. I think I’ve always wanted it. With him. But I’m not so sure he feels the same. This is a letdown, but at least it’s a solution. “That’s a good idea.”
“Yeah?” Does he seem bummed out by my sudden acceptance of it? I can’t tell. “Well, good thing I know someone who’s an expert in the field of alcohol. He can set you up real nice.”
“Just tell this guy not to make me so drunk that I puke,” I warn.
“Barfing is unacceptable, got it.” We rise from the floor and reenter the bedroom, and I lose my shakiness to a smidge of excitement at something new—with him mostly. I usually don’t drink at all throughout the night. Lo’s never told me outright, but I can tell he likes me better when I’m sober. Maybe so I can drive and help him regain consciousness, but sometimes, I think it’s more than that.
I sit on the edge of his bed and cross my ankles. “Are you going to make me something that I can actually drink?”
“I think I have flavored rum somewhere. It’ll be easier going down.” He spends a few minutes concocting a very large drink, filled in an over-sized, super-wide water bottle.
“Ugh…” I hold the cold concoction. “Am I going to die?”
“There’s more Diet Fizz in there than rum, I promise.”
I take a tentative sip, and when it doesn’t burn, I take a much larger one.
His smile grows. “Good?”
“Tastes like coconut.”
“That’s the rum.” He plops on the bed beside me, and has a much smaller glass of whiskey in hand, being economic on his sips. In a matter of minutes, I down the whole drink but barely feel a thing. Maybe it hasn’t kicked in yet.
I glance at Lo. The way he watches me with rapt attention sets my whole body aflame. I just want him on me. In me. Dear God. “More,” I tell him. “Maybe I should take some shots.”
“I don’t know your limit,” he says, standing. “And the whole point of this isn’t to get you sick.” He fixes another mild drink. I can barely look at him without imagining his body on mine.
I join him by the desk and grab a shot glass. “I need something with a higher alcohol content.” Before he can protest, I pour some of his whiskey into a shot.
“A whiskey shot?” he says with raised eyebrows. “Really? You’re going to fucking gag, Lily.”
I narrow my eyes in challenge, and then throw back the liquor in my throat.
I gag. But I do manage to swallow it down without spitting it back up.
He cocks his head to the side like told you so.
I touch my neck. “That was horrible. I think my insides are burning.” I try to clear my throat.
“Now you’re just being dramatic.”
He pours me a shot of something clear and then something else and holds both of them up. “Vodka. Cranberry juice.”
I nod and drink the first and wash it down with the second. Ah, much better.
He shakes his head at me. “You done?”
I run my eyes over his abs, and the spot between my legs clenches. No, no, no. “Another.”
I barely hear him mutter, “This is stupid.” Hey, it was his idea, but I can tell he’s rethinking it. A lot. An hour later, one more drink and a few more shots, I head to the bed and the whole world sways. Whoa.
I think it’s hitting me.
I fall backwards onto the mattress. I can’t see my feet. Everything swirls, and I no longer…even a little…care about sex. Hell, I don’t think my body is capable of moving on its own accord right now.
I lie supine on the bed and stare at Lo as he shambles about the room, cleaning up spills and shutting away bottles.
“Lo…ren,” I say his name that feels funny on my tongue. “Ren…lo.” I smile stupidly.