18
“What you gonna do, drink it?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, making his biceps bulge beautifully.
“Maybe I will.” I pull the bottle out from behind my back and eye it. It’s a little intimidating in its brown bottle. I sniff the rim. Smells a bit like turpentine. Maybe it’s not really drinkable.
Caleb towers over me. He’s all in my space and my body seems to love it. I touch my tongue to the glass.
“You wouldn’t,” he says.
Now I have something to prove. “Bottoms up.” I take a swig.
Next thing I know I’m bent over, gasping, as lighter fluid sears my insides.
“Miranda,” he yelps, and pounds my back. There’s a smoking pit where my stomach used to be. It’s the first time he’s said my name, and I like the way it sounds. Especially with that note of concern.
“Damn,” I cough, my eyes streaming. “That really cleans out the pipes.”
“I thought you were going to take a sip, not drink half the damn bottle.” He must have saved the bottle from tumbling out of my nerveless hands, because he sets it on the counter with a thud.
“Your turn,” I rasp.
“No way.” He propels my willing body into a chair.
“You’re the one who wanted it back. I dare you.”
“No.”
I point to the bottle. “Chicken.”
His eyes narrow. Inwardly, I crow. I don’t know what possesses me to harass this guy, but now that I’m sure he’s actually a gentleman, I love goading him. The female tests the male to make sure he’s worthy in a form of flirtation…
Growling under his breath, he stalks to the counter, grips the bottle’s neck and takes a pull. I eye him waiting for signs of distress. Nothing. Nada. Not a cough or an eye twitch. Caleb is badass.
Meanwhile, the alcohol isn’t so much hitting my bloodstream as blazing a fiery trail through each and every limb. I pump my fist in the air and I whoop. “Truth or dare!”
Caleb sits across from me, his fist clenched on the bottle. “Oh, no. It’s your turn.”
“All right.” I lick my lips. His gaze snaps to my mouth. Dammit, I gotta stop. “Um… truth.” I don’t think I can take a dare quite yet, especially if it involves turpentine flavored moonshine.
“Where’s your man?”
“What?” My mouth moves slowly now. In fact, my whole face is a bit numb. I pat my lips until I realize what I’m doing. “What man are you talking about?”
“The man whose ass I’m gonna kick for letting you come up here alone and unescorted.”
My brow wrinkles as I try to figure out who he’s talking about. “Man whose ass you’re gonna kick… you mean my boss?”
“No, but I don’t like him either.” His growl shakes the table. Dr. Alogore is definitely on his shit list. Scary mountain man is intimidating. I definitely wouldn’t want to be on his bad side. I mean, in a non-flirty way. Oh God-am I flirting?
I never flirt!
“I mean your man. Don’t tell me a woman like you doesn’t have a man.” By the way he sweeps my body with his gaze, things suddenly become crystal clear.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I wave my hands. Damn, is it hot in here? I unbutton a couple buttons on the flannel shirt. “Um.” I refocus on Caleb. “Those are a lot of assumptions for you to be making, buddy. First of all, I do not have a man. It is not a requirement for a woman like me or anyone to be attached to someone with a penis. I am not ‘had’… by anyone. Ever.”
His eyes darken. “Are you saying you’re a virgin?”
“What?” I snort. Very unladylike snort. His shirt flops open on me and I twitch it back. “No. I def… definitely…” I speak slowly and enunciate, “have had sex. I just don’t have a boyfriend. They are a waste of time and brain cells. They want someone to stick their dicks into and make them feel good about themselves, and they don’t give anything in return. Men just take. I don’t have the energy for that. I’ve got important work to do. Trees to… sample.”
Caleb grunts. He takes another pull of the bottle. My eyes fix on the hooch. I wave a hand. “Give that here.”
He doesn’t relinquish it, but he holds it to my mouth and lets some dribble in.
“Hey!” I wipe my mouth, savoring the numbness on my tongue. “That’s not enough.”
“I think you’ve had plenty, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that.” I shudder. “Dr. Alogore calls me that. Makes me want to puke.”
“Maybe you should get your man to talk to him.” Caleb looks like he wants to stab something.
“Don’t have a man. Imma own womma.” I smack my lips, trying to get feeling in them, and try again. “My. Own. Woman. I can take care o’ myself.”
“Hmm,” Caleb says against the rim of the bottle.
“Whadda ya mean, hmmm. You said that very…” I give him side eye.NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.
“I mean, you need a man.”
“Please.” I slap the table with my hand. “I don’t need a man or anyone.”
“I mean… you should have a man. Woman like you.”
I raise a brow.
“Beautiful,” he says and the world turns pink. La vie en rose. I thought it was only a song. Arousal mimics intoxication, and vice versa. Combining the two can be dangerous…
“Thank you.”
“You need to eat more,” Caleb says accusingly. He pushes away from the table, rummages in the cabinet. Comes back with a bar of chocolate.
“O-M-Gee.” I grab it with both hands. “I love you.” The numbness has moved elsewhere, probably to terrorize my liver. Food is just what I need.