Page 29 of Tiny Fractures

Corbin nods. “That’s what I would have guessed, honestly.” He turns his back to me to retrieve some bottles.

“Yeah? How come?” I ask him, making conversation while he tinkers around mixing the drink with his back to me.

“You strike me as a girl who likes something that goes hard, but is soft at the same time,” he chuckles. He finally turns back around, swirling the drink with a stir stick for a minute before he finally sets the glass down in front of me.

Corbin raises his glass. “To non-priorities.”

I smile, then raise my own glass, clanking it against his. I chug the rum and coke, one half of me scolding myself for being so reckless, the other half telling myself to enjoy my evening. I’m safe here. My friends are outside; Adam isn’t around. I’m safe.

Corbin nods appreciatively, his eyes moving from my empty glass to my face. “You just keep on surprising me,” he laughs, taking my glass to begin mixing another drink for me.

I wave him off. “I’m good,” I say, half-hearted.

“Just one more. This time maybe just sip it,” he adds with a laugh. “No need to go so hard.”

I nod with a smile, feeling myself relax noticeably. “So, who are you here with?”

Corbin is already in the process of pouring a splash of coke into the generous amount of rum in the glass. “A couple of friends,” he tells me vaguely, once again stirring the cocktail before he pushes the glass back toward me and begins making himself one.

“What are you having?”

“Vodka Red Bull.” He nods, pouring a little—or, actually a lot—of the bubbly energy drink into the vodka in his glass.

“I always thought it was a weird idea to mix uppers and downers,” I say, and am taken aback by how heavy my tongue feels inside my mouth, my words coming out slow and slightly slurred. Weird.

“Yeah, it is kind of a weird concept,” Corbin admits with a chuckle. “But it tastes good.”

I make a face, scrunching my nose. “I don’t like vodka.” My speech is drawn out, and I suddenly have the urge to rest my head on the cool marble countertop.

“I don’t ever drink it straight, either. It’s pretty bitter.” He takes a sip from his glass. “But this is nice. Do you want to try?” Corbin offers me his glass.

I shake my head, noting the seeming lag of my vision with the movement of my head from left to right.

Wow, I know I haven’t had much alcohol lately, but I can’t remember my head ever going so foggy this quickly. This is only my second drink, but my eyelids suddenly feel heavy, almost as heavy as my arms and legs. I probably shouldn’t have downed that first rum and coke so quickly.

“Hey, you good?” Corbin asks, and I vaguely notice the smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I feel like I haven’t slept in three days straight. I have a desperate desire to go find a soft surface, lie down, and go to sleep.

“You sure? You don’t look super steady. Maybe you should lie down,” he suggests, walking around the counter and to my side.

“Yeah, I think I may need to,” I admit with a nod, which makes my surroundings spin violently.

“Here, I’ll help you.” He’s already moving my left arm over his shoulder and around his neck to help me off my barstool. I don’t particularly like the feel of this guy’s hands on me, but I can’t muster up the energy to protest.

“Cat?” I hear Ronan’s voice, which sounds echoey and distanced, like he’s talking to me through a metal tube or like he’s not real. Maybe I’m just imagining his voice, actually. But no, his face appears next to me, and I’m taken aback by the deep crease on his brow, the stern look on his handsome face. His masculine features are harder for some reason.

“Are you already done?” My question to Ronan comes out slurred, like I’ve suddenly lost control over my tongue, which feels dry and fuzzy. Ronan’s expression changes to confusion. “With that girl,” I add, unable to hide the pain in my voice.

He doesn’t respond to my question. “Are you alright?” Ronan checks with me instead. His left hand moves under my chin, tipping my head up; he studies my face, my eyes. God, he has gorgeous eyes. They look like the northern lights I saw when my family visited Alaska last summer, with hues of light green and aqua.

“She’s good. Just tired. I’m gonna help her find a place to lie down,” Corbin says, tugging at my arm to get me to stand up.

Ronan’s left hand glides up to my right shoulder, exerting enough downward pressure that my tired legs are unable to lift my body. “The fuck you are,” he growls at Corbin.

I’m totally confused about what the heck is going on when Ronan reaches for the glass I was just drinking from and moves it to his nose as if to smell it.

“What is this?” Ronan asks, looking at the nearly empty drink.

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