I take a step back from him, but even that doesn’t dislodge the grip on my wrist. I toss my hair like he’s annoying me instead of scaring me. I know he’s strong, but it’s as if my wrist has been caught in a vice, not someone’s fingers. “It’s been a shitty day, okay?”
Jude watches me as if internalizing my words, and then slowly releases my hand. My skin throbs where his fingers were until I wrap my other hand around it.
“Shitty days are all we get around here these days. Better get used to it.”
“Jude, stop,” I call out.
I’ve never really felt the need to drink while other people were around. Maybe because I was always trying to be inconspicuous about it. The first time I tried alcohol was when one of Mom’s boyfriends bought her a bottle of cream liqueur. She said it wasn’t herstyleand packed it away in one of the kitchen cabinets.
I thought about that bottle for almost two weeks before I snuck it out and took a sip. It tasted so good, I took a few more swallows and then hid it away again.
Mom never noticed.
Not even when I was swaying and laughing and talking to myself. That buzz was incredible. I’d never felt so pretty and special andlovedbefore. It didn’t even matter that Mom was with a new boyfriend already, and barely remembered to makeme a sandwich before she left to go out with him. That bottle of liqueur was all the love I needed.
That’s how it’s always been…until now.
But right now I’d rather have a drink with Jude than get pissed on my own.
He pauses, glances at me over his shoulder.
“You want to have a drink, with me?” That tiny pause tells a whole damn story.
“Sure. Why not?”
I turn to pour him a glass of wine, but he takes the glass away.
“Not that shit.”
I roll my eyes and let out a lingering sigh. Then I tip my glass against my lips, intent on downing the whole thing. Jude takes it from me before a drop touches my mouth. It goes down the sink.
“Are you fucking serious right now?”
“As sin,” he says woodenly as he hunts through the liquor cabinet. “If you’re going to drink, do it properly.”
I press my eyelids closed, my eyeballs rolling against my fingertips. “Do you control freaks get holidays off, at least?”
When he faces me again, there’s the faintest suggestion of a smile on his mouth. Then again, it could just be the light in the room. I glance away, scanning the pool area. It’s gloomy out there like a cloud has moved over the sun. Something cool bumps against the back of my hand. I peer down at a tumbler with an inch of amber liquid inside.
I put the glass down in a rush as soon as its scent hits. “Brandy?”
“Cognac to be exact.”
After the bottle of cream liqueur was finished, I would steal any other booze Mom left lying around for too long. Alcohol might have been her first love, but she quickly moved onto harder shit. And while she was incapacitated—which soon became more often than not—I’d clean the house as an excuse tocollect any booze her boyfriends had happened to leave behind. I never really liked beer. It was too bitter, and it made me burp. But Mom started dating guys with money, and theylovedwine. Soon, I loved it too. I liked the taste of red, but I had to drink white during the day so my tongue wouldn’t turn purple.
Ever since I’d decided to raid the pool house bar, I’d been yearning for that first sip of merlot. The sting on my tongue, then the tastes that come out when you swill it around in your mouth for a second before swallowing.
This brandy smells harsh and bitter.
“One sip,” Jude says, lifting his glass and putting it to his lips as if I need a damn tutorial on how to imbibe alcoholic beverages. Every cell in my body is telling me to stop, but I don’t want Jude to think I’m…
What? Afraid?
Gotta try everything once.
Who told me that? Probably one of Mom’s boyfriends? Maybe even Mom.
I shake away the thought and bring my glass to my lips, watching Jude over the brim. His gaze shifts, eyes locked to my mouth as I take a sip. I should have felt uncomfortable with how long his gaze lingered on my lips, but instead, I just wanted to make sure he saw that I’d actually had a drink.