Page 33 of The Sweetmate
“What did he have to say? That guy is a sleaze, so be honest.”
“I think he wants me to be his kitten.”
Casey’s jaw drops. “What?”
“I could be a house cat. Sleep. Wake up to be fed. If I get annoyed, I could just walk by and knock stuff over.”
“Nope. You do not qualify as a cat.”
“I could be a cat.”
“Cats give zero fucks. You’re not a cat.”
“Don’t make me unleash my claws.” I make a motion of my curled fingers as claws and playfully hiss. “Rawr.”
Casey brings his cheek next to mine, and in a husky voice, says, “Oh, I’d love to have your claws sink into me. Preferably my back.”
“Stop it or I’ll go tell Daddy on you.” I nod toward the man I’d been dancing with earlier.
“Nope. Don’t even.” Casey downs his drink and places both of our glasses onto a table. “Come on.”
Casey leads me to the center of the room and presses our bodies together. I place my palms on his shoulders and he laughs. “You were more relaxed with your sugar daddy.”
“I’m nervous,” I admit.
“Don’t be. I’ve got you.”
After a few more dances, Casey and I go to the bar. Again, he whispers and giggles with the bartender.I’m right here!For a guy who gets jealous, he doesn’t consider that I might also feel a little protective. She hands us our drinks and I eye his.
“What are you drinking?”
A flicker of panic crosses his face for the briefest second. Then he calmly says, “Beer.”
“Can I try some?”
“What? No. I’ll order you one.”
Suspicion trickles through me. I’m not sure why, but there’s something up with his drink. Is he having the bartender slip drugs in it? “No. I just want a sip.”
“You’re not going to let this go. You’re so stubborn. Come on.” We squeeze and weave past all the people to a dark corner. His expression is serious, with a hint of guilt in his eyes. “Please promise me you’ll keep this between us.”
I’m scared now. What if this secret changes everything between us? No. We’ve developed a deep connection. If he’s putting drugs in his alcohol, I’ll stand by his side and get him help. It’s not uncommon for the new publicity to get to people. It’s happened before. They need something to take the edge off but it quickly becomes an addiction. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you, Casey.”
He hands me the glass. “Try it.”
“Absolutely not. Whatever you’re messing with, I want no part of it. I said I’d help you, not join you in your addiction.”
“The only thing I’ve become addicted to is you. Try it.”
I bring the glass to my nose and sniff. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“What? Oh shit!” He takes the drink back. “Sorry. I didn’t think about liquids affecting you.”
“Also, why are you drinking apple juice?”
“It looks like beer.” When I continue to stare he explains. “I don’t drink. At these events, everyone is always offering a drink or wanting you to drink. It’s a whole thing. So, I started getting apple juice. Nobody suspects anything.”
And why would they? That explains why he whispers to the bartender. From what I’ve learned about Casey, when he’s nervous or embarrassed, his go-to is humor. He wasn’t flirting with the bartender. He was just trying to order some apple juice.
