Page 101 of Spark

“Sure, why not? She’s your dog.”

The irony was closing in on me again. If he thought I was going to react to choosing a collar for my dog like he’d chosen one for me, then he was mistaken. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort.

“How am I going to pick it out? Are you going to supply me with a bunch to choose from?”

Darren shook his head. “No, I’m going to take you into town on New Year’s Eve for you to pick one out yourself.”

I choked on my wine. He was taking me to town? In public? For fucking real??

“Are you serious?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes from bugging out of my head.

“If you can behave, yes,” he said, that dangerous look looming in his eyes, the one that promised pain if I fucked up.

“No worries,” I assured him, trying to hide my smile as I took another sip of wine.

A half-eaten slice of cherry pie sat on my plate, and I didn’t think I could eat another bite. I’d had two full glasses of white wine and was about to finish my third when I suddenly felt my vision sway. Weird, but maybe I was just excited?

I was finally going out into the world for once in the next few days. I’d see people. I’d see buildings. I’d see everything. Holy. Shit. This meant he trusted me enough to be in public with him… and I was sure there would be devastating consequences should I fuck that up. But I wouldn’t. I’d make sure I had every chance at gaining another opportunity of getting the fuck off Darren’s property.

I took another sip of my wine when I felt myself off balance again.

“What the hell?” I whispered under my breath, placing the glass down. I felt light and airy and fucking giggly.

“Something wrong?” Darren asked me.

I covered my mouth in an attempt to hide my goofy ass smile. What the fuck? Was I tipsy? Off three glasses of wine?

“No,” I said with a giggle. “I’m fine.”

“You’re drunk,” he accused, but there was nothing but amusement in his voice.

“No way. I only had three glasses of wine,” I rationalized.

“That wine is twenty percent, Jaden. Your tolerance is still for shit.”

“Shut up,” I told him with way more attitude than I’d meant to.

“What did you just say?”

Darren’s tone sent shivers down my spine, and I immediately slammed my hands over my mouth. “Oh, my God, I am drunk.”

But when I finally had the courage to look back over at Darren, the only thing that was plastered over his face was a dark, dangerous smile.

“Good,” he said.

Son of a bitch.

“Good?”

He nodded. “I had a feeling you would like that wine.”

My eyebrows shot up in confusion. “So you wanted me drunk,” I stated. It wasn’t a question.

He leaned forward, a smirk decorating the corners of his mouth. “Maybe I want another showing of Ludacris.”

“Ha!” I laughed, remembering how ridiculous I must have looked while shaking my ass on top of a pool table to “Move Bitch, Get Out the Way.” “I’m afraid the tour ended for that show quite some time ago. I doubt there will be a repeat.”

“Not drunk enough to dance for me then?” he asked with a chuckle.

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