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It wasn’t my usual go-to aesthetic, but Fable made “walking god” look appealing to me for some odd reason. The smattering of dark hair leading into his pants also got my heart thumping a little too enthusiastically.
Muscles danced all along his chest as the angel acted as if he was free-throwing his clothes into the laundry bin like it was the 3-point line at a basketball game. I could almost hear the Karen squeal of horror from Ty and him yelling you can’t free-throw from the 3-point line.
Everything I unwittingly learned about basketball was forced on me by him. Ty was obsessed with it, and I’d stray over just to fuck with the wound-up sports bro, learning far too many unnecessary facts about how the game worked. No matter how often I said I didn’t care, Ty insisted he “tell it the way it is.” It didn’t seem to sink in that I was only fucking with him by saying it all wrong.
My favorite time was when I asked what inning of the game they were in. The pure horror on his face when I followed that question with “Did anyone get a touchdown?” was just…chef’s kiss. Ty short-circuited, turned the most impressive shade of red a big man like him could, and ranted for nearly two hours about the proper terminology of the game.
Everyone else was entertained but Ty that night.
It still put a smile on my face thinking about it. Good times. But then the unfortunate reality that I’d been the one to get his ass killed crept back into my throat and ruined a good trolling memory.
Fable walked over to the kitchen, still within view thanks to the open concept space of his home. I took a small look down the hallway, wondering if there was more than one room before he called out to me. “I know we just ate, but how about a drink?” the angel offered, holding up a bottle of Captain Morgan.
Not one to turn down an offer to drown my miseries in alcohol, I wandered over and finally set my bat down. It wasn’t far, so I could easily grab it if this giant bro got squirrely.
“What’s cleansing?” I asked while the angel poured the two of us a shot.
Fable turned towards me, his expression darkening in a way that put me on guard. “How about we drink first?”
Eyebrow raised in mocking, I threw the liquid back, swallowing like the pro I was, and slammed the shot glass on the granite countertop. Then I poured another three to the ongoing surprise of the brute in front of me, downing all of them in succession. “Go on, princess. Drink your shot, and then you can tell me what all these evasive tactics are about. I’m not impressed, and I won’t be placated like every damn woman you bat your pretty eyes at.”
Fable’s mouth hung open for a second, gold irises practically sparkling, before he tossed back a couple shots and wiped his mouth. “Okay. For real though, marry me.”
Pouring myself another shot, my lips lifted unintentionally before I threw the hard liquor back and relished the spicy burn all the way down my throat. “Show me your wings and I’ll think about it,” I taunted, feeling a little flirty after a double shot at dinner and four shots here.
But mostly, I was a little too eager to see what angel wings looked like. Would they be like they were in the movies? Bird like? Colored? White? Leathery like a dragon? Something else entirely?
Fuck. I might be a little drunk.
Unfortunately, the human part of me still got drunk. I thought my metabolism being what it was as a half demon would mean I could splurge on alcohol without all the drunk-tipsy effects, but nope. I got white-girl sloshed like the rest of them.
But I wanted to drown the never-ending pain from loss and the intense way Nova stared at me tonight. It was still stuck in my head on replay, and I couldn’t figure out why. What about his despondent expression hit me so hard? Why did some beautiful waitress hitting on him get to me? What the fuck was going on with me lately? I conveniently blamed one too many life-upending events in a row.
Distraction was necessary. Alcohol even more so. Alcohol and distraction…my eyes naturally did a little path down the angel’s naked torso. Yes, distraction might be exactly what the doctor ordered.
“Fuck it,” I mumbled and took the bottle right from Fable’s hand, then took a big swig, giving the angel every reason to gawk openly at me.
When the glass bottle rattled over granite, Fable was beside me and his amber eyes didn’t hide his growing lust as they raked down my body. “Something tells me you want to take your mind off things for a bit tonight,” he murmured seductively next to my ear.
I cut a glare over to him, then took another mouthful of rum. “Oh, what gave it away, big guy?”
Moistening his lips and failing to hide his grin, he shrugged and the muscles of his pecs flexed. “Just get a feeling. We can leave all the overthrowing Lucifer business for tomorrow. How about I show you where the bedroom is?”
Normally, guys like him got a knee for getting fresh with me, but my eyes took in his body with an overt sweep. I licked the taste of alcohol from my lips and stared at him. “Isn’t that a sin for you angel types?”
His chest-deep laugh hit my ears—and between my legs in a terribly sexy way, if I was honest. “Far from it, darling.”
With the fuzzy feeling in my head increasing, I lifted a finger and tutted the man with it, words slurring slightly. “Ah-ah. Call me darling again, asshole, and all you’ll be fucking is my bat.”
His eyes widened before his head shot back and a loud cackle erupted from his mouth. “Fuck. I can’t get enough of you already,” he said through a series of coughing laughs. Then the golden beam of his eyes landed on me again. “Come on, Lady. Let me show you whatisa sin when it comes to being with me…”
24
Drunk Lady
“YOUR SUPER ANGEL SEDUCTION POWERS won’t work on me, asshole,” I proclaimed confidently, sneering at him.
Fable’s kissable lips twitched, alluding to a smile, and I clicked my tongue angrily. “I haven’t used any sort of seduction power on you. I’m not an incubus, Lady.”
