Page 17 of Desire Him

CHAPTER SEVEN

With a glass in hand, filled to the brim with her favorite alcoholic drink, Val gingerly sits down on her alpha’s couch. She doesn’t care that she’s making herself at home. Not even when she picks up the remote and flicks on the TV. She scrolls for a moment, checking to see what’s on before she settles in with a steamy romance on a channel she usually reserves when she’s at her lowest point. Right now, it’s warranted. She’s definitely hit an all-time low.

She watches it for some time, playing a game with herself. The movie revolves around several couples, swapping back in forth and going through their dramatic lives as they fall head over heels for each other. And every time they kiss, she drinks . . . which turns out to be a lot.

Soon, she’s tipsy and giggling with each drink she has to take. Twice now, she’s had to get up to refill her drink, and on her way back with the third, she takes the bottles with her and sets them on the coffee table in front of her. That way, she doesn’t have to get up again. All she has to do is lean forward and pour to her heart’s content.

Not only is it a game to keep her entertained, but it’s also distracting. Being drunk numbs the pain, and the game itself leaves little room to think about other things. It’s perfect for her, and before she knows it, she’s pouring herself a fourth.

She should slow down. She should care that she’s drinking her Alphas out of their house and home. But she doesn’t.

She could go home and drink there, but the thought causes her to pause with a sense of loneliness. She doesn’t want to be alone. Here, she can hear people talking even if they’re upstairs. Besides, she feels safe here. Loved. Wanted. At home, she has nothing and nobody.

The movie is about halfway through. She doesn’t know how long she’s been drinking. An hour? Probably. She’s definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol though. Her cheeks are warm, and her vision is fuzzy. It’s exactly what she wanted, but thoughts slowly start to creep in when the couples start to get serious in their relationships.

She told Wayne the truth, and thankfully, he went away. He left her alone. That’s all she wants right now. To be left alone . . .

Maybe.

Okay, so it might not be so bad if someone were here sitting next to her. Someone she could kiss just like the couples on the show. Someone she could cuddle with and plan the future with. An ache settles in her chest, and she rubs at it. A few drops of her drink slosh out and soak into her jeans. She curses and licks up the drops that happened to land on the back of her hand.

Her mind goes to other things she and Wayne could be doing. He could be kissing her. Sucking on her neck. Flicking his tongue across her nipple. And there are other places he could use his tongue and -

She slams down the thoughts when her panties start to get soaked. She snaps out of the fantasy, and, going against her own game’s rules, she takes a good long swig. She probably missed someone kissing during her fantasy about Wayne anyway.

She swishes the drink around in her mouth and swallows it in one gulp, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Then, she raises her middle finger to the TV.

He had looked so shocked at her confession. She could tell he didn’t know what to say, and that made matters worse. And yet, she still has deep feelings for him, which makes her feel so stupid. What girl pines after a guy who clearly doesn’t find her attractive? Is it her weight? She’s not skinny, by any means, not like some of the other girls in the pack. Maybe he sees her as an unpaid employee. The help. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t make her feel any better.

A door upstairs opens, and Val straightens as best she can in her seat. The sound of footfalls on the stairs quickly follows, and she debates about changing the channel due to a couple fucking on the screen. They aren’t showing their most private ‘bits,’ but they’re most certainly grinding into each other.

Val cocks her head to the side, remote mid-raised. How awkward would that be to be an actor and actress mimicking sex in front of dozens of people?

Fuck it. She’s keeping the movie on. Screw what they say about her soft porn movie.

She looks behind her when someone coughs. Eme has her head tipped to her left as she scrutinizes the movie, and Wayne frowns while he slides his coat on. Good. He’s leaving. That makes her feel better. Sort of. Okay, so it doesn’t.

He shifts his gaze to meet hers, and they hold each other’s stare for a moment before Eme asks, “What are you watching?”

“I don’t remember the name,” Val says. Did she slur? By Eme’s grin, she probably had. Either way, she keeps her eyes on Wayne’s. He’s going to look away first if it’s the last thing she does in her pathetic little life. His frown is still on his face, and she wonders at that. Did the meeting not go well? Perhaps she soured his mood for the night. Maybe she made things awkward between them? It could be anything, really. She’s not a mind reader, and hell if she’s going to ask him.

She giggles at that thought. If she were a mind reader, she could have avoided this whole mess.

Eme approaches her, looking at the drink in Val’s hand. “Is that our rum?”

Val sighs and breaks the eye contact with Wayne. With a serious face, she answers, “I stole it.”

Eme grins at her with her hands on her hips. “I see that. Are you drunk?”

As if on cue, she hiccups. “What’s it to you?”

Her grin only broadens. “Stay right there,” she says as she heads to the kitchen and comes back with a cup.

“Like I plan to go anywhere,” Val counters.

Eme rounds the couch and takes a seat next to Val. She picks up the bottles of liquor and mixer and then starts pouring herself a drink. It’s different than Val’s, but she’s a girl of intelligence. She can mix her own concoction.

“Thief,” Eme mutters as she leans back into the couch, her drink in hand.