Finally, I force the words out.
"Acting impulsively isn’t my modus operandi, Salt. Just give me some time. I’ll work something out. I want to think it through, talk to the right people, and find the smartest way to handle this."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Salt mutters. "Think it through, Eliano. But I work differently. When I jump into something, I go in with both feet. That gives me a strong momentum to push through obstacles. There are no half measures for me."
I sigh. "Salt, I’m not saying I don’t want to do anything, or that this is just empty talk. This whole situation is messed up, and we have to be careful so it doesn’t end with us getting separated for good. I’ll think it through."
"You do you," Salt mumbles.
Then he stands up and walks over to the bar where they’re serving alcohol. He lingers there for a moment, choosing something, then comes back to the table and sets two beers in front of me, and the same in front of himself.
"I don’t usually drink," I say cautiously, although today I’m genuinely in the mood, and I find myself looking at the mugs a little more favorably.
"Come on, let me talk you into it. Might make both of us feel a little better. Cheers," Salt says, taking a halfhearted sip.
"Okay," I lift the mug to my mouth, but I’m immediately hit by how awful it smells.
Vodka.
"You spiked this with vodka, Salt? I’m an alpha. You do remember I have a good sense of smell?"
Salt rolls his eyes. "You’re so picky. It’s just a beer with a higher alcohol content."
"Don’t lie. It’s vodka. I don’t want to get wasted, Salt."
"Goddamn, you’re such a stiff! It’s annoying! Mafia guys should be more fun."
"I’m not mafia," I say coldly.
"Sure, whatever you say. But seriously, on a day like this, you could really loosen up."
I press my lips together.
Maybe it’s not worth fighting over?
So I start drinking, even though it makes my stomach twist. I’m absolutely certain Salt added a lot of vodka and maybe even some bitter brand like Polish Zoladkowa Gorzka. But since I see that he’s drinking too, I assume maybe he just wants us both drunk so we can somehow get through the rest of the day. Maybe he thinks it’ll make it easier for us to get close again? His heat is slowly ending, by the smell of it, but it’s still on.
By the time I finish the first mug, I realize I’m getting drunk fast. Way too fast. Then, for the first time, it crosses my mind that maybe Salt wants me drunk for some additional reasons.
But since he’s drinking as well, I convince myself that if he were planning to run today, he wouldn’t be downing this much alcohol.
When I finish the second mug, I’m seriously drunk, and the stench of the spiked beer makes me want to puke. It tastes disgusting, and swallowing it is pure torture.
"How much vodka did you pour into this damn beer, half a bottle?"
"Something like that. Maybe more," Salt mumbles.
"The hell? Seriously? Are you out of your mind? I’m going back. I need to sleep this shit off."
I stand up, completely wrecked, my head buzzing, nausea rolling through me.
Salt stands too, but to my surprise he doesn’t seem nearly as drunk as I am. I grab his mug and bring it to my nose. I smell only beer.
"You didn’t spike yours?" I blurt out drunkenly.
"I get drunk on much smaller amounts," Salt says quickly, looking away.
Cursing under my breath, I head back toward our unit, with Salt following behind me.
