“Of course I’m good to eat. I’ll never refuse food,” I say.
Abel and I change back into our other clothes. Perry stays in his outfit and it suits him. Abel seems more relaxed when he’s all covered again. It’s a shame he’s always covering up. But if that’s what makes him comfortable, then I won’t fuss about it.
The three of us hop in my truck and we follow the Beta Bitches to a restaurant I hadn’t seen before.
“Oh! This is Bette’s place,” Perry says as I park. “It’s a bit of a mismatch, but so yummy.” He takes Abel’s hand and drags him from the truck. I follow them, watching how sweet Perry is with Abel and how Abel seems to always take the world in, as if he’s cataloging everything to save forever.
Abel looks back and stops. Perry does the same. Then they’re both running my way to each take a hand. The sizzle of their touches runs up my arms. This is life. This is how everything should be.
When we catch up to the Beta Bitches, Bette turns to us. “You look at each other the way me and my Freddie do.” She presses a hand to her chest. The other Betas nod and murmur the same about their partners. “The spark still hasn’t left and I hope it never does. We’ve been together for thirty-seven years.”
The host seats us in apparently the best spot, thanks to Bette. She orders us a couple of liters of frozen margaritas for the table.
“I’ve never had alcohol before,” Abel whispers.
“Do you want to try a margarita?” Perry asks.
“Oh, I should have asked if everyone partook,” Bette says.
“I’m over twenty-one. It’s just not something I’ve been too interested in. But I think I do want to try one.” He pours himself a serving of peach.
We all watch him as he sniffs the alcohol, then gives the slushy a tentative lick. He hums and uses his spoon to have a bigger taste. “I like it.”
We all let out a breath. Not that I was worried, and it would have been fine had he not liked it.
I ask the server for a round of water for everyone.
Dinner is pleasant, and I don’t monitor Abel’s margarita consumption. He’s an adult and can decide if he wants to chance a hangover. But when he starts slurring his words, me and Perry exchange looks.
“It’s like...like...candy in liquid form,” Abel says as he takes another drink. “But burny candy. I don’t like that part.” He frowns at his empty glass. His eyes go wide and his head snaps up. “No. My head feels all fuzzy, like there’s a wooly mammoth playing around.” He presses his hands to his head. “Why is everyone so loud?”
Shit.
“I can’t feel my hawk. Where did he go?” He springs to his feet and I grab his hand before he can sprint away.
“Abel,” Perry tries to soothe him. “How much did you drink?”
“Dunno,” Abel slurs.
“He’s a lightweight,” Elsbeth says. “He only filled his glass up three times. These are tiny glasses.”
“I wanted to try all the different flavors.” Abel shoves a bite of food in his mouth and moans. “So good.”
“John does have a heavy hand,” Bette says. “I feel kinda bad.”
“Oh, no!” Abel gasps. “What’s wrong? Is it your stomach?”
Bette fights a laugh. “No, darling. I feel bad you’re probably not gonna feel great in the morning.”
“Oh. Well, that’s not good.” Abel drops his elbows to the table and puts his face in his hands. He makes a little hurump noise and I fight the urge to pull him close.
“Sometimes pheromones from your partner counteracts the hangover,” Carol says.
“Okay.” He holds out his hands. “Scent me.”
The Beta Bitches stifle their giggles behind their hands or glasses.
Perry rubs his head along Abel’s wrist, then kisses his palm. I want to bring his face to my throat, but refrain and rub my thumb along his wrist.
