“Same sex relationships—both male and female—are strictly prohibited. Punishment for engaging in such an unnatural pairing shall result in a demotion in station or status.”— THE ARTICLES OF BROTHERHOOD, N.A.L. 1 § 4
“City girl!” Bec’s smile is infections. “Here, drink this.”
The whiskey bottle is shoved toward me a little carelessly, forcing me to grab it with both hands so it doesn’t fall to the ground. “I’m good.”
“Come on,” she pleads, her words slightly slurred. “Just try it!”
“I—” the protest dies on my tongue as the man I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of appears at my side. Maverick leans down so he can speak in my ear. He smells like campfire and whiskey and the outdoors. It’s more intoxicating than any alcohol ever could be.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His voice is a deep rumble, the warmth from his breath sending a shiver down my spine.
“I’ve never had any hard liquor before,” I admit to him quietly.
He nods empathetically. “If you want to try it, you can. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I look up and study his handsome face, finding that I believe him. I know he’s had some alcohol tonight, but he’s clearly far from drunk. He’s more relaxed, but still alert. Stillhimself. Unlike Gabriel, who only becomes angrier and more aggressive when he drinks. I study the bottle of amber liquid, giving it a quick sniff. I recoil and scrunch my nose in distaste, which makes Maverick chuckle.
I look back at Bec and raise the bottle toward her with a grimace. “Cheers,” I say, though it sounds more like a question.
I put the glass bottle to my lips and tip my head back. The spicy liquid burns my throat, making me cough and sputter. Bec claps me on the back while laughing, handing me her water bottle. I drink deeply to soothe my throat, and a warm, fuzzy feeling settles in my belly. I hand the whiskey bottle back to Bec.
“So?” she asks expectantly.
I shake my head. “I think I’ll stick with water. Thanks.”
She takes another drink from the bottle and winks at me. “Suit yourself, beautiful.”
My cheeks heat as she gives me a sly smile, her eyes raking down my body appreciatively. I’m dressed in borrowed, baggy clothes, my hair’s a frizzy mess, and I haven’t had makeup on since that first night here. And yet, she’s looking at me like I’mdesirable.
Now, the whiskey in my belly isn’t the only thing making me feel warm. I let myself look at her, too, noticing how soft her lips look,wondering how her curves would feel under my hands, how her body would feel pressed against mine. What it would be like to kiss her.
Our eyes lock, and her smile grows, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking. My whole body is buzzing, and a deep sense of shame washes over me.I should not be thinking these thoughts.
“Excuse me,” I say quietly, hurrying away from the group. I find a quieter spot and sit down on a fallen tree, breathing heavily. I put my head in my hands and look down at the ground, until the snapping of a twig on the ground has me whipping my head back up.
Bec stands there, her expression unreadable in the dark. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I parrot, still breathing hard.
She takes a seat next to me on the downed tree. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just…” I swallow. “I think I’m confused?”
“What are you confused about?” Her tone is soft, careful.
“I’m not supposed to feel what I was feeling.”
“What were you feeling?”
I groan, shoulders hunching as I curve inward.
Bec reaches out and places her hand on my knee. “We’re friends, Della. You can talk to me.”
Her hand on my knee feels nice. I can feel the heat of her body seeping through my pants as her thumb rubs back and forth gently. “I think I was feeling attracted… to you?”
Her laugh is light, easy. “Gee, what a compliment.”
That gets a small chuckle out of me. I try again, feeling more at ease. “I was thinking about what it would be like to touch you. To… kiss you.”
