“Are you going to sit here all night?” Talon whispered furiously.
Gage shrugged. “Maybe. Have you got any more of this stuff? Another couple of gallons, and I might actually get drunk.”
Talon sighed, frowning, but before he could answer, Draco clapped Gage on the shoulder as he sat down.
“My clan made that stuff,” Draco said. “And I’ve seen it drop hundred-year-old dragons, so watch yourself.”
“They must have been fucking sissies,” Gage muttered, tilting the glass at Talon for a refill. Talon shook his head.
“I don’t think so, man. Not unless you want to open up about why the hell you’re drinking so much. If it’s bad enough, I’ll give you the bottle.”
Gage looked up. His friend was staring at him with an open expression, ready to listen. Draco patted him on the shoulder, and Leo appeared on the other side of the bar, giving him an encouraging grin. They were his friends, and they were all there for him.
Gage looked away, gripping the glass so hard he almost broke it. He wasn’t ready to talk about this yet. He probably never would be. He knew that sooner or later, the story would come out, but until then, he wasn’t going to pour his heart out to these guys.
Especially since Draco and Talon were so lovestruck, they’d give him some really flowery, romantic advice about making it work.
No, thank you.
Draco sighed, slapping his shoulder once more before heading off to his booth. Talon went to serve customers, who were slowly filling the bar. In a brief lull, Leo hurried over and tapped the bar in front of him to get Gage’s attention.
“Yeah?” Gage said, wishing he were drunk enough to ignore him.
“You’re too out of it to work. I’m giving you the night off.”
“Works for me. What do I have to do to get the bottle Talon promised me?”
Leo smiled, shaking his head. “There was no promise, but I can’t stand to see a man suffer. Here,” he said, reaching under the bar.
It was a tall, thick bottle filled to the brim with syrupy, dark liquor. Leo made him promise to use a glass and not just chug the bottle down, then left to take a look at the club now that it was getting busy.
Gage worked his way through the bottle, enjoying the sweet buzz. His fingers began to feel numb, and his head swam. Finally, he had some relief. Even so, he could feel his shifter constitution working ten times harder to clear the poison from his system.
Damn bear shifter genes. Can’t even get decently drunk!
He wanted to pass out. He had never wanted it so much in his entire life. He could tell from how quickly he was working through the bottle that this was never going to happen. If he tried to lay down, the room would spin a little, then before he knew it, he’d be sober again.
Gage looked up into the mirror again, seeing himself in an even harsher light than before. He had no idea what he was going to do.
Suddenly, the view changed. A beautiful blonde woman appeared in the mirror. His eyes followed her as she approached. He couldn’t help but notice her large breasts as they tossed up and down with her every stride, barely held in by her tight, bright red dress.
At first, when the woman spoke to the burly guy in the mirror, Gage didn’t realize what was happening. It was only when she put a soft hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear that he realized she was speaking to him.
“You look so lonely, handsome,” she purred. “You have that big bottle all to yourself. Why don’t you let me give you some company?”
She leaned against him, her soft curves pressing against his side. Her sweet perfume had gotten into his head somehow, and he was finding it hard to think.
Maybe, this is just what I need to take my mind off Rylee.
He tried to wake up his brain…and other parts of his body…but something in him refused to wake. He was feelingsomething,and there was lust in it, but other than that, it was a dark, ugly force like nothing he had ever encountered.
He tried to imagine those big breasts under his hands, her warm body opening for him. He was excited, it was true, but it twisted in him somehow.
Maybe I’m drunker than I thought.
He tried to turn and look at her. She was still whispering to him, and he had no idea what she was saying.
Maybe, she’d let me call her Rylee.