Chapter Twenty-Four
I sat at the bar, sipping a screwdriver, and grateful the three other patrons here were day drunk with mild mushy thoughts.
This bar was pretty out of the way, with almost no one in the surrounding area.
Almost peaceful to have so few minds nearby and a reminder I should consider something more country and spacious.
Then again, eyeing the woodland animals mounted along the walls, not sure this was really my scene.
Milo texted he was running late because, of course, he was. I gulped the rest of my drink and ordered another. Minutes passed as the ice began to create condensation around the glass. I went to text Milo, get an ETA, when the door swung open. Finally.
Only it wasn’t Milo brazenly bursting into the quiet bar, but Chanelle.
She immediately traipsed to the counter and ordered a shot of tequila, cranberry vodka, and a rum you needed to talk.”
“I knew it. I said it. Said it loud, said it proud, and then said it to Kyle when we called for a ride. ”
“You didn’t call Kyle—I did.”
“Huh?” I stumbled on the gravel parking lot as Milo walked me to his car. “Then who did we call?”
“No idea, but I’m sure they’ll enjoy whatever voicemails you left them.”
“Oops.”
Milo helped me into the front seat, and we drove back into the city.
It was peaceful until it wasn’t. I ground my teeth.
This was why I hated getting hammered. A few drinks helped take the edge off when thoughts rained in, but I couldn’t focus my channeling, which allowed every mind to pour in like a… like a water thing of death.
“Relax.” Milo grabbed my hand, interlocking his fingers while carefully keeping a steady flow of telekinesis on the steering wheel.
His thoughts synced to mine, creating a calming barrier from the onslaught of Chicago. I lay back in the seat of the car, allowing his gentle caress to lull me into sleep, unaware of the world outside, sinking deeper into Milo’s blissful mind before passing out.