Chapter Nine Lightweight #2
Hadley eyes it. I can practically see the gears whirling in her head. Part of me hopes she’ll try it. A small act of rebellion in a lifetime of obedience. Still, I don’t want her to feel pressured, even though I know the girls wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do.
At length, she reaches out and takes it. I shift on my feet, my body tensing.
She brings the bottle to her lips, takes a cautious sip…and immediately wrinkles her nose in disgust. It’s so funny and cute, I can’t stop the chuckle that slips out of me. The girls all laugh too, catching Carson’s attention.
Carson looks at me in surprise. “What?”
I clear my throat. “Nothing.”
Hadley lowers the bottle and sticks out her tongue with a ‘blegh.’
“That is awful,” she declares.
The girls all burst out laughing once again.
“It’s an acquired taste,” Grace tells her.
Hadley looks down at it again, skeptical. “I feel like people lie about that.”
“Try again,” Skyler urges. “If you want to. The second sip will be better.”
There’s a moment where Hadley grimaces at the bottle, but then she squares her shoulders and takes another sip.
This time, she doesn’t recoil as dramatically.
“Okay,” she nods. “Maybe it’s… less awful the second time.”
Grace grins. “You sure? You don’t have to drink anymore.”
Hadley huffs out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I want to. It’s like a rite of passage.”
I watch the way she takes another sip after that. She’s less hesitant, but still flinches when the beer hits her tongue.
By the time she finishes the beer, her laugh comes easier, and she becomes a lot chattier, her hands moving a little as she speaks instead of staying tucked close to her body.
She’s a lot more of a lightweight than I anticipated.
“She’s gonna feel that tomorrow,” Jensen mutters, following my line of sight.
“She’s having fun,” I murmur.
Seeing the road she’s heading down, I don’t reach for another drink. I want to be able to take care of her so she can just enjoy herself tonight.
Hadley finishes a second beer, and when the girls order another round, she reaches for a third. I push off the wall.
“Your turn,” Carson says, holding out a dart.
“Be right back,” I grunt.
He arches a brow. “Where you going?”
I jerk my chin toward the bar. “Getting some water.”
I make my way to the bar and get two glasses, and by the time I turn back, the girls’ table is louder than before.
Hadley’s in the middle of a story now, something about school, her words coming quicker, her smile easier.
She gestures with the bottle in her hand, nearly knocking it into Skyler, who laughs and steadies it for her.
She looks happy and more relaxed than I’ve seen her all night. I can’t help but smile as I watch her. Her deep chocolate eyes are sparkling under the dim bar lights, and her face is a little more flushed now, the bright pink color warming her cheeks as she laughs at something Sutton says.
The girls have a small army of cocktail glasses accumulated at the center of the table. The drinks vary wildly tonight. Grace and Skyler are working their way through a pitcher of margaritas, while Rylee is sticking strictly to seltzer with lime.
Across the booth, Stacey is nursing a single glass of white wine, savoring it with a look of pure relief. According to Owen, she’s finally done breastfeeding her son, Henry, which means tonight is her first real night out on the town without having to watch the clock or count her pump sessions.
I can’t help but smile as I watch Hadley fit in so seamlessly with them, her small shoulders losing all the tension she’d been carrying since she walked through the door.
Moving to the table, I set a glass of water in front of her. “Drink this.”
She looks up at me, and her grin is wide and bright. “Thanks, Julian!”
She sips the water. The other girls all look up at me, stunned. I can’t blame them. No one calls me by my first name. Their stares are unnerving, and my cheeks heat as I turn and make my way back to the guys.
I keep a close eye on her as she continues on her third beer.
A few minutes later, Zander and Rylee take off for home to their baby.
Owen and Stacey head out shortly after, since they have two little ones as well.
Skyler and Sutton are both on their way to drunk, and Grace is clearly tipsy.
Hadley isn’t holding her alcohol nearly as well as the rest of them.
She finishes her beer, and it takes a few moments, but her face scrunches up in discomfort as her hand moves to her stomach.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, moving straight for her.
Grace notices a second after me, her smile fading as she leans closer to Hadley. “Hey, you okay? Maybe a triple IPA wasn’t the best thing to start with.”
Hadley nods, but she’s turning pale. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just…”
She swallows hard. Nope, not fine. Not fine at all. I reach the table just as she tries to push her chair back.
“Easy,” I say, stepping in beside her.
Her head tilts toward me, eyes a little unfocused. “I’m okay.”
“Yeah,” I assure her. “I know.”
Not wanting to embarrass her, I don’t make a big deal out of it. I grip her arm, steadying her when she wobbles.
She definitely didn’t expect it to hit her this fast.
“Let’s get some air,” I suggest.
Grace nods, her brow furrowed with concern. “That’s a good idea. I’ll come with.”
I shake my head. “No, don’t worry. You just relax. I’ve got her.”
Grace hesitates, but then replies, “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
Hadley opens her mouth like she’s going to argue, then thinks better of it when she sways again.
“Okay,” she mumbles.
I guide her toward the hallway leading to the bathrooms, away from the main crowd, giving her a second to breathe. She leans into my side, using my body to steady herself.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. “I thought I was fine.”
“You’re okay,” I tell her. “Just went a little too hard for your first time. Happens to the best of us.”
I steer her toward the exit, ignoring the looks from the guys as we pass.
“She good?” Jensen calls.
“Yeah,” I shoot back. “Just taking her home.”
He nods in acknowledgment. The girls wave at us as we leave.
Outside, the cool air hits her, and she exhales like she’s been holding her breath.
The overwhelming, humid atmosphere of the packed sports bar instantly evaporates.
In its place is the clean, sharp scent of the pine trees lining the edge of the asphalt lot, mixed with the distinct, metallic smell of impending mountain snow drifting down from the peaks.
The temperature has plummeted into the low forties, and she shivers next to me in her cream sweater.
“Okay,” she whimpers. “That helps.”
“Sit,” I tell her, guiding her to the curb for a second.
She does, dropping down carefully, elbows on her knees.
“I don’t think I like beer,” she mutters after a beat.
I huff a quiet laugh. “Noted.”
She glances up at me, squinting. “Did you drink?”
I shrug. “Not really.”
“Why?”
I grin. “Someone had to stay responsible.”
Her lips curve. “How noble of you.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I tease with a wink.
She laughs, then winces and groans as she drops her head to her knees.
“Come on.” I reach down and take her hand, helping her to her feet. “Let’s get you home.”
I keep a steady hand as I wave down an approaching cab. When it pulls up, I help her into the back seat, then I slip in next to her.
“Hads, what’s your address?” I ask.
It takes her a moment, but she manages to mumble it out. I give it to the driver. As we pull into traffic, she leans her head back against the seat, eyes closed, breathing slow and even at first. The streetlights flicker across her face as we pass under them, catching the loose strands of her hair.
For a minute, I think she’s dozing.
“You’re hiding dimples, aren’t you?”
I glance over at her, her sudden statement catching me off guard. “What?”
Her eyes stay closed, but there’s a faint smile on her lips. “Under all that scruff. I bet they’re there.”
I shake my head, a quiet laugh slipping out. “You’re drunk.”
“M’not,” she mumbles. “Observant.”