But I’m not going to drink it away.
I don’t need that.
I need to stop drowning my feelings.
I reach for the first distraction I can find. “I’ve been thinking about a date.”
His eyes fix on mine.
“For my last day. Officially.”
“Already?”
“Yeah.” I take another long sip. Swallow hard. The water is freezing against my lips, tongue, throat. It cools me down. Brings me back to reality. “The end of September. I know that’s almost two months away, but—”
“That’s so fucking soon.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m gonna miss you.”
“You are?”
“Of course.” He rest his palm on my cheek. Runs his thumb over my temple. “Seeing you is the best part of my day.”
“More than doing tattoos?”
“Yeah.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “But that’s your favorite thing in the world.”
He shakes his head. “Making you come is my favorite thing in the world.”
“That’s cheesy.”
“I don’t care. It’s true.” He holds up the mini bottle of vodka and unscrews the cap. Booze spills over melting ice. “To you soaring.” He raises his glass.
Does this count as drowning my feelings? I don’t know. It’s a celebration. And it’s only half a shot. “If this is a toast, both of us should have a drink.”
“Fair.” He motions to my cup. Give it to me.
I take my last sip of water and hand it over.
He pours half the drink into my cup and hands it back.
His eyes fix on mine as he raises his glass. “To you.”
I bite my lip. “I can’t toast to me.”
“Too bad.” He taps his glass against mine then brings the cup to his lips.
I take a long sip. It’s good vodka. Crisp. Clear. Smooth. I swallow it in three gulps.
Ryan follows suit. “You’ve gotta be careful getting me drunk.”
“Oh?”
“I might do something stupid.”