Page 125 of On Merit Alone
Looking over her shoulder at me, she surveyed my face for along sobering second before her alcoholic brain took the reins again and she depressed into the steadiness of my body.
Pointing lazily in a not so clear direction, she said, “Okay, she's right over there.”
As soon as we made it to the tall Australian beauty, Merit detached herself from me and latched onto her like a little leech. I hated to say it, but I was jealous of the way she wrapped her arms around her, her head sneaking onto the woman’s shoulder in a way that seemed to fit.
“A bit handsy when she drinks, huh?” So called Emily said.
I raised an eyebrow, trying not to glower. I wouldn’t know, because she hadn’t actually touched me. She was too busy letting everyone else touch her. “You sent me that text, didn’t you?”
“Tall and smart, I’m impressed, King.” She nodded slowly.
I scratched my neck. “Thanks for looking out for her. I, um, didn’t know she had such good friends. I’m grateful.”
Emily's face softened a little and she reached a hand out toward me. I took it and we shook, like we were shaking on some kind of deal. “I don’t think she knows it either. But we’re all here for her. We always have been, and I think you are helping her see it finally. So I’m grateful too. And I’m Emily by the way.”
“I told him who you are, Em,” Merit grumbled in a teenaged“duh”sort of way.
We both exchanged a look over Mer’s head and I reached forward to grab my girl. “C’mon, Six. Time to hydrate.”
“One more sip,” I said.
“No,” she answered simply.
“Six,” I warned.
“Ira,” she warned back.
“You are a pill when you’re drunk, huh?”
“I’m drunk?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re three sheets to the wind, sweetheart.”
She just hummed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall. She was sitting on a large unused sound box as we hovered deep in a hallway on the side of the bar. On one end there was the back of the building, peppered by random doors leading up to the back exit. On the other side there was the bustling bar.
As she sat there, her breathing slow and almost sleepy, her limbs loose and clearly inebriated, my gut twisted. She was sitting with me now, allowing me to feed her water and stand close to her, but was she really okay with me? I remembered her face when we talked in her apartment. The hurt that shone there, and the disappointment. I’d seen her upset before, but it was a whole different sort of pain to see that I was the one who put it there.
And the fact that she seemed okay with me now didn’t change the fact that I felt bad.
Surveying her, I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Merit?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry, baby,” I said, earnestly.
“It’s okay,” she sighed. “I’m over it now.”
I don’t know why, but that bothered me. I made her look at me. “I don’t want you to get over it, Mer. I want you to forgive me and for us to grow past it together.”
“What does that look like?” she asked, and for a second I could only blink at her.
Leave it to Merit to switch between versions of herself that were both totally opposite and totally normal while inebriated. One minute she was this loopy happy Merit that I’ve never seen before, and the next she was just as levelheaded and contemplative as usual.
Swallowing, I tried to answer her. “It looks like whatever you want. Whatever you need, Mer.”
She eyed me, and then she sat up straighter, her hands graduallycoming to my sides as if she wanted to grab my attention but her arms could only lift so far. “That’s exactly the problem, Ira. There’s more than just me here. This needs to be about what you need too.”
I leaned down, entering her space and narrowing my eyes. “I thought you were drunk.”
