The Good Girl's Bad Boys [Book Two of TGGBB Series] (Ongoing)

Chapter Twenty-Six: What were the Promises?

"Are you drunk?" I asked in disbelief.

"Nope," Jordan said, popping the p.

"Then what are you?"

"Not drunk," Jordan replied before snickering to himself. "Sorry, that's probably trademarked," he said in sing-song.

"It's dangerous for you to drink alone," I told him. "You need someone to look after you. Let's have you sit down and-"

"Nooo," he whined out again before hugging me tightly. "I don't wanna be alone. I don't wanna sit alone." He let out a sigh as he nuzzled against my neck. "You're warm and fluffy. Be my pillow."

"I'll take it as a compliment," I told him. "And you're not alone. I'm here. I'll sit with you. Can you sit down on the couch for me?"

There was a pause. "Ok..." He mumbled reluctantly.

Jordan let go of me and walked backward before plopping back onto the couch. I exhaled then sat down next to him.

"Drink with me," he declared, holding a bottle of beer in the air. "Drink to my honor."

"You're not dead nor have you achieved anything notable to drink to."

"Rude," he huffed.

"Smart," I corrected.

"I'm not going to drink with you, Jordan," I told him flatly. "I don't exactly have a good history with alcohol."

"Then you should replace it with a good history, memory, yeah memory," Jordan told me with a bright smile.

"How much did you drink?" I asked, looking over at the table to count how many empty bottles there were.

"Shh, shh, shh," Jordan said, his hand moving my cheek to look at him then covering my eyes with his hand. "Don't count. The only time you count is when you're doing a drinking game. Or money. Mostly money."

I removed his hand and looked at him. "Jordan, let's just sober you up."

"No, I don't wanna be sober," Jordan pleaded. "Sober Jordan is a sad Jordan. Just drink like one bottle. This one. It's like a soda. You like sweet things. Like me."

Jordan grabbed one bottle then held the top against the table before hitting it with his hand for the cap to come off. He handed me the bottle and I took it. The cover read Smirnoff Ice with a 5% alcohol content.

I hesitated then looked back at him and saw him giving me puppy dog eyes, a mistake on my part. I took a small sip and my eyes widened in surprise. It was fizzy like soda and tasted like lemonade with a stronger kick.

"Chug, chug, chug..." Jordan began.

"No, there will be no chugging," I told him, ignoring him booing me. "I'll drink one bottle and then that'll be it."

Hopefully, if I play along with him, he'll listen to me and sober up so then we can talk about why he's drinking by himself.

Or that was the plan.

"It should be illegal how sweet this is," I told him between a fit of giggles before taking another swig. "It's like juice. You can't tell it's alcohol. I already drank three bottles."

"I told you so," Jordan said in sing-song.

"It's like... adult lemonade. That's what they should call it- adult lemonade." My eyes widened and I stood up from the couch and raised the bottle over my head like I was sacrificing it to the alcohol god. Dionysus? "I should call the company, pitch the idea, then I'll be rich."