“Fine!” I plucked the drink from him and threw my head back and downed a huge gulp. The cold liquid slipped down my throat. unexperienced with alcohol, I began choking as if I’d swallowed fire. “Geez,” I croaked. “How do you drink this nasty stuff?”
“Feeling better?”
I scoffed. “Are you asking if I’m drunk?”
“Keep sipping, Love.” He tipped the can to my lips. “You drink all your juice like a good little girl.” He didn"t bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
“I don’t understand why you"re force-feeding me this crap?”
“You had a panic attack.”
“Panic attack,” I repeated. Why didn’t I remember?
Impatience crept into his voice. “Drink,” he ordered.
I shot him a sharp glare as I unwillingly complied, tipping the can to my lips.
A tense silence enveloped the car as tall-dark-and-dict
