Artifice - Man x Man - Book Six

Chapter 39

I reach for another glass only to find he quickly takes it out of my hand, saving me from myself I suppose, holding it out of reach of my height as I stretch on my toes to grasp at it. "Don't be an ass!" I complain. 

I know I need to stop, I know I need to get a handle on my drinking but it's easier than dealing with my problems. I don't want to listen to 'Nicolas', I want to be Nic again and the drinks help me accomplish that. 

"Mmm... I think you've had enough." Verando sets the glass back on a passing tray, sighing at me as one does when their children misbehave. I stave off the pout, deciding against proving him right and taking the moment to hunt for my next victim. 

The place was crawling with waiters, surely another opportunity wasn't far off. 

Jerry's wife hides her laughter and yet her eyes bore into me as if I was a scandal waiting to happen, "Mr.Mercer, your fiance is delightful. A king. Is that a joke in Romania?"

I narrow my eyes at her and open my mouth to speak only to have him put his arm around my waist and pull me firmly to his side. The joke was these peasants and their mock party, a true Galla would never be so boring. 

I so desperately want to point it out but as his grip tightens on me, I come to reality and remind myself that I can't reveal my true identity. Maybe I should stop drinking, at least for now. My buzz was holding strong, that should be enough to keep me loose, to encourage me to have more fun.

"Oh yes. Romanians are very funny with their... humor.. and what have you. If you'll excuse us." He drags me away and I resist the urge to call back to them that it wasn't a joke. My body feels heavy as I sway against him, my grimace turning into a grin as I tilt my head up to peer at him through my lashes. 

His shoulder feels stronger and fuller, I can feel it just by tracing my hands over him. Tracing back to those moments on the front lawn when he was shirtless before me, I entertain other forms of relaxation as I toy with the button on his jacket. "When did you start drinking like this?"

Drinking? Surely he wasn't talking to me? I take in his scent, pressing impossibly close as I turn around in his arms and reach for his neck. "I'm more fun when I drink. Also, sometimes, I cannot count. Whoops! Too many." I chuckle at myself, closing my fingers behind him and catching my lower lip in my teeth. "You should come down to my level. I'll tell you a secret." I hit him with my best smolder, raising an eyebrow as I tempt him.  

Rolling his eyes at me, I come to realize I'm going to have to work much harder if I want to get anywhere. 

"I'll have none of your secrets, thank you. Nobody with an expression like that has anything good to say." 

A group passes us and he carefully slips out of my arms to avoid the prying eyes. 

"There is dinner in the other room; perhaps we can sober you up with some actual food. I'd rather not leave just yet, though, if you're going to keep blurting our secrets..." He trails off, allowing me to come to my conclusions. I wasn't yelling out secrets; I was making friends!

 Friends I didn't even honestly want! Guiding me through the crowd with a healthy gap of air between us, I'm reminded of my time in the court and sigh at the memory of being so well respected. Every turn we take, people stop us to recognize his talents, and it seems to be the same conversation on repeat. 

People are amazed by his accent, then equally so by my own dialect. They applaud our relationship, some calling it 'sexy' as if we're doing it for the publicity, which is something I couldn't even fathom, although it does strike a chord in my drunken state. We could be whatever we wanted in this time; there were no stipulations against our sexuality.