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“Corvin will kill you for having that.”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t give a shit what Corvin has to say about it.”
I expect him to open it, to drown whatever frustration he’s feeling in the alcohol like he does any time he thinks I’m not paying attention. I am. I just don’t know how to help him.
But he doesn’t. He climbs back onto the bed, crossing his legs, and holds the bottle out to me. I prop up on my elbow, but I don’t take it.
“I dare you,” he says.
“What?”
He shakes the bottle, and when I still don’t take it, he sets it down in his lap.
“I dare you to fuck a guy.”
My mouth stops working, my throat runs dry, and I think my tongue might be twisted into an actual knot.
“I—wha—You can’t be serious.”
He shrugs and motions down to the bottle. “Then drink up, Atty. Big dare you’re passing up. The whole bottle oughta do it.” The anger on his face dips slightly and gives way to a mean looking smirk. “Better yet. Take the dare, or I’ll drink it.”
“Loh!” I shoot up and snatch the bottle before he can do anything with it. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? A couple shots of this stuff would fuck you up even without your medication. You down this and you’re going to fucking kill yourself.”
He rolls his eyes. “I haven’t taken my meds today, so it’s fine.”
“Shiloh.”
“I feel fine.” He pushes off the bed and holds his hand out, but I don’t give it over. “I have more, Atty. Or I can run to our old building and get some blow, I’m sure.”
Shiloh can be wild, but he isn’t usually an outright danger to himself. Not unless he’s skipped more than a dose or two.
“You can’t do that, Loh.”
He shrugs, something heavy and dark filling his eyes. “Then take the goddamn dare.”
There isn’t a choice in the matter. If Shiloh is off his meds—and there’s a good chance it’s more than just today—then there’s no telling if he’ll do it or not. One thing’s for certain—I’m not taking that chance.
“Alright, Loh. I’ll take the dare. Just don’t do anything you can’t take back.”
His smile is smug, and the tension seems to lift from his shoulders immediately.
“Great. There’s a party next weekend.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
He rolls his eyes. “Obviously, I need to see this hookup. You could lie. It’s fine, I won’t watch. Just want to confirm. I guess you could always bring them back here? No fucking Corvin, though. He’s off limits.”
I blanch at the thought, but this whole thing is a little off putting.
“No way. I’m not having sex with you in the room.”
“Then I’ll stand outside. Confirmation, Atty.”
I shake my head. The entire idea is ridiculous, but when Shiloh gets something in his head, it’s impossible to get it out.
I stride over to Shiloh’s desk, digging around in the drawer until I find his pill organizer—which is empty—and search around more until I find the bottles. Popping them both open and dumping one of each into my hand—anti-depressant and a mood stabilizer—I hold them out to him.
When he takes them with an exaggerated sigh, I nab a water bottle from our mini fridge and open it for him. Then, I watch and make sure he swallows, showing me his hands.
