fucking restaurant with him, he was out of his mind. As long as I was driving, he’d get what I damned well felt like feeding him. And it turned out to be Arby’s.
I sat in the drive-thru while he glared at me. “I’m fucking hungry,” he snarled. “You did fast food earlier and you didn’t eat a damn thing. We need a real meal.”
The Motrin had actually helped this time. I could speak a little easier.
“You want to eat, you get it here. I’m tired and I want to go home,” I said, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.
“I need real food, damn it.”
“Then you’re going to have to figure out some other way to get it. This is the only place I’m stopping.”
“And if I decide to haul you elsewhere?”
“Try it.” I smiled. “Please, try it. The only way you’ll get me into a restaurant with you is if you drag me in there kicking and screaming.”
I cracked one eye to look over at him. “I’m pretty sure your beloved Alpha frowns on that.”
I’d heard a couple of her cats had gotten a little tanked a year ago. Shifters couldn’t get drunk–they just burned through the alcohol. But they get high. The drugs had to be made specifically for their bloodline; do it right, though and it could work. These two had gotten very, very wasted.
It wasn’t the drugs that had been the problem. They’d behaved…badly.
Shifters didn’t like it when other shifters misbehaved in public. They could go as crazy as they wanted on their own turf—it didn’t matter if they tore each other to ribbons for looking at each other wrong, but in public? Even an argument wasn’t nice. These two hadn’t argued—they’d tried to get naked and horizontal.
Somehow, I didn’t think Damon wanted to drag me into a restaurant kicking and screaming.
“Fine,” he growled.
It was a low, angry sound that filled the entire car. If I hadn’t been so pleased about finally getting the better of him, I might have been a little scared. Okay, so what if my heart slammed up into my abused throat and I could all but taste the panic crashing through my veins?
I’d won something. So what if it was a piddly little pissing contest. It was something.
“Ma’am…I need your order…” a voice said uncertainly as several people behind us started to lay on their horns.
I said, “Diet Coke.”
Then I looked pointed at Damon. He glared at me. “You need to eat.”
I groaned and banged my head against the seat’s headrest again.
Snarling filled the car and then he finally growled out an order. One that would have probably fed about four humans. I wasn’t surprised. Shifters ate a lot. Earlier at Burger King, I’d watched as he’d wolfed down three Whoppers.
Even when my throat didn’t feel like it had been battered into bits, I couldn’t eat a quarter of what he did. And I’m not one of those wilting females who didn’t like to eat. I was actually pretty damned hungry, but there was nothing here I could eat and I wasn’t going to torture myself by trying.
Ten minutes later, we were pulling out of the driveway. He tore into the food and I sipped at my drink, wincing at the sting of it. Home. Maybe a drink laced with whiskey. That would feel good. Then bed.
I’d hide out in my bedroom with my files, maybe a book in case I couldn’t concentrate—
A foil-wrapped sandwich got dumped in my lap. “You need to eat.”
I lowered my drink to the cupholder. A red light was coming up. After I’d stopped, I unwrapped the gooey mess and dropped the foil onto the console. Then, once I’d taken off, I threw the sandwich out the window.
“Hey!”
I smiled. “Not interested in eating that, thanks.”
Yes. I needed to eat, but anything I ate right now would hurt and I wasn’t about to let this son-of-a-bitch see that.
“Are you always this immature?”
I shrugged and licked some of the cheddar cheese of my fingers. “Depends on the company. When I’m around abusive, arrogant assholes, I tend to get very immature.” The pain in my throat was going to be an issue for a few days. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t deal with, I knew, but I also couldn’t keep avoiding eating for the next twenty-four or forty-eight hours, however long it took my body to deal with the swelling.
So I could either suffer and starve for the next couple of days…or I could hit up a friend.