The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 81

Chapter 81

Chapter 81

I shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea.”

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The bartender chuckled. “Tell you what. I’ll make you some samples. On the house. It’s not every day we get to introduce someone to the wonderful world of cocktails.”

Over the next thirty minutes, I tried more drinks than I could count. Some burned my throat, others were sickeningly sweet, and a few made me cough and sputter.

“That was disgusting,” I gasped after trying something called a Rusty Nail.

Molly laughed, patting my back. “Yeah, that one’s not for beginners.”

But then the bartender slid a bright blue cocktail in front of me. “Try this one. Blue Hawaiian. Coconut rum, blue liqueur, and pineapple juice.”

I took a wary sip, expecting the worst, but felt my eyes widen as the cocktail slid down my throat. It was sweet but not too sweet, with a tropical flavor that made me feel like I had made it to my bucket list oceanside destination after all “Oh my Goddess. This is amazing.”

“Looks like we found a winner,” the bartender said with a wink.

Three Blue Hawaiians later, I was giggling at everything Molly said and everything outside the bar seemed to no longer exist. The space had filled up, and the karaoke had shifted from awful to hilariously awful, with everyone cheering and clapping regardless of talent.

“So,” Molly said, leaning in close, “how’s married life treating you? Really?”

The alcohol in my system lowered my inhibitions, and before I knew it, I was spilling everything-how cold Alexander had been for years, how we slept on opposite sides of the bed like strangers, how he never touched me.

“We’ve been married for five years,” I slurred, swirling my straw in my fourth drink, “and he’s never… you know. We’ve never…

Molly’s eyes widened. “Wait, are you saying you’re still a virgin?”

I nodded miserably, heat flooding my cheeks. “Pathetic, right? I’m twenty-two years old, married, and I’ve never been touched by any man Not even my own husband.”

“That’s not pathetic,” Molly said softly, She reached over and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. Her fingers were soft and warm. “That’s fucking sad. He’s your fated mate, for Goddess’ sake.”

“Yeah, well, fate has a sick sense of humor.”

“If I were your mate,” she said softly, her green eyes holding mine as her thumb stroked across my knuckles, “I would never make you feel so alone.”

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