Mated to the Alpha and His Beta (Lanie Stanton) novel Chapter 482

Chapter 482
Stella

“I only brought one mug,” Selena said.

I shook my head. “That’s okay. I don’t really like coffee.”

“Huh.” She moved past me to one of the comfy armchairs. She put the carafe on the small table between them and plopped herself in the chair, her legs sprawling. The mug dangled limply from her hand. She didn’t pour anything into it.

“I mean, it’s okay. I just don’t…I mean, I don’t need a mug, that’s all. I can get one if I want to,” I hastily amended myself. Drinking coffee was an adult thing to do, right? Only littles didn’t drink coffee.

“You’re talking way too fucking loud,” Selena said.

“Sorry.” I coughed into my hand. After a second, I locked the library door, but I wasn’t sure if I should sit in the chair next to hers.

Or leave. I could leave. Maybe I should. She clearly didn’t want anyone around her.

“What are you doing in here?” She sat up straight enough to pour her mug full of coffee, then slouched back to sip it slowly. She grimaced. “Fuck, that’s gross. And hot. Ugh. Is there any alcohol in this room? I need some hair of the dog.”

“I don’t…understand what that…” Quickly, I accessed some of that internal library, seeking a knowledge skill that would let me extrapolate the meaning of her phrase from context. “Oh. That works?”

“It’s supposed to.” Selena’s gaze was still hidden behind those dark glasses, but I could feel her eyes boring into me. “I don’t usually drink that much, but last night felt weird.”

I looked around the room for something that would help her and found a small bar car stocked with decanters, crystal glasses, and even a bottle of wine. My own stomach churned at the sight of that. I held up a decanter of clear liquid.

“This?”

“Ugh…” Selena groaned. “If I never see tequila again, it’ll be too soon.”

“I think it’s—” I took off the cap and sniffed. The alcohol stung my nostrils. A quick scan of internal information. “Vodka?”

“Oh. Sure, that’ll be fine. Maybe. Fuck if I know.” She sounded lazy and kind of angry, but there was a small tremble in her voice that I could tell she was trying to hide.

Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it at all, so I pretended that I didn’t, either.

She held up her mug, the coffee sloshing, and I added some vodka to it. Selena sipped. Grimaced. Sipped again. This time, she shrugged and fell back against the chair again.

“Is it working?” I asked her.

She snorted. “Maybe. I might have to hurl. Who knows.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Look,” she said, barely concealing her snarl. “I don’t need your sympathy, okay? I’m fine. Why don’t you go play with some toys or something. Leave your old auntie alone.”