Alpha Dylan

Chapter 3 | Wasted Nights

I followed Dylan into the club, watching him disappear into the crowd, making his way over to his group of friends, growling, pushing one of them backwards into the wall behind him.

I averted my eyes, knowing my arousal was rising watching my mate in this state, his testosterone wafting through the air, making me shiver.

I turned towards the bar, waving at Gia as I made my way over to her, taking the shot from her hand. "I need this." I said, throwing it back, wincing as it burnt my throat.

"Are you okay?" asked Gia, furrowing her brows, looking concerned.

"I'm fine, let's just forget about it for now." I said, waving her concern away, taking yet another shot.

"If you say so," replied Gia, asking the bartender for more drinks.

I craned my neck slightly, looking over at Dylan in the corner, who was watching me carefully, shaking his head and muttering to himself when he saw the bartender pass over a tray of more shots.

I quickly averted my attention to Gia, not wanting to worry about Dylan for the rest of the night. I was here to celebrate my best friend's twenty first birthday, and I didn't want to ruin the night for her.

After a few more shots each, Gia pulled me onto the dance floor running her hands through her blonde hair as she moved to the music, pulling me in for a hug as we laughed, almost toppling over onto a girl next to us. "I love you!" yelled Gia, waving her hands up in the air.

"I love you!" I screamed back, jumping up and down to the beat of the music.

The rest of the night was a blur, filled with drinking, dancing and taking shots. Gia continued to order drink after drink, determined to try every cocktail on the menu. They tasted like juice, and I was easily able to down them in one chug, quickly moving onto the next one.

We had definitely taken it too far...

............................................

"Clara! Clara, can you hear me?" a voice called, causing me to groan, rolling over.

"We need to get her up. She might choke on her vomit," another concerned voice said. I opened my eyes, slightly, wiping at my face as my blurry vision became clear. I gazed up to see Gia and Dylan looking down at me, their faces masked with worry.

"Clara, you need to stand up," ordered Dylan, gently grabbing me, placing one hand at the back of my neck and one on my waist, helping me to my feet. Dylan looked into my eyes, his brows furrowed. "How do you feel?"

I swallowed, shaking my head. "What the hell is happening?" I asked, confused as to how we all got outside the club, and how I ended up on the floor.

"You're hammered Clara. You need to go home," replied Dylan, holding me tightly by the waist as I attempted to kneel down, a wave of nausea rushing over me. "Nope, Clara, you can't sit down."

"I feel sick," I whined, clutching at my stomach.

Dylan ran his hands through his dark hair in angst. "Okay, come over here away from everyone."

I was led round the corner, and I leaned my hand against the wall as I emptied the contents of my stomach onto the ground, Dylan holding my long brown hair out of the way, one hand resting on my back.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, wiping at my mouth as I turned to a blurry Dylan, his mouth set in a firm line. "You're angry," I stated, sighing.

"It's not nice seeing your mate like this, so yes, Clara, I am angry," he mumbled, shaking his head. "I just want to get you home."