Alexander (CENTURIES series: Book #1)

19

If I hated going to parties with Alex when he was sober, happy and horny, imagine how much I hated going to parties when he was drunk, crazy and... well, still horny.

Yep, you got it. We were at that pretentious club that Miles's friend had opened, called Shot Up, and Alex had inebriated himself to the point where all he needed was a syringe and he'd be right back to where he was a few years ago. I was so fucking pissed at him, I had given up trying to talk to him.

"Keep that frown on all night and you'll need Botox by the time we close this place down," Miles contributed, coming up to me by the bar. I was watching Alex from afar, watching him chat with – you guessed it – some broad with a fake tan and acrylic nails.

"Why is he being like that?" I snapped, gesturing towards him. Miles followed my stare. "I've been trying to talk to him for like two weeks now and he just won't open up. He's been acting weird ever since his birthday."

"Maybe old age got to him," Miles smirked humorously. When he noticed my unamused face, he quickly wiped off his grin and got serious. "Alright, maybe he just needs some time? You know, to get some things straight? You know how he gets sometimes."

"That's just it. If I give him anymore time, he's going to get straight in between that hoe's legs and do what he always does," I snapped, watching with anger as he leaned closer to the busty dullard, clearly giving her the vibe, one that she was wantonly returning. "Excuse me, I need to pull my whore-boyfriend's dick away from that chick's pussy. I'll be right back."

Leaving Miles at the bar, I worked my way through the crowded club until I stood next to Alexander. Without gracing the skank with a look, I grabbed him by his arm. "Excuse me, I'm his personal nurse and I'm here to accompany him everywhere he goes because he's got the craziest case of the syf. Anyone who sleeps with him will wake up with the most serious monster rash and puss-filled blisters all over, so I'd do best and run the fuck away."

The broad just glared at me like I was crazy, but I didn't care. I yanked Alex away who followed me willingly, stumbling over his own feet. "Sooophie-guuuurl..."

"Nah-ah, I'm not 'Sooophie-guuuurl' right now," I snapped at him, dragging him into a quiet corner. I met his drunk, expanded eyes and had to seriously fight the overpowering stench of alcohol that reeked off him. "I'm your concerned friend and girlfriend who's going to ask you for the millionth time; are, you, OK? You're acting as if you've been doping again, and Alex, I swear to God if you have—"

"Sophie," He said, placing his hand on my shoulder. "I'm fiiiiine. I told you already, I'm just so happy to be with yoooou, and I'm enjoying liiiife..." His words were slurred and droopy thanks to the amount of alcohol he had consumed. I gritted my teeth at that.

"Alex, listen, you're not okay, something is clearly wrong, and if you would just talk to me—"

"Do you wanna have sex? I really wanna have sex right now," He interrupted, wobbling a little on his feet. "I know I'm drunk, but I can still fuck you like a pro. There's a handicap bathroom just over ther—"

"ALEX!" I yelled, now losing my cool. I had tried to be patient and hoped he would come to me eventually, I had tried asking carefully, harshly, nicely and now forcefully, but no matter what, he kept on acting like a secretive jerk. It had been two weeks now, and I had had enough. "I'm done with this bullshit you're doing. I don't know if it's just temporary, if it's some kind of phase you're going through, or if it's permanent, but I fucking know I don't like you the way you're acting! You're clearly going through something that you don't want to talk about, but Alex, it's me," I pleaded, cupping his face firmly, making his slurred eyes focus on me. "Just talk to me, please. I'll help you like I have in the past, just let me in!"