Sinners Consumed (Sinners Anonymous, #3)

by Somme Sketcher

“Vodka.” My shoulders pull taut. “Since when did you start drinking vodka?” “Since you said you wouldn’t kiss me if I drank whiskey.”

“What did Blake do?” “Pissed me off.” I swallow. “So you killed him.” His palm presses harder into my stomach, and his chin comes to rest on my shoulder. “He was eyeing something up that doesn’t belong to him.”

“Jeez, what an ugly bookshelf,” Tayce mutters, following my gaze. Rory comes up beside me. “Are they the For Dummies books? Looks like the whole collection? I can’t imagine Rafe reading those.” “He doesn’t,” I whisper, my throat going thick. “Well, who does then?” I swallow. “Me.”

Something sweet and sickly blooms in my chest. She can have my drink. Fuck, she can have it all. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give her, and that’s the problem.

I have this habit of playing her hotline ramblings through the speakers when I’m in the car alone. I’d never let the thought slide into my head fully-formed, but I have a sad feeling it’s because her voice filling the car makes it feel like she’s in the passenger seat, talking shit to me until she falls asleep.