Aiden quirks an eyebrow. "I wouldn't hurt you. I have enough control to … give you a taste. It'll wear off in an hour or two. Then you'll be clear headed. You can drive home."
I have to consciously tell my lungs to keep taking in and expelling air. His warm hand strokes up my arm.
"It'll stop the cravings for a while," he says carefully.
My breath stops. "I… it scares me," I croak. Would doing this mean the end of my sobriety, even if there's no substances involved?
And what does it mean if it isn't?
"I promise, you'll love it. Give me a couple hours. You won't regret it."
In my mind I see my wrist grasped in his hand, those flames on my fingers, the warmth, the thrill. The feeling of life flowing through me.
He says it's better than that? And leaves no trace? No destruction in its wake? If I was sure, I couldn't sign up fast enough.
