He slowly stood
back up, his bloodshot eyes traveling across the sober faces staring back at
him. The woman had stopped dancing and the minster stared at Dean like he had
just killed a kitten. The looks of disdain breaking their automatic
professionalism made Dean grin. He ran a wet hand through his hair and inhaled
a deep breath of salty air. “Are we done here?”
The minster
stood with his mouth collecting the sea breeze and responded with a shallow
nod. Dean took another chug from the bottle and wiped his mouth on his
shoulder, turning it brown. He turned for the fancy hotel behind him with Megan
hot on his heels and the thin man grumbling something about
howlies
.