Page 194 of Alpha Mates

“Are you okay? Julian!”

I plan to tell him that I’m fine, because I know he’ll worry and I don’t want that, but my eyes are shutting, and sleeping feels like the best idea ever.

“Hey! Keep your eyes open! Julian?!”

He’s going to kill me tomorrow.

Chapter 38

Aiden

I can’t sleep. There’s no way I can when Julian’s eyes have been shut since he flew out of the car.

He’s fine. He’s not bleeding, there’s no bruising, and our bond is stable, so he’s fine. Iknowthat. But seeing him splayed out on the ground hadn’t been funny. It had been terrifying, and I still can’t look at anything other than his sleeping form.

You should’ve kept a better eye on him, Max sneers in my head.

I know,I snap back, but even when he quiets, the guilt doesn’t.

It’d been with me all night, and now all morning. The more hours that tick by with Julian doing nothing else but breathe, the more this guilt vacuum-seals my skin around me until breathing is so painful that I want to crawl out of my own body.

I comb my fingers through his hair. I untangled it from the nest it’d been in last night and kept it aside while I wiped off his smudged make-up. He cut his forehead in his fall, leaving behind a trail of dried blood over his brows. I’d wiped that up too, changed his clothes and put him in bed, but he stayed knocked out cold through it all. Just a faint snore to show he’s still with me.

I shouldn’t have gotten him so drunk.

I should’ve left him with the beers.

I shouldn’t have pushed.

If I hadn’t, we would’ve gotten home in one piece, and I wouldn’t be sitting here, willing Julian to wake up.

The change is sudden. It starts with twitches behind his eyelids, and then a slight frown before a loud groan as Julian curls over to hide from the sun. He forcefully opens a single eye that dances around the room in confusion before it settles on me.

Silently, he stares at me for a while before that lone eye shuts, and he groans again. Hungover then. I wince for him.

“Drink this,” I whisper, holding out the glass of red ginseng and tomato juice I’d made for him the second the sun started coming up. His hangover will be gone soon enough, thanks to our genes, but this little concoction would speed that up.

He squints at the cup like it’s poison, likely not thrilled at the idea of consuming more liquid. Still, he drags himself upright, downs it in one go, and immediately collapses again.

“My head,” he groans, rubbing his temples. His fingers brush the bandage on his forehead, making him freeze. He peels it off, and relief hits when I see smooth skin underneath.

He dangles the bloody bandage, frowning. “What happened there?”

“You slammed into a branch while standing through the sunroof. It took you straight out of the car,” I explain around the guilt choking me.

“Really?” He snorts, then instantly regrets it. “Ow.”

I blink at him, waiting for the anger and the blame, but it doesn’t come. “You don’t remember much, do you?”

“Uh.” His brows dip but he quickly relaxes them with another wince. “There was a microphone … some ping-pong balls,” he whispers, visibly straining to remember. “I think something with a goat … maybe …”

I chuckle, a bit of the pressure on my chest easing.

Julian’s good. And he’s not angry with me. He’s just hungover, and water and time will get rid of that.

“I’m sure there’s more than enough pictures and videos online to fill the gaps.”

His face pales, turning five shades lighter in an instant. “No …”