Hanna's POV
"Are you okay?" I asked Damien for the hundredth time since we started towards home. Damien was promptly ignoring ever since he came to pick me up. If I asked a question he only answered in monosyllables.
"Yes," he frowned and I heard the annoyance in his voice.
I didn't say anything and looked out of the window. If he was being moody, so be it. I didn't want to mop around him. He would come around, eventually. We got home and even without waiting for me, Damien got out of the car and slammed the door. I got out and walked inside the house.
Damien was at the bar, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. I frowned at him. Whiskey? At five thirty? Something was definitely wrong.
"What's wrong?" I demanded, snatching the whiskey away from him. He frowned at me.
"No
