In Between
Page 2
Ah, hell. Why not? “I suppose I can handle a shot,” I laughed. After all, it was a Friday night, and I didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. At this point, I should probably pray to the hangover gods, but fuck it.
He ordered two shots of tequila (God help me) and slid one over to me. “You got a name?” he asked, still presenting that boyish smile.
“Serena. You?”
“I’m Luke. Do you go to school here?” he asked, referring to the university campus down the street.
“Yeah, I’m finishing up my marketing degree this year. How about you? Wait, hold on, let me guess.” I thought for a minute, making an over-exaggerated show of pretending to analyze him as he raised his eyebrows. “Business or engineering major?”
“What the hell? How did you do that?” He widened his eyes and laughed. “I’m a business major.”
I shrugged, joining in his laughter. “Just a lucky guess, I suppose.”
“Well, Miss I-can-see-inside-your-mind, I suppose I don’t need to tell you anything about myself if you’re able to just guess. What else you got?” He teased.
“Well, for starters, you have good taste in music,” I began, nodding toward his shirt. “Next, I’m gonna say that you have some kind of outdoorsy hobby. Maybe hiking or kayaking? And my last observation is . . . hmm . . . that you secretly like Taylor Swift.” They were all pretty common things, more likely to fit most people than not, but I was enjoying acting over-the-top about “guessing.”
He chuckled with a smile that lit up his eyes. “Yep, you pretty much nailed it. Except no hiking or kayaking, but I do like to skate, which I guess counts as an outdoors activity.” He took a swig of his drink. “Now it’s your turn, though. Tell me about yourself, aside from you apparently being a mind-reader and all that.”
I smiled, hoping he couldn’t sense my nervousness. I hated talking about myself, and I had been making too much of a show of pretending to analyze him that I hadn’t been thinking about what I could say about myself that sounded interesting. “Well, I love music, mostly modern rock. I’ll read anything I can get my hands on. And my dream job is to be an author someday.”
“Wow, that’s awesome!” He said. “What do you like to read?”
I shrugged. “Pretty much anything, depending on my mood. Though right now, I’m on a fantasy and romance kick.”
“Another drink?” He asked, nodding to my now-empty glass.
I glanced over toward where Leah and Angie had been, but they weren’t on the dance floor anymore. I looked around, trying to spot them in the moving crowd but couldn’t find the tell-tale sparkle of Angie’s pink dress anywhere.
I pulled out my phone to check my texts and saw one from Leah. Headed over to Hometown Bar. You looked like you were busy. See ya later!
Great. So much for sticking together, even though they had vehemently assured me that they would stay with me all night. I had been at the bar away from them for less than fifteen minutes, and that’s all the time it had taken for them to decide that I wasn’t important enough to wait for.
“Sure, what the hell,” I responded to Luke’s proposition. It probably wasn’t a good idea for me to drink more, but I was pissed. Fuck them for leaving me after I had been so nervous and hesitant about going out. I was getting angrier with every second. They couldn’t have at least told me they were leaving before they left? Or waited a couple minutes to see if I wanted to come with? They knew I had felt awkward about going out with them and their sorority sisters in the first place. I guess this just solidified that they didn’t actually care if I was with them. Lesson learned.
Luke bought another drink for each of us, as well as another shot. I already knew that my head would be pounding tomorrow. Guess I may as well make the most of it. I could take an Uber home later, since I didn’t have a ride now anyway. There was no way in hell I would beg them to come back and pick me up, and I definitely wasn’t about to trail them like a sad, lost puppy to the other bar. But then again, I couldn’t go home too early, because I didn’t even have my key. Leah had lost her copy and borrowed mine a few weeks ago, and we hadn’t risked leaving the apartment unlocked and unattended on a Friday night. The plan was for all of us to stick together for the night. But screw me, I guess.
“Salud.” Luke raised his shot glass and I mimicked his action. The liquor stung my throat as I swallowed it, wincing, and I quickly chased it down with a few sips of my vodka and Sprite.
Luke laughed. “It’s not that bad!”
“Liar. Tequila has a bad reputation for a reason.”
“Yeah, but usually its reputation comes more from the consequences of drinking it than it is the taste. Especially if you get the good shit.”
“It all tastes nasty to me, whether it’s a ten-dollar bottle or five-hundred-dollar one.” I shrugged.
“Anyway,” he said, “back to our conversation. Books. You said you liked fantasy and romance. What are your favorites?”
“Ummm . . .” I giggled, feeling the buzz from the alcohol creep its way through my body. “Well . . . I don’t know.” I didn’t want to admit to him that the romance books I read were often just porn with a plotline.
“Is it one of those romance books that has a sex scene like every other page?” He snickered, knowing the answer immediately by the look on my face.
“No!” I paused as he raised his eyebrow at my vehement response. “Well, maybe . . .”
He laughed and shook his head, his brown curls bouncing loosely. “Tell me about it, then.”
Fuck it. I’d probably never see this guy again. I may as well keep the conversation going. Plus, talking about books was one of my favorite things to do. “Well, one of my favorite books right now is about this girl who’s dating a total douchebag, and they end up needing to move in with his dad, even though he and his dad don’t really get along. The girl begins to realize that her boyfriend is an inconsiderate dick, and his dad is a total hottie. Long story short, she ends up with the dad, who’s a million times cooler, hotter, and more interesting than his lame-ass son.”
“So, you like older dudes then?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
I snorted. “Just because I read about something doesn’t mean I necessarily want it to happen to me. I also just read a book about a woman getting kidnapped by some mafia guys where they all end up ‘together,’ sexually and emotionally, but I’m not exactly dying to be juggling five different dudes at once. It’s just entertainment. Plus, I’m too busy for a man, anyway. No hot dads or sexy, murderous mafia men in my near future.”
Luke chuckled and scooted his chair closer so that his knees were touching mine and leaned in. His breath reeked of alcohol. “Well, maybe you can clear some time in your busy schedule and make an exception to ‘being too busy’ for me tonight.”
I laughed awkwardly and leaned back. He was cute, but I didn’t feel comfortable going to a random guy’s house, and I didn’t have a key for my own. Anyway, it had been a long time since I’d had sex, and I really hadn’t had that intention when coming out tonight. I began to make up an excuse but stopped myself, remembering that I needed to learn how to say “no” without some sort of explanation. “Sorry, but I don’t think so,” I told him.
“Come on,” he pleaded, “just for tonight. We could have a lot of fun. I could make you feel good.” He added a wink for good measure.
If there was one thing I had learned in my brief sexual encounters, it was that when a man tries to convince you to have sex and makes promises about how good he’ll be, he is always mediocre at best and downright appalling at worst. “Really, I appreciate the offer, but no thanks.”