Mickie
“Okay, I know that beer is an acquired taste,” I said after managing to swallow my last disgusting sip. “But I’m pretty sure I’m physically incapable of accomplishing that feat.”
“Come on,” Dawson chided. “You haven’t even given it a real shot.”
I waved around to the dozens of tents and booths scattered around Winston Park. Thanks to a fake ID Whitney had procured for me, I’d managed to secure my way into today’s festivities.
“We’ve been here for two hours, I’ve tried over ten different kinds of beers, and they’ve all tasted the same.”
“Uh, amazing?” he prompted.
“Uh, like cat urine.”
He put his hands over both of his ears, covering them like ear muffs.
“What are doing?” I asked.
“I’m making sure my ears aren’t bleeding,” he answered, forcing me to roll my eyes. “Hey, you said you wanted a full college experience,” he added, guiding me through the crowd with his hand on my lower back. “Not that I’m an expert in the area, but I’d assume that getting drunk at Oktoberfest would be something a normal college student would do.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re trying to get me drunk?”
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a tingling sensation down to the Area None Have Traveled.
Well, except for Dawson’s fingers. They’d been there a few times in the last couple of months.
Because he was now officially my boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
I now had one of those.
And although we hadn’t done “the deed” yet, I didn’t feel pressured. Sure, I wanted to, but he had been far more understanding than I would have ever expected a guy to be. Especially a guy of his age, who I was sure had had many a bed partner over the years.
I hoped I didn’t disappoint him when we eventually did do it.
“Baby, I don’t need to get you drunk in order to take advantage of you,” he murmured in my ear.
I chuckled into my cup of beer. I had no idea why I was still drinking it. Sewer water was a more apt description.
“True. You can’t take advantage of the willing. And drunk or not, I would be.”
He wrapped his arms around me from behind and squeezed me into him. “Mmm. For a virgin, you have a downright filthy mind.”
I turned my head, bringing our faces close together. “Guess I’ve been hanging around you too much. You’ve corrupted me.”
He grinned. “That’s the plan.”
Something occurred to me right then. “You’ve been a lot of my firsts, you know.”
His forehead creased. “What do you mean?”
I held up my fingers, ticking off each point. “The first time I smoked pot, the first time I got drunk, the first time I had se—” I snapped my mouth shut, shyness overcoming me. “Well, we haven’t gotten that far yet. But you’ll be the first…”
“Damn right I will be,” he said firmly.
God, I loved when he got all demanding on me.
“But I don’t know if those are all good things,” he said in a more somber voice.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I mean…” He paused, appearing to be contemplating his words. “You’d never done any of those things before. I just have to wonder…” His eyes snapped to meet mine, his expression fiercely intense. “Am I really corrupting you, Mick?”
Oh, Dawson.
If I had learned one thing about him over the last two months, it was that he had a very self-deprecating opinion about himself. And I wasn’t really sure why.
He hadn’t shared much about his past, or his family, or how he’d grown up. In fact, he hadn’t shared much at all about his life, aside from his current job and the fact that he had two younger brothers. He’d heard my many tales of growing up with my aunt, uncle, and sister in a middle-class neighborhood in Jersey.
But he’d been pretty closed-mouthed.
I could only discern that meant there weren’t many pleasant stories.
Not that it mattered to me.
Because I wanted to know all of them. I wanted to know everything about Dawson, inside and out. Though, I suspected it was going to take some work.
I held his eye contact when I responded. “Of course, you’re not. I’m finally living my life like a normal eighteen-year-old girl. I told you I wanted to branch out when I got to college. Broaden my horizons. You’ve helped me do that. Not hindered me from it.”
There were still thoughts swirling around in his eyes, but he remained silent.
Cheering suddenly broke out in a nearby booth where a crowd had gathered. The banner hanging above the tent said, “BEER PONG TOURNAMENT $10 ENTRY FEE.”
I looked at Dawson, he looked at me.
“No,” he growled at the same time that I squealed, “Yes!”
“You just said you don’t even like beer,” he said as I dragged him over to the registration table.
“Yes, but you do, and I happen to be an excellent shot.” I looked up from filling out the form and gave him my “Mickie means business” face. “The winners get a $200 gift card to Dave and Buster’s. I’ll take one for the team and drink some cat urine for $200 to Dave and Buster’s.”
He immediately looked to the woman working the registration desk. “Another form here, please. I’m with her.”
I stood there gazing at him with a satisfied grin.
He glanced up. “What? I’d do anything for some D and B’s.”
My grin turned devious. “I’ll keep that in mind.”