One
Bethany
“Come on, Bethy, you never do anything fun! It’s nose stuck in a book all the time for you.” My sister pouted as she tore through what was at least a dozen slutty dresses in her closet. “This one would look perfect on you.”
I narrowed my eyes, taking in the short, black, glittery number. “That is not a dress, it’s a shirt. Everyone will see your bits and pieces. You don’t actually wear that in public, do you?” My eyes widened as I looked at the flimsy material. That so-called dress was long enough to fall just barely under my behind. If I moved, people would see everything. “I’m not wearing that.”
“Does that mean you’ll go?” Her eyes lit with a mischievous sparkle.
I sighed, frowning as I fingered a glittery red dress she’d tossed on the bed. “Yes, but you’d better find something longer. I’m not looking like a call girl.”
“You’re such a prude. A little cock never hurt anyone,” my wayward sister teased.
“I swear, I don’t even know how we’re related.”
“Believe me, I think that all the time.” She buzzed out of the wardrobe, heading to the bathroom. “Now, what are we going to do with your hair?”
She pulled curling irons and flat irons and a thousand products out of a basket.
“Can you give me some supermodel curls?” I’d never wielded a curling iron in my life, but my sister’s glam make-up and perfectly wind-blown waves always made me yearn for just one night of glam.
“Yes! Mermaid ringlets would be gorgeous. Maybe we can even add a little color! Let me do some highlights!” she squealed, and I groaned.
“No highlights.” I shook my head firmly. “I’ve never colored my hair. Why would I start now?”
“Because tonight you’re a new you. Try something else on for a while. Hair is only temporary.” She shrugged, and I huffed, checking out the streaks of magenta coursing through her dark locks.
I nibbled on my bottom lip, glancing down at the sensible Chucks on my feet, the cross body I wore nearly every day, then back to one of her fancy clutches on the bed.
“Can I carry that?” My eyes gleamed as I finally felt excitement pulse to life inside me.
“My McQueen?!” She stuck out her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes at me. “Swear on everything you hold dear to love it and cradle it like your firstborn child?”
I laughed outright. Taylor had always been fashion-obsessed, but I had no idea she felt that strongly. “I promise. And you’re off your rocker. I think you should know that.”
“Shut up, little sis.” She popped a kiss on my forehead, using the endearment she’d been using since we were little. We were only a year and a half apart. I for one didn’t see much of a distinction, besides, to most outsiders my maturity probably far outweighed hers.
“One night only, then tomorrow morning it’s back to the books. I have to pass that midterm or I’m screwed for the rest of the class.” I felt the anxiety coiling in my stomach again.
“I know, I know, if you don’t pass it, then what have you been working for all these years,” she mimicked. It was the excuse I often used.
“Well, I’m just saying. I’m not staying out late, and don’t ask me to do shots.”
“No shots? Boo!”
I grinned and shook my head at her boundless enthusiasm. “No shots. Now, what dress am I wearing?”
Two hours later and I found myself at the bar, a line of shots spread out before the two of us.
“Bottoms up, little sis.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I voiced my dismay before lifting a lemon drop shot to my mouth.
“To a wild night! And maybe a little sausage for both of us.” She winked before throwing the shot back, leaving me giggling uncontrollably, and choking down my own.
“Next!” Taylor called, slamming her glass down and lifting the second she’d ordered for each of us.
“‘I’m not even done with this one!” I swallowed a sip, the sour confection rushing down my throat.
“Come on, big girl panties up. Let’s do this.” She tipped the shot glass to my lips, and I swallowed the remainder of the liquid. I slid the empty glass across the bar and lifted the other. “YOLO.”
“For a big sister, you sure are a bad influence,” I grunted before gathering courage in my stomach and taking the other shot in one long gulp.
“Sisters?” someone said from behind me. “Another round on me!”
“What, no—” I turned to find a handsome guy, hair still wet from a shower, and bold dark eyes eating up the space between him and us.
“Why, thank you.” My sister cooed while leaning forward to give him a very generous view of her cleavage.
“Ah, here we go.” I knew that look. She’d found her plaything for the night.
“I’m Luc, wanna dance?” His gaze honed in on my sister’s breasts.
“Taylor Howard and I would love to,” she flirted shamelessly, lifting her hand out to his. He placed a kiss on it, and the cheesiness of the move almost made my stomach turn.
“Go, dance, be merry. I’ll be here.” I waved her off, turning back to the lemon drop the bartender had just placed in front of me. “Thanks for the drink!”
Taylor and Mystery Boy had already disappeared into the quickly thickening crowd.
“He does that a lot. You may want to warn her,” a voice rumbled from over my shoulder. I sighed, thinking if barhopping meant fending off creepy men all night, I would be retiring much earlier than even I expected.
“She’s fine. She does it all the time.” I waved off his concerns, not even bothering to match a voice with a face.
“I’m Jenson.”
A hand thrust out in my peripheral vision and I paused, thinking I didn’t even want to shake it. Who knows where it had been, who it had been in. The guys who hung around these places were definitely not my type.
“Well, Jenson, this isn’t really my scene, if you don’t mind.” I spun on my bar stool, finally catching a glimpse of the stranger.
Damp locks of hair fell over his forehead in a charming, just showered way. Dark stubble decorated a sharp jawline, his cheekbones high and his eyes the most astounding shade of ice blue I’d ever seen.
“You were saying?” His smile turned up, and I knew I’d been caught.
“I-I don’t even remember. I think the drinks are getting to my head already.”
“Drunk off a few lemon drops? You don’t get out much, do you?”
I shot him a sarcastic glance before catching sight of the drink in his hand. “Only a beer? Seems a little weak, don’t you think? I would have thought whiskey, bourbon, something a little manlier.” I didn’t know this guy, what did I have to lose? The point of tonight was to be someone different, and well, brazen was definitely different.
This wasn’t my scene, he wasn’t my type, why not engage in a little banter before I returned home for the night?
“Been a long day, and I’ve got another long one tomorrow. Taking it easy tonight.” His eyes sparkled when he talked. I didn’t even know that was possible.
“So what do you do, Jenson?” I asked when he settled on the stool next to me.
“Ah, I work in athletics. You said this isn’t much of your scene. Mind if I ask what is?”
I chanced a glance at him, my lips turning up in a traitorous smile when I caught sight of his expectant look. “The library, I suppose. Or the science department. I’m a Biology major.”
“Oh, a college girl?”
“You can drop the slutty college girl fantasies right now. I’m definitely not one of those,” I blurted, then kicked myself for my candor.
His deep chuckle sent shivers down my spine.
“Caught me.” He lifted up his hands in mock arrest.
“I knew it. I could see it all over your lascivious face,” I teased, sipping my lemon drop again.
“Lascivious?!” His bellow turned a few heads. Was I actually being funny? This was a new turn of events. I wasn’t the funny one, that was Taylor. “You wound me.”
“I bet,” I laughed, finally feeling a little more loosened up. I didn’t know if it was the shot, the atmosphere, him, or that intoxicating laugh.
“Your flirting leaves much to be desired.” He leaned in as he whispered conspiratorially.
“What? No, I wasn’t flirting.”
“Sure you were. Isn’t that why you’re here? Flirting isn’t a sin. It’s connecting with someone for a few brief moments in a way that makes you feel good, no harm in that.” He shrugged and pulled away, taking a draw of his beer as he watched me. As if he really enjoyed our conversation. I’d never connected with a man like this before, held his rapt attention. Well, this will be short lived, won’t it?
“You’re very philosophical for…what did you say you did again? Athletics?” I cocked an eyebrow.
“I travel a lot, gives me time to read.”
His reply took me by surprise. I hadn’t expected him to be a reader. A young, fit football coach maybe, but not a man who read books. I mean, he was a dumb jock, right?
“What’s the last book you read?”
“Quizzing me now?” His grin lifted playfully. “I didn’t come here to learn.” He leaned across the energized space between us, his eyes lowering a fraction. “Dance with me.”