“Oh, cool,” she says, nodding and seeming to understand the situation better. “So, is there a place where I can grab a drink around here?”
“For sure. The kitchen is fully stocked. Marc, you can show her where it is.” Hopefully, if Marc gets a drink in him, he will loosen up. He’s being oddly stiff. I know he’s only really been with Lauren, so he’s a little out of the game, but he can do better than this.
“You drinking tonight?” he asks me.
“Haven’t decided yet. So far, just water.” I hold up my red solo cup in a ‘cheers’ motion.
We give each other a little head nod as he and Ali make their way to the kitchen. I’ll catch up with him at some point later on in the night.
I scan the room, unable to decide what I want to do or who I want to talk to. Maybe I should’ve gone with Marc and his date. I’m honestly pretty bored already. It’s all the same girls who are used to throwing themselves all over me and every other guy in this place, and I’ve never understood why chicks wear the tiniest outfits they own with the highest heels they can find to these parties. By the end of the night, they all have their shoes off, and the floors of this house are usually covered with sticky alcohol and vomit. Realizing that if these are the type of people I’m dealing with tonight, maybe I should just start drinking.
The downstairs bathroom usually has a line and is pretty gross, even this early on in the evening, so I head upstairs to take a piss before I officially decide what my plan is for the night. As I make my way to the stairs, I get stopped a couple more times by people I kind of recognize, but honestly have no idea who the fuck they are, nor do I care to find out.
Once I finally make it to the stairs, I take them two at a time, needing to get the fuck out of this living room and away from these people even if only for a minute. I realize I’m still rushing when I get to the bathroom door, not because I have to piss, but because I just need to breathe for a second away from everyone else’s eyes.
As soon as I reach for the handle on the bathroom door, it opens and someone knocks into me as they’re trying to leave the bathroom in a hurry, which causes me to spill my drink all over my shirt.
“Shit! Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” they say, covering their face with both hands.
“Look where you’re going next time,” I growl. I’m not in the mood for this shit tonight. I lift my eyes off my soaked shirt to see who it is that just pissed me off.
The girl standing in front of me is tall, with pretty hair. It’s a dark red color, the kind of red that you can tell she dyes it, but it looks so good and shiny. It’s down and curled, but pulled to one side. Her collarbone is inked with a small handwritten tattoo on it, though I can’t read it from here, and her skin looks smooth with a natural golden glow to it. Her eyes are almost almond-shaped and a deep shade of emerald green. Her dark gray T-shirt highlights her chest perfectly, and her baggy jeans with holes at the knees make her look casual and effortless. She has a few bracelets on and a watch. An Apple Watch it looks like. She’s probably into working out; she looks like she works out. My eyes continue to trail down her body, finding a pair of black Vans on her feet, and I smile to myself as I think about all the girls downstairs wearing those ridiculous heels.
My final verdict is that this girl is absolutely gorgeous.
“Yeah. Okay. You’re right. My bad. Sorry again,” she states with disinterest, trying to make her way around me. I’m blocking the doorway, not on purpose, but because I’m a tall guy and take up a lot of space.
She’s thrown off by the edge in my voice. I try to think back to what she was responding to, but I’m a little taken aback by how pretty this girl is. What did I say to her before? Oh yeah, I was an asshole and told her to look where she was going next time. Nice one, Eli. You idiot.
“No, I’m sorry,” I begin, hoping I can prevent her from leaving. I’m not one to apologize for anything, but if it means she will stay, I’m willing to give it a shot. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it. You don’t have to look where you’re going. Ever. You’re welcome to run into me anytime.” I shoot her my most convincing smile, hoping that my charm will change her first impression of me.
“I’ll remember that next time I try to apologize for spilling someone’s drink on them.” She smiles, pointing to my wet shirt.
It seems to be working.
She has a perfect smile. It’s a little shy but perfect. Dimples indent both her cheeks, though the one on the left is more prominent, drawing my eye right to her mouth. I can’t stop staring at her mouth. Her lips look soft, and I wouldn’t mind feeling them against mine.
Snapping out of my trance, I glance down at my shirt. “Don’t worry about my shirt. It’s just water.”
As I look back up at her, we lock eyes. God, she’s pretty. I have no idea what to say to her right now because my brain is in a fog and I can’t seem to think straight. I’m never like this around girls.
“So, uh, are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” I lie. I know I’ve never seen this girl before. I would’ve remembered.
“Yeah, actually, I am. I’m starting grad school on Monday,” she replies.
Beautiful and smart. Goddamn. “Cool. Well, I’m going into my last year here, so if you need help finding your way around, I know the campus pretty well at this point.” I let out a halfhearted laugh. God, could I be any more awkward right now? “I’m Eli, by the way,” I tell her as I reach my hand out towards her, hoping my palm isn’t too sweaty from the nerves.
“Logan,” she states while returning my handshake.
As soon her hand touches mine, a calmness washes over me. It’s the calmest I’ve felt in a while.
Chapter 6
Logan
His hand is large and strong. The arm that’s reaching out to me is covered in tattoos, almost like he’s wearing a sleeve of ink. His skin is taut from the muscles underneath, and they cause his dark green T-shirt to be a little tight around his biceps. His wet shirt sticks to his abs, making him look like he should be modeling for an ad targeted towards women. He’s tall, really tall. He’s got to be 6’4”, at least. His dark brown hair is messy and unruly, causing him to have to push it out of his face repeatedly, and his rosy cheeks play off the paleness of his skin. His warm mocha eyes pour into me as I check him out, noticing that his other arm doesn’t have any tattoos. It makes me wonder if there are any more on the rest of his body. My eyes continue to wander over his frame, noting his dark blue jeans and gray Converse.
This guy is ridiculously attractive, and I get the sense he knows it.