Page 19 of Between Hate and Desire

I groan. “Miserable as ever.”

He orders us another round of shots. At this pace, we won’t make it until Mason shows up. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it’s fucking bad. Lennon nags all the time about every little thing. I miss the simple life when it was just Brandon and me,” I admit because it’s true.

“You just need to get a girlfriend and have her move in too.” He barely finishes his sentence before he laughs at his own words.

I shake my head. “The apartment is too small as it is. I’d probably just move out and let them take over the lease. I have a feeling things are getting pretty serious with them, considering the constant fucking I have to listen to and the sickening lovey-dovey nicknames they have for one another. But who knows?”

Our next round of shots appears in front of us, and our names are called behind us as we take them. This time it doesn’t burn, which means I’ve officially drunk too much too fast. Liam and I turn around and see Mason. I realize they’re both dressed in dark blue button-up shirts and dark wash jeans.

“Look at you two, dressed like twins. You call each other and agree to match on purpose?” I ask, giving them as much shit as possible.

Mason looks at Liam and chuckles, though Liam doesn’t seem too impressed.

“Who knows, maybe your periods will sync this month too,” I tell Liam as Mason sits on the other side of me. They’ve been roommates for as long as Brandon and I have and can basically finish each other’s sentences at this point.

“Are you two assholes already drunk?” Mason asks before ordering.

Liam shrugs. “Traveling on a one-way street toward Wastedville.”

“If you keep it up, you’re gonna have whiskey dick and be crying for your mama.” Mason takes a pull on his beer as soon as it’s set in front of him.

We continue drinking until it’s dark, and I haven’t laughed this much in weeks. Hanging out with them is exactly what I needed. By the time we leave, we’ve had so much to drink, we’re essentially invincible. Stumbling out, we weave through the happy couples filling the restaurant and walk the few blocks to the club, but all I can think about is taking a piss.

Most of the people working still know Liam and me since we worked here throughout our college years, so we don’t have to pay the cover charge and go right in. The club is jam-packed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the fire marshal shows up to shut the party down. People crowd around the bar, and I tell the guys I have to make a pit stop first. I move across the club, making my way through hordes of bodies to the bathroom. I have to stand in line, which is annoying as hell, but thank God it’s not as long as the women’s bathroom.

As I lean against the wall, I open my Facebook app and see pictures of the flowers Brandon got Lennon for Valentine’s Day, along with the giant red velvet heart full of chocolates. Stupidly, I give it an angry face emoji and continue scrolling through my feed to pass the time.

“Hunter?” a female voice calls my name.

I look up and see Jenna Crosby wearing a low-cut shirt that leaves no room for the imagination and a skirt so tight it looks as if it’s painted on.

“Hey, you.” I grin, and she gives me a hug.

“It’s so good to see you!”

The line moves, and it’s my turn to walk inside. “Can you hold on one second? I’m about to piss myself.”

She nods. “Yeah, I’ll wait right here for you.”

I hurry and go, wash my hands, and walk into the dark hallway where Jenna patiently waits. She’s a pretty girl with dark brown hair and blue eyes. When I worked here, she was a cocktail waitress. I figured she had a thing for me by the way she flirted with me, but I never allowed the idea to cross my mind. She had a boyfriend anyway, and though she was a freshman in college, they seemed pretty serious. She’s a few years younger than I am, but tonight, she looks like a woman who knows exactly what she wants.

“I haven’t seen you since I quit,” she says. “How’s life been treating you after college? Did you ever get that dream job as a project manager that you wanted?”

We walk down the hallway and head toward the bar area and make small talk. The loud music means I keep having to bend down to hear her.

“Let me buy you a drink,” I offer, placing my hand on the small of her back.

“Sure, let’s get this party started.” Jenna smirks, her eyes laser focused on me.

I flag down the bartender as soon as we make it to the end of the oval-shaped bar.

With a grin, I ask, “What would you like?”

“Tequila,” she answers matter-of-factly.

I lift an eyebrow. “Tequila istrouble.”

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