Page 2 of Hooking Up

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I nodof course. I will be. As soon as I find someone to get me out of my head.

I grab a plastic cup from the bar and fill it with room temperature whiskey. It's not good shit. It burns my throat.

Someone is behind me. Pressing her chest against me. "Are you okay, Walker?"

I turn to face a pretty woman with a red pout. One of Bree's friends. An old one. Her name escapes me.

"Fine, yeah." I take another swig. Let the drink sand off the rough edges. I'm a hypocrite, yeah, but it's necessary.

"How is Bree? I haven't seen her in forever."

"She's Bree." And this conversation is over. I nod a goodbye and move through the makeshift dance floor. The song flows into the next one. I think. I can't tell this music apart.

Friends chat on the couch.

A couple is sitting in the arm chair, making out.

A woman is leaning against the wall, her fingers wrapped around her plastic cup, her lips curled into a frown.

She looks as miserable as I feel.

And as desperate to be somewhere else.

Perfect.

I move closer. She's curvy. Pretty. Dark hair in one of those asymmetrical cuts. Like Leighton's, but shorter. Blue eyes. Soft lips.

She looks smart. Serious. Like a suit.

But there's something else about her. The tight jeans, the leather jacket, the purple gem hanging between her tits.

Fuck, she has nice tits.

There goes my train of thought.

Good riddance.

I move next to her. Copy her stance.

She looks to me. Gives me a long once-over. It's slow. Deliberate.

I bring my glass to my lips. "Let me in on your secret. Thisiswhere the cool kids hang."

"What makes you think I'm a cool kid?" She taps her glass with her purple fingernail.

"I don't."

"You don't?"

"Not yet. Just want to make sure I'm in the right place."

She laughs. "Because you're cool?"

"You think otherwise?" I run a hand through my wavy hair. This is easy mode shit, but I'm not in the mood for a challenge tonight.

"I spend most of my time with PhD candidates. My cool scale is skewed."

"What are you studying?"

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