One of the very few… but still.
I’m just the little sister they would never be interested in helping with guy stuff, and honestly, I would rather run through campus butt naked than talk to them about my “guy” problems, or lack thereof.
Because I’m distracted and in my head, I miss my initial shot, which makes the hockey guys entirely too confident. They think they have it in the bag, and that makes them sloppy.
That was their first mistake.
Little do they know, I’m kind of a beer pong champion—that’s why Wren refuses to play with anyone else.
“Told you assholes,” Wren boasts proudly when I sink the next three shots in a row and blow out a ball that circles the inside rim of the solo cup, preventing them from scoring a point.
I laugh. “Wrenny, it’s not nice to brag. You know it’s never too late to make a comeback.”
Of course they don’t though, because we’re undefeated, and I amnotgiving up my title that easily.
After the game finishes, Wren wanders off to find a girl he’s been texting all night, and I’m on my own, walking around the house to find the kitchen for another drink. It’s barely midnight, but the three drinks I had earlier have my head feeling light and my limbs heavy as I push my way through the crowd.
All I had to eat today was a protein bar and a pack of gummy worms, which I’m realizing is not ideal when drinking, but it explains why the alcohol has hit me so quickly.
Note to self: no more vodka cocktails on an empty stomach.
Even if they’re sugary and packed full of delicious carbs.
In the kitchen, I finally get another drink, eagerly swallowing the alcohol from the plastic cup.
“Rory, hey!”
My gaze lifts, and I see Carson Wright standing in front of me wearing a wide smile that shows two perfect dimples in his cheeks.
Oh God.
He’shere.
Somehow between the alcohol and playing beer pong with Wren, I had nearly forgotten about meeting him here. That had been the perfect distraction, and now that Carson’s standing in front of me, my stomach dances with nerves.
Lifting my hand awkwardly, I offer him a small wave. “Hi.” It comes out as a squeak, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or the fact that he’s talking to me outside of our pharmacology class. Or that he actually came.
He’s tall, lean, and ridiculously hot, wearing a soft burgundy sweater and a pair of acid-washed jeans and old Converses. The thick black glasses on his face make him resemble a young Henry Cavill, and I think maybe I should just not say anything at all in fear of embarrassing myself, which is something I am veryverylikely to do.
You can do this, Rory. You’ve got liquid courage. You came here for a reason.
That reason is standing literally right in front of you.
“I’ve been looking for you. I saw Liam in the backyard, and he said you came with Fitz,” he says with a raspy chuckle, pushing his thick black-framed glasses up on his nose. “You having fun?”
“Mm-hmm, yes. Definitely. How about you?” I nod enthusiastically, waving my hands as I speak. Jesus, what am I even doing? What am I even supposed to be doing with my hands right now?
His shoulder lifts as his grin widens. “Better now.”
Oh God. My stomach flips, doing somersaults inside me.
What does that even mean?Better now? Better because he’s seen… me?
Is this… Couldthisbe my moment?
I’ve thought he was cute for like the entire semester but never had the courage to say anything to him outside of our conversations in class about homework and study guides. Until today, when he asked me to come here and I said yes.
I laugh and it comes out slightly awkward and a little too loud. “Uh, yeah? Th-thanks for asking me to come tonight.”
