“You guys know each other?” One of them asked. He looks like Everest, the guy I matched with. I take a close look at him, noticing the resemblance between him and the guy with dreamy eyes. Are they brothers?
“I wouldn’t say we know each other…he uhh…he caught me the other day when I almost fell,” I say, “I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Aspen,” he says. “Aspen Davis.”
Aspen.Of course his name is Aspen. What a beautiful name for a beautiful man. It makes sense. He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to say my name.
“Oh sorry, I’m Gen, or Genevieve. Whatever you want to call me,” I babble.
His smile grows. “Genevieve.” he says to lock it in.
Our eyes are locked, like we’re the only two people in this world that matter. For the second time, we’re interrupted.
“I’m Everest, the guy you matched with,” Everest says, taking my hand and kissing it.
“Nice to meet you.”
“And I’m Derek, apparently not important in this situation,” the third guy says awkwardly in the back.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
Lana comes up behind me, “Why don’t you let our guests in so they’re not freezing their bums off?” she asks.
My eyes widen. I’m so dumb. There’s something about this guy - he makes me forget how to think. I let them come in and Lana leads them to the kitchen.
“This is Lana, my best friend and roommate. We’re just here visiting for a few days and wanted to have a good time. There should be a few more people coming soon.”
“Where should I put these beers?” Everest asks.
“In the fridge!” Lana says.
She takes the case of beer, puts it in the fridge, and rips away the side so people can easily grab the beer.
It’s kind of awkward at first, but I tell myself it’ll get better. I just didn’t expect to actually see my mystery man. What are the odds?
Him and I are still making awkward eye contact, getting lost in each other's eyes while Lana is trying her hardest to make this situation better. Bless her heart.
I force myself to snap out of it and put my host goggles on.
“Who wants a shot?” I ask everyone.
“Whatcha got?” Derek asks.
“Tequila,” I say. Everyone groans like if I told them the Broncos weren’t making it to the super bowl. “Sorry boys,” I tell them.
I grab the shot glasses we just used and look in the cabinets for some cups. I find some, grab three, and place them on the counter. I take my bottle of Patrón and fill everyone’s glasses with the burning liquid. Once I’m done pouring the last glass, everyone picks them up, we raise our glasses, and cheers. Aspen and I do this while maintaining eye contact the entire time. We break only when we take the shots.
When everyone's back to facing each other, we all make disgusted faces in silence, then burst out in complete laughter.
“That shit is disgusting!” Everest says, making us laugh harder.
“I’m sorry! I don’t know what guys drink,” I admit.
“Beer,” Derek says, still with a grossed-out face, “just beer.”
Then, he sticks his tongue out like he’s trying to let the taste slide off.
He heads over to the fridge and grabs one that they brought.
