Page 14 of The Has-Been

The music is loud, blaring a song I can’t make out through the laughter and conversation.

I’m inside no longer than a minute when I have a strange sensation run through me.

There is a scent in the air that stirs something inside of me. It’s subtle, drowned out by the stench of alcohol and smoke wafting around.

I recognize it immediately—I could decipher who it belongs to even in a crowd of thousands.

It’s clean—a hint of citrus and a soft musk.

So distinctly…him.

Scents have a way of bringing you back to a moment, a point in time. This one does just that, no matter how hard I try to fight it.

“I’m thirsty! I’m getting a drink, you guys want something?” I yell, looking over my shoulder to the group of classmates I came out with tonight. They each check their drinks, then shake their heads.

I move to the bar, fishing my fake ID from my back pocket.

It’s ridiculously obvious that it’s a bogus one. I think I paid fifty dollars for it, so it’s not fooling anyone. Then again, it does the job, as I have a feeling the bartender here doesn’t really care. Melbourne’s is far too busy to be inspecting each ID cautiously.

I place my order, panicking about what drink I want, when I feel a steady finger tapping me on the shoulder. I turn, expecting it to be one of my friends who’ve changed their mind on needing a drink, but my eyes find a towering figure smiling down at me.

My bangs fall over my eyes, the ends tickling my skin as I quickly brush them out of my face.

Holy shit.

It’s Liam Anderson…like the captain of the hockey team, number one on my list of boyfriend prospects—that Liam Anderson.

He must think I’m someone else, because there is no other explanation as to why he’d approach me of all people.

No fucking way.

I mean, look at him…all lines of muscle and perfect chiseled jaw line—then look at me…I’m pretty sure I have a grease stain on my jeans from the burger I ate before I got here.

Looking him up and down, my brows pull together as I wait for him to excuse himself or shove me aside so he can order a beer for himself.

“Hey, I’m Liam,” he greets, leaning in so I’m able to hear him over the pounding of music.

I blink.

Well, no shit. Of course you’re Liam, I think to myself. Everyone knows who you are.

I think I need to lay off the vodka sodas because I’m clearly so drunk I’m hallucinating Liam Anderson introducing himself to me.

Spinning around, I grab my drink, reaching for my ID beside it when fingers brush over mine. Instantly, I pull mine back, eyes wide as Liam picks up the card.

My mouth drops open as I watch Liam grip it in his hands.

What is he doing?

“So, Blake…” he eyes me as he actually snorts at my fake ID. “Are you too good for a beer?”

I seize the card from his hand and tuck it back into my pocket.

I shrug my shoulders, attempting to play it cool.

“I don’t think I’d like the taste.”

He inclines his head, his stare leaving my eyes. Did he just blatantly check me out?