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So I haven’t given up, as stupid and as pointless as it might be. If she were here, I’d be enjoying this party a hell of a lot more. I run a hand through my hair, debating.
I pocket my phone without messaging her.
Maybe after a few more shots I’ll ask her to send me a photo back, but I’m not drunk yet.
There’s a brunette lying on the bed when I walk out of the bathroom. There’s a leap of excitement in my chest that dies when I register her face. The odds of Rylan showing up at another hockey party seemed slim anyway.
“Hey, Aidan.” She sits up, a coy smile curving up her lips as she crosses her legs, drawing the bottom of her skirt up so high she’s practically flashing her panties at me. “Saw you head in here…thought you might want some company.”
A line I’ve heard before.
Most of my hookups have involved girls following me into bathrooms or bedrooms, actually.
Tonight, it does nothing for me. It’s been weeks since I had sex, and playing through how this would go is like watching a movie. Undressing her…talking to her…touching her… I can picture each step.
There’s no motivation to make the effort, even when it’s being tossed right into my lap.
I know it’ll feel good in the moment, and I know I’ll feel just as empty when it’s over.
“Not looking for any company tonight,” I tell her.
Her expression is a mixture of shocked and embarrassed, which I feel bad about.
I’m not known for turning girls down, but I’m not going to fuck her just to spare her feelings.
I settle on “Have a good night” before heading out of the bedroom.
Sampson is standing in the hallway, smirking in my direction. His grin widens, and I’m guessing the girl left the bedroom right after me. Know exactly what it looks like. My hair is even messed up from my own irritation.
“Party just started, Phillips,” he tells me. “Pace yourself.”
“Did you guys get shots?” Hunter appears before I can respond to Robby, holding a tray of wiggling cups. They look disgusting but don’t taste terrible.
I down one, since I’m currently sober and probably the person enjoying this party the least. Maybe the girl I just turned down is feeling worse.
“Hell yeah!” Robby slaps my shoulder as I swallow, nearly causing me to choke. “Phillips just scored again,” he tells Hunter.
“Oh, yeah?”
I avoid eye contact with Morgan as I crush the cup in my hand, then toss it back on his tray. He hasn’t brought up Rylan since he saw her in my bedroom, and I’m relieved.
I don’t know what there is to say.
Yeah, I like her. Yeah, I’m attracted to her.
I have no clue if she likes me. And any attraction to me seems to vary on a day-by-day basis.
“Some brunette,” Robby is saying. “What was her name, Phillips?”
“No idea,” I say, tempted to reach for another shot.
Sampson whistles, then shakes his head.
“See you guys later.” I continue down the hallway, heading toward the living room instead of back into the kitchen. Chances are there’s a drinking game going on in there by now.
I push through the crowd of bodies, my elbow accidentally knocking into someone’s shoulder. I turn, an apology already on my lips. “Shit. I’m sorry…” I blink, but she’s still standing in front of me.
This time, it’s really her. And she looks hot as fuck, wearing jeans and one of those drapey tops that shifts and shows flashes of cleavage if you look hard enough. And I’mdefinitelylooking hard enough.
