Carter’s face lit up like the sun. “Yeah. You like football?”
“I, yes, I do. There’s a lot of strategy involved that’s intriguing.”
Carter wrapped an arm around Toby’s shoulder. “Where have you been all my life?”
Toby’s smile was wide, and as he and Carter began talking about all things football, I suspected I wasn’t the only one who’d be taking Toby under his wing from here on out.
S O P H I A
Dinner went well. Carter announced proudly that he had the perfect costume for Aamee’s party, but he’d been having trouble finding a date to agree to be the other half. He refused to tell us who he was going to be, but since a good-looking football player was having trouble finding a date, I could only assume he wanted someone to be something like Wardrobe Malfunction Janet Jackson.
“How ’bout you guys?” he asked. “Who are you going as?”
“Someone who thinks Greek life is a way to make money and steal people’s individuality,” Aniyah said.
Carter looked around like he had no idea what she was talking about. “The theme’s musical couples, so you might wanna rethink that.”
“I’m not going, Ochocinco.”
He eyed her like he wasn’t sure what to make of that before saying, “You will,” as if it were his decision. “And I’ll choose to take the Ochocinco comment as a compliment.” Then he looked around at the rest of us. “What about all of you? Who are you going as?”
“I haven’t thought much about it,” Drew admitted, and I said the same. If I were going to put my focus into a sorority event, it was going to be my own.
After some peer pressure from the rest of the group, Xander said he’d consider going but couldn’t make any promises, and Toby was just shocked he was invited. I didn’t want to pop his pseudo-popularity bubble by telling him it was open to anyone who wanted to attend.
It surprised me how much our odd little group got along, but there was no denying that we meshed well.
Carter drained his second beer before putting it down loudly on the table. “We heading upstairs?”
Everyone agreed, so we settled our tab and made our way up to the club. I’d been here a couple of times before—once for an eighteen-and-over night and another with a fake ID. It wasn’t normally my scene, especially since Greek life came with a built-in social calendar, but I was looking forward to blowing off some steam with Taylor.
The club was much more crowded than I would’ve guessed, considering how laid-back it was downstairs. Music pulsed through the room as strobe lights flashed to a DJ’s beat.
“Come dance with me,” Taylor yelled over the noise, and she began dragging me behind her before I could reply. Not that I would’ve refused, but I might have at least tried to make sure the others were following us. We were quickly swallowed by gyrating bodies, and I lost sight of the others.
It didn’t take long for me to lose myself to the music. Sweat began to slick my skin as we moved to the beat. On the dance floor with Taylor, I let it all go: the bullshit with Aamee, the fundraiser I’d have to throw, the complicated mess with Drew, the stress of school, all of it.
It was like the perspiration pushed it from my body and it dissipated into the air as we danced. Guys came and went, but Taylor and I paid them little to no attention, so they quickly moved on.
Eventually, though, I began feeling my body getting sluggish. I leaned close to Taylor and said into her ear, “Wanna get a drink?”
She nodded instead of responding verbally. I grabbed her hand so we wouldn’t be separated and led us to the bar. There was a throng of people—at least two deep—around the bar.
“This is intense,” I yelled to her.
“Maybe we should go to the bar downstairs?” Taylor asked.
I was contemplating it when I felt a presence at my shoulder. “Need a drink?” a deep, raspy voice asked.
I whirled around and locked on to a set of dark eyes. I didn’t know the man who’d spoken, but I was interested in rectifying that. He was gorgeous, with curly dark hair, a wide smile full of perfect teeth, and there might have even been a dimple. It was tough to tell in the dark. It could’ve been a shadow from his stubbled jaw.
“Yeah,” I replied, motioning to the people in front of me. “But it’s probably going to be a while.”
“I think I can help you out with that.” He gestured for us to follow him before making his way to the end of the bar, where there was a large assortment of glasses waiting to be put away. “Wyatt!” he yelled.
I leaned in and saw a guy look over at him, hold up a finger to say he’d be over in a minute, and then finish the drink he was making.
“He’ll be right over. I’m TJ, by the way.” He shook my hand and then Taylor’s as we each told him our names. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said to us, though he looked at me.
“Jesus, it’s fucking packed in here,” Wyatt said, slightly out of breath. “What can I get ya?”
“I’ll take a fresh one,” TJ said as he held up his glass. “And then whatever they’re drinking.”
I didn’t want to order something that was a hassle to make so I asked for a Malibu and Sprite.
“I’ll have the same,” Taylor said.
Wyatt nodded and set off to make our drinks.
TJ turned his attention back to us. Well, to me.
“You guys from around here?”
I always hated questions like that, because while it could be harmless small talk, it was also exactly the kind of thing a creep would want to know.
“Not originally,” I replied, being intentionally vague.
“Me neither. But I came here for college, stayed for a Master’s, and now I work downtown, so I guess I’m here to stay.” TJ’s smile was charming and endearing—the kind of smile I couldn’t help but return.
Wyatt returned with our drinks, and TJ said, “Add them to my tab.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” Taylor said.
TJ waved her off. “No worries. It’ll save Wyatt time if he doesn’t have to open a new tab.”
That was likely bullshit, but there wasn’t much point in arguing.
“Thank you,” I said.
“So, what do you two do for a living?” he asked.
“We’re students,” Taylor replied before I had a chance to.
“Oh, what are you studying?”
“Criminal Justice,” Taylor said, the words thrown out almost like they were a warning. Though I couldn’t decide if it was because she usually had to deal with dudes who expected her to say something like Supermodel Training or because she was warning him that she wouldn’t hesitate to turn the law against him if he stepped out of line.
“Nice. Going to go into law enforcement?”
“Law School.”
TJ nodded before turning his attention to me.
“I’m a little more boring,” I said. “Marketing, with a minor in psychology.” I felt dumb after I added the last bit, but marketing wasn’t the most interesting field, while psychology was. Not that I was trying to impress this guy. Even if he was movie-star handsome and bought me drinks and looked at me like he wanted to devour me.