12/5/15

I SIT AT the bar alone.

The drink sitting in front of me is almost gone, and I stare at it contemplating if I should get another one or call it a night.

My eyes drag around the bar that is buzzing on a Saturday night. It's filled with people looking to drink their feelings away, and get lost in another person for the night. I down my drink instantly and motion for another round at the bartender.

My hair pushes forward and I shake my head faintly so it falls backwards letting the soft hairs brush my nearly bare back.

A small sigh falls from my lips as the bartender hands me another vodka soda. It's my drink of choice when I want to get drunk, but not belligerent. No, when I want to go wild I drink tequila, and a lot of it. But tonight isn't that type of night, so I sip on the slightly bitter drink instead.

My phone lights up and a part of me hopes it's my roommates Maxine and Grayson coming back to the bar. But the hope fizzles away just as swiftly as it bubbled up when I see it's just a dumb Twitter notification. I clear the notification away as annoyance slices through me. I settle in the wooden bar stool as I twirl the straw in my drink absentmindedly.

The night had started out great. All the roommates together huddled by a heater laughing and joking around when a knock stopped us all and Cale appeared before our eyes. It was shocking to see him after everything had unraveled this summer. So Maxine and I let Cale and Grayson have a moment, and when we came back out she was glowing. The kind of glow that I secretly envied. A glow that when her eyes met mine I knew, she was happy. A happiness that can only fill you when you've come to peace with everything in your life, and Grayson was there, and she was in love. Even if she didn't know it yet.

So we celebrated the fact that Grayson said yes to going on a date with Cale. Even though she didn't want to I dragged her ass, along with Maxine's, in the freezing cold to the closest bar and we all cheered to new adventures.

But only ten minutes in Grayson's older sister Bailey was calling her, so she left so she could hear her knowing this would be a long talk. She was going on a date with Bailey's ex-fiancé after all. Then Maxine quickly followed saying she had to work on her paper for a class that was due soon.

So I stayed, because I didn't want to leave. I don't know why, but I wanted to stay and drink, and watch the people find their person for the night who won't fix anything but make it seem like they might. The same exact thing I do every weekend. Always looking for someone who will make me feel like everything will be okay, but I know, I know that when I wake up I will feel the exact same as I did before. Lost.

The sudden scraping of the bar stool next to me pulls me out of my thoughts as I turn my head to see a man sit next to me. His light brown hair is filled with snowflakes as he runs a hand through it to get rid of the frozen flecks.

My eyes stay glued on him for some reason even though I know it's rude. Even though I know I should turn away, I don't. I continue to stare at the mystery man before myself. His shoulders are hunched over, and his cheeks stained pink from the cold, but it's the way his eyes move that really capture me. His eyes stay locked on the counter, as if nothing around him matters enough to even glance up, and I knew what that feels like.

The bartender comes over, Luke, who has known me pretty well since freshman year. A small part of me smiles at the memories of me coming in here with my shitty fake ID, and how Luke would always call me out for it. But he knew even if he stamped underage on my hand, it wasn't long before a drink found it's way into my hands or a man on my arm. I can sense Luke's confusion as to why I'm openly staring at this man, but I don't even know. Though I also know I can't stop.

"I can see you staring you know?" the man next to me says as his eyes are still locked on the black granite countertop. "Scotch, neat," he tells the bartender next. His eyes flicker up for just a moment before returning to the empty space before him. Luke's eyes scan over my face for a moment before grabbing the guy his drink.

"Yeah," I respond to the man's comment on my staring. "Pretty sure it's a free country still though," I say with a small shrug pulling at my shoulders.

He flips to face me suddenly. He's attractive though I already knew that from just sitting next to him, but what truly shocks me is his eyes. I could only see where his gaze followed before, but not them specifically, and with them on me now small bursts of tingles explode across my chest. His eyes are a shade of hazel that is so warm it's almost honey-like. No, it's like scotch I realize as Luke slides the man's glass over.

The handsome stranger reaches for his drink and sips on the burning liquid that mimics the way his eyes burn against my skin when they rake over my body.

"So why are you here?" he asks me as he sets his glass with a clink on the counter that once received his attention. But now I do, and I feel short of breath.

I sip on my drink to wet my suddenly dry throat before answering. "Celebrating," I say wryly.

His eyebrows dip together as interest washes through his hazel eyes. "Hmm," his lips pull to the side at my words. "And what would you be celebrating?" he asks. "Alone," he clarifies.

"My friend," I state not elaborating. I'm never usually this curt, but I like the way my short answers draw him in, and the way he watches me. I don't think I ever want his eyes not on me, and just the thought has my body running hot and my pulse jumping wildly.

"And where would this friend be?" he asks as his eyes trail over the lessening crowd in the bar. This is considered a pregame bar that tends to die out rather quickly as the night progresses and they make their way to other pubs throughout the city.

"Back home," I respond just as simply.

"Wow, you are a real talker," he says as sarcasm edges its way through his words.

I scoff. "I don't talk to strangers," I tease back as my eyes narrow in on the man in front of me.

"I can change that," he tells me. "I'm—"

"Nope," I immediately cut him off. "I don't want to know your name," I tell him realizing how odd it sounds to say out loud.

"Why?" he questions as his eyes rake over my face at a loss.

"Because it's more fun this way," I smirk. I honestly can't say why I stopped him from saying his name. He's attractive and can hold a conversation, which is saying a lot from the men I've been pulling lately. But most of all he makes my skin heat with excitement as his warm eyes brush against my bare flesh.

"And why does it need to be fun?" he asks before he downs the rest of his scotch. I can't help but like the fact that he doesn't even wince at the hard liquor.

"Because I'm bored," I say honestly as a loud sigh passes through my teeth.

"Bored with what?" he pushes.

"Everything," I breathe.

He doesn't answer me as he slaps down a few bills onto the sticky bar counter. The bar counter that once held all of his attention until his eyes landed on me. His lips purse as a mumbled sound comes out, but he still says nothing. He stands from his seat as he checks his phone and begins to walk away.

"Bye," I grumble out hating the annoyance that fills me at him leaving without responding. I shouldn't care what that stranger does. Actually I don't care. I straighten my shoulders and refocus my attention on my drink in front of me, and not on the man with hazel eyes.

I suck down the rest of my vodka soda as I begin to gather my things. I guess I should head out now, and the idea of hooking up with anyone tonight doesn't sound as fun as it did an hour ago.

"One more?" Luke asks as he wipes the top of the counter down with a wet rag.

"Nope," I shrug. "Close me out," I tell him.

"What?" he asks taken back. "This early for Hayley Motherfucking Mollgram," he jokes.

I let out a short loud laugh at his nickname he dubbed me back freshman year when I began sneaking into this bar. Though the name use to be yelled at me rather then used in a teasing manner as it is now.

"That's my name don't wear it out," I wink as slide my card across the counter to him.

"I'll be right back," he smiles.

I nod as I set my wristlet in front of me waiting for him to return. My eyes take in the few stragglers left drinking silently sizing them up, but realizing that no one seems interesting enough to drag home, especially this sober. Then unexpectedly my chair is being pushed around and the room becomes a blur. Finally the world stops turning and my gaze lands on eyes the color of burning scotch. "What the hell?" I shout at the guy from before as he fully fills my vision right before his lips meet mine.

Shock and pure confusion merge their way through my veins and wind their way down my heated body. But as his hot lips move against mine not once, not twice, but three times I break. My hands press against his chest and a bolt of want rolls its way through me as I feel his body beneath the palms of my hands. My fingers curl into his skin and my response instantly spurs the guy, whose name I still don't know, into another level.

His hands that were once simply laced in my hair tangle harder as his lips press firmly into mine as if he's trying to brand himself into me, and into my body. The hands that were once holding a small glass of scotch make their way to my hips and push me even closer to his body that is lighting every inch of me on fire.

He pulls back, but not too far as his lips still brush against mine. "Shit," I breathe my eyes remaining shut in fear that this may be a dream.

A small breathy laugh hits my lips and I can feel his mouth turn up in a smirk before he brings them fully back to mine. The taste of him and scotch mix to make me lose every thought and reason that should make me stop. Like the fact that I don't know this man at all, not even his name. Not only am I intoxicated on my own drinks, I'm drunk on this man who I've only met a few moments ago and I don't even know what to think.

My hands clutch onto his shirt curling into his body even more, and an ache fills me harder then ever before and at this point I feel like I might combust. Might burst. Might die, but it would be worth it.

He finally breaks apart from me and my whole body is doused in a bucket of reality. My eyes go wide and my hands drop from his shirt that is now wrinkled from my strong grip.

"What was that for?" I ask my voice coming out raspy. My hand lifts to my lips on their own accord and I love the way they still tingle from his mouth, and are slightly swollen from the pressure. From the heat, and from the need.

He shrugs as a small smile brightens his already handsome face. "Are you still bored?"

I can't even form words so I shake my head.

"Mission accomplished."

With those words he heads out of the bar and out of my life.

Or so I thought.