Never Have I Ever: Punched my Roommate’s V-Card

I closed my door and looked down at the cup in my hand.

It had been sweet of Beck to get a coffee for me and invite me to a party.

Sorry, a mixer.

I put the coffee and the pastry bag on my desk and opened the straw he’d given me. I stabbed the paper straw into the lid, then pulled out my phone.

Finn: what does one wear to a mixer

Anna: he’s alive!

Finn: I’m alive

Anna: you’re going to a mixer? Who are you and what have you done with Finn?

Finn: ha ha ha

Finn: my roommate invited me to go to one

Anna: imma need you to spill the tea NOW

I laughed and dropped down on my bed, taking a sip of my mocha.

In freshman year, Anna had lived in the dorm next to mine. She’d taken me under her wing and introduced me to the wonders of college and being away from my parents and their rules and disappointment.

She was my best friend, and I felt like crap for not texting her the past week.

Finn: he brought me a coffee and asked me to go to a mixer at the student center with him

Anna: wow

Finn: I’m still a bit in shock

Finn: we had a really great talk last week, then nothing until he knocked on my door

Anna: he bought you a coffee and asked you out

Anna: that’s not nothing

Finn: he didn’t ask me out like a date or anything

Anna: are you sure

Finn: positive

Finn: he offered to be my wingman to help me find a guy

Anna: aw

Anna: that was nice of him

Anna: he sounds like he could be a good friend

Finn: I hope so

Finn: he’s nice

Anna: back to your outfit question

Anna: it depends on what kind of guy you want to attract

Finn: ???

Anna: do you want a nice guy, a bad boy, a player, or a jock

Finn: yes

Anna: lol

Anna: then my advice is to wear something nice but not too dressy

Anna: did you bring that blue shirt I gave you?

Finn: I did

Anna: wear that with the black skinny jeans I made you buy last year

Anna: they make your ass look amazing

The jeans in question still had the tags on them. I’d never had the guts or a reason to wear them.

Anna: and do your hair

Anna: the chaotic student look you have is adorkable but it wont help find a dick to play with

Finn: anything else

Anna: yes

Anna: and I cant stress this enough

Anna: TALK TO PEOPLE

Finn: talking is hard

Anna: because you overthink everything

Anna: you cant make friends or meet a guy if you dont talk to people

Finn: ugh

Finn: fine

Anna: gotta go

Anna: send me a pic before you go out so I can approve your look

Finn: yes ma’am

Anna: kisses

I tossed my phone aside and picked up my mocha, which was mostly melted now, and I was able to take a few big gulps without getting brain freeze.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

I liked Beck. And having him with me would make being out easier.

I was an introverted extrovert, as Dex had explained. I was shy and quiet when I was getting used to people, but once I was comfortable with you, I unleashed all my weirdness without a second thought.

I could be a lot to handle, and he wouldn’t be the first to run in the opposite direction when they saw the real me.

Shaking those thoughts out of my head, I stood and went back to my desk, my coffee in hand. I could get a couple of hours of studying in before I had to get ready for the mixer.

Anna: you need to up your selfie game

I grimaced at her message. I’d sent her a full-body mirror pic of my outfit, and she wasn’t wrong.

Anna: use your angels

Finn: angels?

Anna: *angles

Finn: I don’t know my angles

My phone rang. I swiped to answer.

“First, for full-body shots, you need to pose better,” Anna’s voice was loud and commanding, as usual, as she got right to it. “Find your light. That backlit thing is cool for artistic ones, but not when you’re showing off the goods. Soft light and make sure it’s not right in front of you, or your Casper ass is going to glow like a human glow stick.”

I chuckled. She wasn’t wrong.

“Next, the phone in front of your face thing is fine for Grindr, but if you’re sending it to a guy you like, show off those baby blues. Tilt your head, give a little half smile or a smolder.”

“Pretty sure my smolder is broken.”

She laughed. “Maybe stick with a half smile.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. Don’t stand there like you’re guarding a palace. Pop your hip, show a bit of booty. Keep your knees soft and do something with your free hand.”

“Like what?”

“Something that feels flirty and natural. I like the ‘pull up the bottom of your shirt to show off some stomach’ look, especially with low-rise jeans. Suuuuuper sexy.”

“I don’t have abs.”

“You don’t need abs. You’re giving him a hint of how you’d look without your shirt.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. For face selfies, for the love of god and all that is holy, do not take a mugshot pic. The whole angled-down thing is passé, but a bit to the side so you’re kind of peeking over at the camera would work for you. A little half smile or smirk, and remember to put your chin up so you don’t look like you have a turkey neck.”

“I feel like I should be taking notes.”

“You aren’t?”

“Anything else?”

“Dick pics—”

“Nope.”

“Yes.”

“But—”

“Guys are gonna ask. You need to know how to take a good one.”

“Ugh.”

“Now, unless it’s a dude you one hundred percent trust, don’t put your face or any identifying things in it.”

“Obviously.”

“And add a little somethin’ somethin’ to the pic. Your stomach, your hand, something other than just a big peen standing straight up like one of those inflatable waving things on car lots.”

I laughed. Great. Now I had the image of a dick with waving arms bobbing around in my head.

“Again, soft light, and play around with angles to see what way looks best for you. And never take one in the bathroom. The lighting will be horrible, and there’s nothing sexy about seeing a toilet in a dick shot.”

“Ew. Yeah, that would be a big turn-off.”

“Now the most important part. Get out of your head. Don’t dissect the pictures or tear yourself down. Look at it like someone is sending it to you. Would you think it’s hot? If yes, then most likely they will too.”

“This is by far the weirdest conversation we’ve ever had.”

“Remember the time I explained tucking to you? I feel like that was weirder.”

I laughed despite myself.

“I’ll give you that.”

“Now that I’ve educated you in the ways of digital seduction, I can confidently say that you look scrumptious and should have no trouble attracting a guy tonight.”

“Thanks, Anna. Even if that was weird as hell.”

“Anytime. Now go out and slay.”

She ended the call, and I tucked my phone into my pocket.

Knock knock knock.

Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I pulled in a deep breath, then hurried over to the door.

“Hi,” I greeted Beck. Damn, my voice sounded way too breathy.

He looked unfairly handsome in a pair of dark wash jeans that hugged his thick thighs, and an indigo button-up that made his dark hair and eyes pop.

“Hey.” He looked me up and down, a smile on his lips. “You clean up nice.”

I flushed. “Thanks.”

“Ready to go?”

I nodded and pulled my key out of my pocket and locked the door behind me.

“Do you mind walking?” he asked as we made our way down the stairs. “Or we could call an Uber if you prefer.”

“Walking is fine.”

The center was only twenty minutes away, and I walked everywhere anyway.

“Heading out?” Matt asked from the living room, where he was lounging on the couch, his phone in hand.

“Yeah.” Beck paused in the doorway. “You?”

“In a bit.”

“Where’s Jax?”

Jax? Oh, right Matt’s bestie who was always over.

“Coming over in a bit,” Matt said.

“Have fun.”

“You too.”

We started down the street toward school.

“So, what’s your type?” he asked.

You.

“My type?” I repeated so I didn’t actually say that out loud.

“Yeah. It’ll be easier to find you a guy if I know what you like.”

“I’m not that picky. I prefer someone taller than me and bigger, but not huge.”

“Like me?”

“What?” I choked on my spit.

Did he know about my crush?

“My body type.” He shot me a grin. “Or more like Matt?”

“Um, you.”

“I can work with that.”

“What about you? Are you looking to hook up tonight?”

“Not sure.” He shrugged. “Maybe if I meet someone I click with, but I’m not looking.”

“Isn’t that what college is about? Hooking up with a different girl every weekend?”

“Not for me.”

“Oh?”

I let that hang. Would he elaborate? Please let him say more.

“I hook up, but I’m not one of those guys who collect conquests. If I like someone and they’re interested in some fun, then sure. But I don’t go out looking for one-night stands or anything.”

“Is that because of your sisters?”

“Maybe? I don’t like using that as an excuse. I know so many guys who are super protective of their sisters and will do whatever they can to keep guys away from them, but then they go out and use girls like it’s nothing. It’s hypocritical. If you want guys to respect the women you care about, then you should respect all women. Everyone is someone’s daughter or sister, you know?”

“That’s a very mature way to look at things.”

He shrugged again. “Plus, I don’t like empty sex. I prefer to have some sort of connection with someone if I’m going to sleep with them. It doesn’t have to be deep or anything, but messing around for the sake of getting my rocks off doesn’t really do it for me.”

“I think that’s one of the problems I have,” I said quietly. “Anonymous hookups are super common in the gay community, and no hate to guys who do that. It’s just not my thing. I need to be comfortable with someone to let go, and what’s the point of hooking up if I’m not going to fully be present?”

“Are you looking for a boyfriend or a fuck buddy?”

“Either. And I’m not opposed to a one-off. I just need time to feel comfortable with them. I was on Grindr for a while last year, and there was no conversation. It was all dick pics and requests to hook up after three messages. Again, no hate to the guys who are into that, but that’s not me.”

“They have other messaging sites. Ones that aren’t about jumping into bed together.”

“I’m not great with text. I have a hard time reading tone, and I question every word. Did they mean a real thanks or a sarcastic one? Is ‘okay’ the same as ‘ok’ or ‘’k’? That sort of thing.”

We skirted around a slow-moving group of girls in sweats and crew team jackets.

“I can see how that would be hard for some people. I guess I take everything at face value. A thanks is a thanks. And okay, no matter how it’s spelled, is an okay. I might miss their actual meaning, but I assume people mean what they say.”

“I wish my brain worked that way.”

We rounded the corner, and the student center came into view.

Shit, had we talked that whole time?

I’d never fallen into such an easy conversation with anyone other than Anna before.

We took the stairs down to the basement entrance.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Where is this mixer?”

The building was huge, without any signs to show which way to go.

“In the main lounge.”

We made our way through the building, and I halted on the threshold, swallowing hard.

Students were standing around in groups, chatting and laughing.

The atmosphere was chill. Music played, but it was soft and more like background noise.

Beer pong tables had been set up in one corner, but no one was playing. We walked toward the drink table on the other side. It had a sign that said “21 or older only” above it, but no one was there to enforce it.

“They’re not checking IDs?” I asked.

“The business association organized this. They’re supposed to, since this is school property, but it’s pretty much accepted that people are going to drink underage.”

“Are you twenty-one?”

He nodded. “I’m guessing you’re not?”

“No, but I will be in a few months. My birthday is in early January.”

“Mine’s in March. It’s kind of funny that three of my sisters were also born in March. My mom’s a teacher, and she jokes that celebrating the end of the school year is the reason there are six of us.”

I chuckled. “Dex and I are only a week apart. Our parents planned it that way. Apparently, kids born early in the year have more advantages academically because they’re older than their peers and mature faster.”

“That’s a weird reason to plan a pregnancy.”

“Anything to make us successful.”

“So, what’s your poison?” He waved his hand at the various bottles on the table.

“Maybe a rum and Coke?”

“My favorite.”

While he made two of them, I checked out the other students.

Most were dressed like us. A few were in club wear. Others looked like they were on their way to the gym or had just rolled out of bed.

“See anyone who catches your fancy?” Beck handed me my drink.

“Not really.”

“I see some people I know.” He motioned to a group of guys. “A few of them play for your team.”

“Really?”

Not what I had expected from the Mormon missionary look-alikes, ties and all.

“They’re business majors, like me. Only they take the whole ‘dress for the job you want’ thing to another level.”

“Sounds like the ass kissers in my law classes.” I took a sip of my drink. It was perfectly blended, sweet, with a hint of burning that wasn’t overpowering.

“We’ll just say hi, and if you’re not feeling it, rub your chin, and I’ll make an excuse to bail.”

“Who knew having a wingman meant getting to do cool spy shit.”

“Might as well have fun with it.” He took a healthy swallow of his drink. “I think we need some more codes.”

“Okay.” A flutter of happiness shot through me.

I was having too much fun to be nervous about being in a new situation.

“Adjust your collar if you like the guy you’re talking to and want me to help lay some groundwork. And run a hand through your hair if you want me to go away so you can have some alone time.”

“Something tells me I’m going to forget those signals after another one of these.” I held up my cup.

“You’re not a big drinker?”

“Not really. I drink, but not to get drunk. I got absolutely wasted during orientation week freshman year. I spent the next day in bed, wishing I was dead. I can’t even smell tequila without getting sick.”

“Ouch.” He winced. “How many shots did you do?”

“One.”

“One? Was this after you’d already had a few drinks?”

“Almost a full beer.”

He threw his head back and laughed.

But I didn’t mind. I knew he wasn’t laughing at me but at the ridiculousness of the situation.

It was funny. My tolerance for alcohol was better now, but it was still insanely low compared to most people.

“It was my first time drinking!”

“Still. A beer and a single tequila shot is barely enough to get me buzzing.”

“I’m better now. Not by much, mind you.”

“I’ll have to remember to keep you away from the shots.” He chuckled and took a sip.

“Good plan. Shots and I aren’t friends. Although I did Jell-O shots a few times.”

“What did you think of them?”

“Hoovering it out of the cup was awkward as hell. But it was good once I managed to get it in my mouth.”

“Did you just suck on it and hope for the best?”

“Yup. I almost swallowed the whole cup my first time.”

He snickered. “You’re supposed to squeeze the cup to loosen it up. You can use your tongue too if it’s one of those wide and short ones. If it’s a tall one, don’t do that. You’ll look like a cow licking the inside of a bowl.”

I busted out laughing.

“It would have been nice if someone had told me that.”

“It was probably too much fun to watch you try.”

“Fair enough.”

His smile was soft, almost fond.

No.

That was me reading into things because of my stupid crush.

Beck was becoming a friend, hopefully a good one.

“So, the guys.” He motioned toward the group who seemed to be in a deep discussion.

“The blond is Charles, and he’s gay. The brunette with the black tie is Dominic. He’s bi or maybe pan. I’m not quite sure.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m observant.” He shrugged. “After three years in the same program, you get to know people.”

I checked out the guys. Hopefully, I was being subtle.

Charles was cute, and he was the closest to my type. The other one was attractive, but I didn’t feel any flutters or sparks.

“Want to go say hi after I get a refill?” Beck finished his drink.

“Sure.”

He went back to the drink station, and I swirled the dark liquid in my cup.

“Hi,” a perky voice behind me said.

I turned around so fast, some of my drink sloshed over the rim onto my hand.

Three girls were giggling.

“Hi.” Where was Beck when I needed him?

“Are you a friend of Beck’s?” the girl in the middle, a stunning blonde with plush lips and big brown eyes, asked.

“His roommate.”

Were we in the friend category yet? Better to be safe.

“I’ve seen you before,” a girl with long black hair and flawless skin said. “But I don’t know where. Are you a member of Phi Psi?”

“Phi what?”

She laughed. “That answers that.”

I didn’t recognize her, but then again, I wasn’t exactly checking girls out when I was on campus.

“I think we had a class together. Did you take Principles of Macroeconomics with Professor Brandt last year?”

“I did. First semester.”

She snapped her fingers. “That’s where I know you from. How have you been?”

“Good, thanks. How have you been?”

God, could I be any more awkward?

Dex could small talk with anyone and made it look natural as hell. I hadn’t inherited that ability from our parents, who were masters at schmoozing and networking.

“Great. So glad it’s our final year.” She moved a bit closer to me. “You’re not a business major, are you?”

“Econ.”

“Beck!” the third girl, a brunette with a cute pixie cut and thick-framed glasses, exclaimed.

“Hi, Cora.” He stood next to me. “Mina, Jess.” He raised his cup to the other two girls, who dissolved into giggles.

“You going to introduce us to your friend?” Jess, or maybe Mina, asked.

“This is Finn.”

“Hi, Finn. I’m Mina.” The girl with the black hair held out her hand.

I shifted my drink to my left hand to shake it.

“Jess.” The blonde nodded to me.

“Hi.” I smiled. Hopefully, I didn’t look as out of my element as I felt.

“So, Finn.” Mina shifted so she was right next to me, her arm brushing mine. “This your first time at one of these things?”

Shit. How has she known this was my first mixer? Was I that obvious?

My cheeks heated. My brain stuttered, and the ability to talk seemed to leave me.

“He’s a newbie.” Beck clapped me on the shoulder. “Figured I’d introduce him to how we do it in the department.”

Jess giggled as Cora gave me an assessing look.

“Hey, Finn, can I talk to you over there?” Cora cocked her head to the side.

I glanced at Beck, who gave me a perplexed look.

“Um, sure. Excuse me.” I stepped around Mina and followed Cora a few steps to the left.

“So.” She leaned closer to me and dropped her voice. “Not to be forward or anything, but I’m getting the feeling that Mina isn’t your… type.”

My jaw dropped.

She grinned. “I knew it. My gaydar is never wrong.”

“I…”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything. I swing the same way.”

“Oh, so you’re…”

“Gay as fuck? Yup.”

I choked out a laugh. “Same.”

“Why haven’t I seen you at any of the LGBT events around campus?”

“I’ve never really had time to check them out,” I said lamely. No way would I admit that I’d been too shy to go.

“It’s a good place to network and meet people. We’re doing a speed dating event next weekend. If you’re single, that is.”

The idea of speed dating sent a shiver of pure terror through me.

“I am, but that’s not really my thing.”

She gave me another shrewd look. “Well, if you ever get some free time, you should check out some of our events. We sponsor one every weekend. Here.” She handed me her drink and pulled a silver card case out of her back pocket. She flipped it open and shook out a crisp white business card. “Feel free to DM me if you have any questions or want someone to hang out with.”

I traded her drink for the card, which had her social media handles on it.

“You keep business cards on you?” I asked.

My parents handed out cards to pretty much everyone they met, but I’d never seen someone under thirty do the same.

She laughed. “You definitely aren’t a business major. Most of us have them. Makes exchanging info with people easier.”

“Thanks.” I tucked the card into my pocket. “I don’t know how much free time I’ll have in the next while, but I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

Wordlessly, she headed back toward the group.

Beck was laughing, and Jess and Mina looked up at him with hearts in their eyes.

Crap.

I’d known this was a possibility, but I’d hoped I’d have a little more time with him before a pretty girl swept him away.

He caught my eye as Cora and I rejoined the group.

“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us. We were just about to go say hi to some people.”

Jess pouted while Mina raked her eyes up and down my body. “See you around, Finn.”

Wow. That had been blatant.

I had to admire her confidence. I could learn a thing or two about flirting from her.

“See ya.” Cora gave me a little wave, which I returned.

“So Mina…” Beck grinned as the girls headed away and we turned toward the group of guys, who were now deep in an argument.

“Yeah. Too bad she’s not my type.”

“You’re not used to people flirting with you, are you?”

“That obvious?”

“A little. But that shy thing seemed to work for her. I’m sure it’ll hit home for guys too.”

“That’s about my only setting when it comes to flirting. Shy and awkward.”

“Ever heard of the term adorkable?”

“Anna calls me that all the time.”

“Anna?”

“My best friend.”

“It’s a term for a reason. Play it up and have fun with it. No reason to force yourself to be something you’re not.”

We ambled over to the group of guys.

“Wage theft is a misnomer,” Dominic said. “Any employee who won’t put in the extra time to get ahead is dead weight.”

“Exactly.” That was Charles. “People don’t want to prove themselves anymore. They want everything handed to them. My dad says that minimal work deserves minimal pay. There’s a reason his employees are the best of the best.”

Really? These guys thought that forcing people to work for free wasn’t a crime?

Big yikes.

“Beck, settle something for us,” a tall, rail-thin guy with a shock of black hair asked. “Wage theft. Is it theft?”

“Absolutely.”

Charles frowned while the others made various noises of disagreement.

“Employees sign a contract. If a business forces them to work outside of the parameters of their contract, they have to compensate them,” Beck said.

I sipped my drink as the guys argued with Beck. Charles stayed silent and stared at me.

The conversation devolved into one about unskilled labor and undocumented workers, and I tuned them out.

Business talk bored me, and this discussion of ethics, or lack thereof, was no exception.

“What do you think, Beck’s friend?” Charles asked.

Huh? What had they been talking about? “I agree with Beck.”

That seemed like the safest answer.

The other guys began talking among themselves, but Charles stuck out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Charles.”

“Finn.” I shook it.

His grip was strong, and his palm was warm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Finn.” His voice had become lower, a little raspy.

Holy shit. Was he flirting with me?

Beck shot me a sly grin and not-so-subtly took a half step back.

“I noticed you’re out.” Charles nodded to my cup. “Want to come with me to get a refill?”

“Um, sure. Thanks.”

He looked me up and down, heat filling his eyes.

How the hell had he figured out I’d be open to being flirted with after only a few words?

First Cora, now him.

Was I that obvious?

“I haven’t seen you at one of these things before. I’m guessing you’re not in our program.”

“No. I’m taking econ.”

He put his hand on my lower back, steering me around a cluster of students engrossed in an enthusiastic discussion. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you before. There’s a lot of overlap between our majors.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

He didn’t drop his hand as we continued to the drink station.

“I’ve taken some econ classes. Have you had Professor Arthur?”

“Last year.” I nodded. “For Public Economics.”

“I did that class two years ago. It was fascinating.”

“Yeah, it was interesting.”

The class had focused on the government and how it fit into the economy. Fascinating wasn’t the word I would have used for it.

“His book on the subject was an incredible read. Have you read it?”

Was he talking about the textbook? That was the only book of Professor Arthur I knew of.

“I haven’t.”

“I should lend you my copy. I guarantee you’ll never look at the subject the same way again.”

“I’m a pretty slow reader when it comes to nonclass stuff. I’m afraid it would be a long time before you got it back.”

“I don’t mind. It’ll give me an excuse to see you again.”

I stuttered, my brain doing that blank thing again.

“What’s your drink of choice?” He gestured to the bottles on the table.

“Rum and Coke.”

“A popular one, if not a little pedestrian. I prefer Black Russians. Have you tried one?”

“I haven’t.” I glanced over my shoulder. Beck was talking with a blond wearing a vest, matching trousers and a red bow tie.

Thank fuck I’d asked Anna what to wear, otherwise I would have been horribly underdressed.

“Can I make you one?”

“Sure.”

Charles seemed like a nice enough guy, but something about him didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it was how forward he was with his flirting. It made me a bit uncomfortable, but I couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Here you go.” He held out a cup.

“Thanks.”

“We used to use real glass, but some of the less civilized members of the faculty broke a bunch of them at our last event. Now we have to drink out of these.” He lifted the plastic cup, a look of disdain on his face.

“It’s probably safer in the long run,” I said lamely, then sipped my drink.

It tasted like sweet coffee with a hint of burn.

“This is good. You can never go wrong with coffee.”

He grinned. “How about we step over there so we’re not blocking the way.”

I followed him as he moved off to the side.

“I saw you talking to Cora.”

“Oh yeah?” Where was he going with that?

“Did she try to convince you to join her little club?”

“Little club?”

“The LGBT one. She likes to recruit at events like this.”

“Oh, um. Yeah. She mentioned it.”

“Personally, I find a club like that unnecessary and exclusionary. We don’t need groups for minority students. It’s unfair to others.”

“But aren’t you…”

“I am. Just like you are, I presume?”

“Yeah.” I gulped down some of my drink. The sweet coffee taste went down smoothly.

He dropped his gaze to my mouth. “I don’t feel like it needs to be part of my identity. I’m gay, but I don’t consider myself a gay man. I’m just a man who happens to like other men. Men like you.”

Shit. What was the signal Beck had made to tell him I wasn’t into this?

I racked my brain as I gulped down more of my drink so I wouldn’t have to answer.

“Finn.”

Beck. Thank god.

“Beck!” I said a little too loudly. Warmth swept through my chest and up to my cheeks.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“We’re fine.” Charles moved closer to me, his hand on my back again.

Why was my head getting fuzzy? I was a lightweight, but I could usually handle a few drinks before I got to this point.

Beck’s jaw ticked as he stepped in front of me.

Like a moron, I tugged at my collar, then ran a hand through my hair. Then did a weird jazz hands-like move. Was that the code for I don’t want to be here?

“I think we should go.” He took my arm and tugged me away from Charles.

Damn, why weren’t my feet working? I tripped over my feet, but Beck tightened his grip on my arm and kept me upright.

“What’s in there?” Beck took my nearly empty cup from me and sniffed it.

“A dark Russian,” I said with all the confidence of someone on their way to being drunk as a skunk.

Did skunks ever get drunk? And now I had a mental picture of a cartoon skunk stumbling around and randomly spraying everything while clutching a bottle of vodka.

“A Black Russian?” He tossed the cup into a nearby garbage can.

“That’s it!”

“Did you ask for one?”

“Nope. He said they were good. They taste like coffee. Woah—” I swayed on my feet. Beck wrapped his arm around my waist.

“They’re also pure alcohol. It’s one of the strongest drinks you can make.”

“Really? No wonder my feet aren’t my feet anymore.”

“Come on. Let’s get you home.”

“I’m going to Cali?” I blinked at the floor as he dragged me along, my feet moving without me telling them to.

“To the house. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I should have kept a better eye on you. Charles can be a bit of a douche, but I didn’t think he’d do this.”

“Do what?”

“Give you a drink strong enough to knock a linebacker on his ass. How full was the cup?”

“Suuuuuuper full.”

“Fucker.” He adjusted his grip on me, pulling me closer, and led me outside. Oh, the cold breeze was nice.

“Beck?” I stumbled again.

“Yes?”

“I don’t think I can walk home.”

“I know. I’ll get us an Uber.”

He guided me over to a bench and helped me sit down.

I leaned against the back and stared up at the sky.

“I like the stars.”

“It’s a nice night.” He tapped on his phone screen.

“It is. But I really like the stars. I wanted to be an astromoner.”

“An astronomer?” Beck sat down beside me, his shoulder brushing against mine.

He felt good. Warm and solid. I scooted closer to him and put my head on his shoulder.

“Yup. But that wasn’t good enough for Momma and Poppa Donovan. Apparently, NASA isn’t presgi…prostrig…fancy enough.”

He shifted so my neck wasn’t at a weird angle, and put his hand on my thigh.

“No offense, but your parents sound like assholes.”

I giggled. “They can be. But they’re not all terrible. They love us in their own way.”

“Don’t you need a PhD to be an astronomer?”

“Yup.”

“That sounds more prestigious than being a lawyer.”

“Law pays more.” I let out a deep sigh as the world began to tilt.

“What do your parents do?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Mom’s a neuro sturgeon, and Dad’s a coprat liar.” I snickered. “Oops. I meant lawyer. Freudian fall.”

“I think you mean Freudian slip.”

“Probably. My brain feels funny.”

“You’re pretty drunk.”

I giggled.

“Hey, Beck.”

“Yeah?”

“Never have I ever gotten drunk after two drinks.”

“What about orientation week?”

“That was a drink and a shot.” I hiccupped. “Totes diffremt.”

He chuckled. “A technicality.”

“I feel nice.”

“I’m glad. Because you’re going to feel like crap in the morning.”

“Probably.”

“I’m sorry I left you alone with Charles.”

“S’okay,” I slurred. “Not your fault.”

“Still. I should have kept a better eye on you.”

“I’m a big boy. I made my choice.”

A blue sedan pulled up in front of us, and the window lowered.

“Beck?” the driver called.

“That’s us.” He stood, jostling me around as he pulled me to my feet.

“It’s two hundred cash if he pukes.” The driver eyed me warily.

“He won’t!” I said way too loudly. “He’s totes fine!”

Beck folded me into the back of the car and climbed in next to me.

The drive to the house only took a few minutes, and the next thing I knew, I was sitting at the small kitchen table with my head in my hands as Beck puttered around the counters.

I’d gone from drunk to plastered, and the world was spinning.

I didn’t like it.

“Here.”

A plate with a sandwich was pushed in front of me.

My stomach rolled over.

“Eat. It’ll help with the hangover.”

He sat across from me and put a big glass of water next to the plate.

I ate, trying very hard not to choke or puke. It was a grilled cheese and tasty, but my stomach wasn’t all that happy about having food in it.

I drank down half the water.

“No more. My tummy is floating.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

I giggled. How many times had I dreamed about him saying that exact same thing? Only in my fantasies, he was getting in with me, and we were sober. And naked.

I let him lead me upstairs, my head clearing the slightest bit.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night,” I said.

“You didn’t. I forgot how pretentious those things are.” He held out his hand.

I patted my pockets, then gave him my phone.

Chuckling, he put my phone back into my hand. “Can I get your key out of your pants?”

I waggled my eyebrows. “You can go into my pants anytime you want.”

Shit. I hadn’t meant to say that.

Beck didn’t react to my babbling and slipped his hand into my front pocket to get my keys.

The sensation of his hand against my thigh, even through the material of my pocket, made me shiver.

It had been a long time since someone had touched me there.

He hauled me into my room, then plopped me down onto my bed.

I stared at the phone in my hands.

Beck took it and walked around my bed and plugged it in, then put it on my bedside table.

“Pajamas?” he asked as he stood in front of me again.

I flopped back, wriggled up, and pulled them from under my pillow.

“Can you get them on?”

I put them on my face.

“On your body.”

It sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

“Sure.”

I sat up so fast I pitched forward.

Beck caught me before I could face-plant and pushed me back on the bed.

I bounced on the mattress, the room spinning, but he steadied me with his hands on my shoulders.

“Is it okay if I help you?”

I nodded, my eyes on his crotch, which was right in front of me.

“Arms up.”

I lifted them. He pulled my shirt off.

“Lie back. Carefully.”

I moved as slowly as my nonexistent abs would let me.

“Can you undo your pants?”

I fumbled at the fly, my fingers big and clunky.

“No,” I mumbled. A wave of exhaustion washed over me.

“Can I help you with them?”

“You don’t have to keep asping. Asssping. Assss-king.” I had to concentrate to get the word out. “I preciate it, but isss okay.”

I stared at the ceiling. The little swirls in the paint sure looked pretty

“Goddamn, these are tight.” He peeled them down my thighs.

“Anna made me buy them.”

“They look good.” He knelt and tugged them over my knees. “Just hard to get off.”

I snickered. “Never have I ever had a guy take off my pants.”

“No?”

“Nope.” I lifted one arm, my fingers looked weird. “I’ve been nekkid with a guy but had to do it misself.”

“You’ve been naked with a guy, but you’ve never had sex?”

“Nope.” I dropped my hand and grunted when it smacked me in the face. “Stupid hand,” I grumbled.

Beck pulled off my shoes and socks, then tugged my jeans off until I was left in only my briefs.

He helped me into my pajama pants, then pulled me up so he could get my shirt on me.

“Never have I ever had a dude dress me.” I giggled.

“Anyone ever tell you that you talk a lot when you’re drunk?” Beck smiled down at me.

“Anna.” I nodded with my whole body, moving too fast and too far. Beck moved lightning fast and steadied me before I fell.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

He pulled down my sheets and helped me crawl up to the head of my bed.

When I was in place, he pulled the covers up and tucked me in.

“I like you,” I said softly and snuggled into my pillow.

“I like you too.” He ran his hand through my hair, smoothing it off my forehead. “I’m going to leave some water next to your bed. Drink it in the morning, okay?”

“’Kay.” The exhaustion from before hit me like a freight train, and I was asleep before Beck had left my room.