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“Before we begin our set tonight, I just want to issue a little public service announcement on behalf of our beloved university,” he drawled sarcastically into the mic. Then, looking down directly at me, he continued, “Apparently the fire hydrants have been really acting up today, so watch where you step as you stumble home tonight.”

  The audience laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. I’m not sure why they did, since it wouldn’t have made sense to anyone in the club except Lexi and me. Half of them were probably too drunk to notice, and the other half were undoubtedly too busy picturing Finn naked to comprehend his words.

  As Finn laughed into the mic at his own joke, I glared up at him. He sent an infuriating wink back at me before turning to the crowd and launching into an incredibly energetic set.

  “Well,” Lexi said, gulping. “He definitely noticed us.”

  “Crap.”

  “Do you want to leave?”

  Yes, I desperately wanted to leave. I had no desire to stay here and be mocked, for the second time today, by an egotistical jackass. But I was sure that was exactly what he was expecting me to do – run home, too embarrassed by his comments to stay at Styx.

  Well, I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of being right, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to let him chase me away. Plus, if I left, Lexi’s night would be ruined too. I just wouldn’t make eye contact with him again, I resolved. It would be fine.

  “No. Screw him, we’re staying. Maybe just not, um, so close to the stage,” I responded, bracing my shoulders and quickly downing the remainder of my drink. “And I’m definitely going to need another round.”

  “That can be arranged,” Lexi smirked, grabbing my hand and tugging me in the direction of the bar.

  We maneuvered our way out of the crowd, which was now writhing along in harmony with Finn’s voice. To my surprise, he actually sounded great covering one of my favorite Dave Matthews songs, his raspy voice complementing the lyrics perfectly.

  “Tyler looks so cute back there behind his drums. And there’s nothing bad about a man who knows how to use his hands like that,” Lexi sighed in adoration as we reached the bar, angling her body to look back at the stage. “Such dexterity.”

  “This morning you were desperately in love with Finn,” I reminded her, ordering us another round.

  “Ugh, lead singers are so egotistical. They just want to talk about themselves all the time. Who does that?” she wondered.

  “Oh, I can think of a few people,” I laughed, raising an eyebrow at her.

  “Shut up! I do not talk about myself all the time. And that’s beside the point! This morning he was beyond rude to me. He actually snatched my phone right out of my hand!”

  I continued to chuckle, turning to accept our drinks from the bartender. Holding out a ten, I looked at him questioningly when he didn’t take it from my hand.

  “These are on the house,” he said, smiling at me.

  “Oh, thanks,” I replied, surprised at the gesture. I took the drinks and passed one to Lexi. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but I wanted to. I’m Tim, by the way.” He held his hand out for me to shake. He was good-looking – definitely cute enough to distract me from my life for a few hours. Maybe I’d let him take me home when the bar closed.

  “Brooklyn,” I responded, placing my hand in his.

  “Like the city?”

  “No, they actually named the city after me,” I joked, rolling my eyes.

  “Wait,” he said, clearly confused. “Are you serious? Is it, like, a family name or something?”

  “Thanks for the drink, Tim,” I said, removing my hand from his grasp and trying desperately to keep a straight face.

  The giggles finally burst out as I walked away from the bar, Lexi in tow. She broke away from her Tyler-induced fangirl adoration long enough to look down at me.

  “What’s so funny? And why aren’t you back there flirting with that bartender? He was cute and you totally could’ve milked him for free drinks all night.”

  “He was dumb as a doorpost, Lex.”

  “Your standards are way too high,” she complained.

  “Lexi, he thought I was serious when I told him a well-known historical borough of New York City is named after me, not vice versa.”

  “Okay, so maybe he’s not the brightest bulb in the box, but it’s not like you’re looking for a relationship anyway,” she reminded me, fully aware of my dating policies.

  “True, but I like them to have at least above a fourth grade vocabulary and reading level if I’m going to have to spend any amount of time with them.”

  “That’s probably a good benchmark,” Lexi noted, giggling.

  By this time we’d made our way back to the dance floor, a good distance from the stage but still close enough for Lexi to shamelessly ogle Tyler. The set was lively and upbeat, a mix of well-known cover songs and some unknown stuff that I assumed were their originals. Soon, our alcohol had kicked in and we were dancing wildly with the rest of the crowd, mouthing the words along with Finn as he crooned into the mic.

  “Craaaaash into me,” he sang.

  “Craaaaash into me,” the crowd echoed.

  I looked up from dancing for the first time, taking in the sight of the stage, and immediately felt Finn’s weighty stare on me. My eyes locked with his across the sea of people and the breath caught in my throat.

  He was attractive, and he knew it. Worse, there was a heartless edge to him that told me he used his face as a weapon, bending the world to his will one sorority girl at a time. It almost hurt to look at him, like staring directly at a solar eclipse – something I knew I shouldn't watch, that could potentially damage me in the long run, but was so beautiful that I couldn't quite tear my eyes away. In that moment, it seemed like he was singing only to me; everyone else faded away as I became enthralled by his eyes, the lyrics, the deep rasp of his voice.

  Damn it, he was good. No wonder the sorostitutes didn’t stand a chance.

  “Brooklyn! Hello! Come back to earth, girl,” Lexi laughed, pulling me out of my reverie.

  “Sorry,” I said, forcing a smile, “I must be drunker than I thought.”

  “Well, that just means it’s time for another round!” Lexi exclaimed, heading off in the direction of the bar before I could protest.

  The song ended just as we reached the bar. Over the appreciative roar of the crowd I faintly heard Finn announce that the band was taking a quick break. Tim immediately noticed our return and walked toward us, smiling and ignoring the other girls who were trying to place drink orders.

  “Back again?” he said, grinning as if I’d come solely to visit him, rather than get a refill. Ah yes, Tim, my decision to return was based on an uncontrollable need to see you again. The plethora of alcohol bottles lining the shelves behind you had absolutely nothing to do with it.

  “We need another round,” I said, playing along and plastering on a smile. “Two shots of tequila please, with salt and limes if you’ve got ‘em.”

  “Coming right up, babe.”

  Babe? Really? There were few things I hated more than pet names. I mentally gagged before turning to look at Lexi.

  “How does my hair look? Is it too frizzy?” she whispered quickly.

  “It’s perfect, as always,” I said, briefly scanning her red bob. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because Tyler is walking right toward us. Don’t look, idiot!” She scolded, smacking my upper arm when I peered over her shoulder to spot the approaching drummer.

  “Jeeze, calm down, Lex,” I said, rubbing my arm. “You didn’t have to hit me so hard!”

  Lexi ignored me, suddenly throwing her head back and laughing hysterically in an attempt to grab Tyler’s attention. Her loud, albeit false, laughter succeeded in drawing his eyes, and he immediately beelined toward us.

  “Lexi, you made it,” he smiled, evidently happy to see her.

  “Oh, yeah, I mean, Brooklyn wanted to go out so I said I’d c
ome,” she shrugged, happily throwing me under the bus in her attempts to appear nonchalant. Tyler’s gaze shifted over to me.

  “You’re Brooklyn, I assume?” Tyler asked.

  “Guilty,” I said. “And you are?”

  As if Lexi hasn't gushed about you ad-nauseam for the past five hours.

  “Tyler,” he said. “I’m in the band. Drums.”

  Tim had finally returned with lime slices and a salt shaker, saving me from making any small talk. He poured out four shots instead of the two I’d requested, lining them up in front of us.

  “Go big or go home, ladies,” he grinned in challenge.

  “Tim, we really only wanted the one round,” I said, peeved that he was either A) trying to get us drunk or B) incapable of following a simple drink order.

  “Oh, come on,” he said, “Don’t be such a pussy.”

  Oh, no. He did not just call me a pussy.

  I grabbed my first shot, throwing it back and chasing it quickly with one of the lime slices. Placing the empty glass upside down on the bar, I reached for the other shot, fully prepared to throw it in Tim’s cocky face. I’d endured more than enough of his bullshit for one night.

  As my fingers grazed the shot glass, a hand launched over my shoulder and plucked it from my grasp. I watched, stunned, as the hand carried the tequila around me and out of sight. Confused and slightly pissed that my drink-throwing plans had been undermined, I spun around to confront the shot-thief.

  Oh, perfect. This night just keeps improving.

  I glared as Finn threw back my tequila. He winced and leaned forward to grab a slice of lime off the bar, completely invading my personal space with his reach. His chest grazed mine as he placed the empty shot glass and lime rind back on the countertop.

  “Well, that certainly wasn’t Patrón,” he complained, still standing far too close for my liking.

  “That was my shot!” I said, shocked at his audacity.

  “There are two more sitting right there, from what I can see,” he noted indifferently.

  “Those are Lexi’s! And that isn’t exactly my point, here.”

  “It doesn’t really look like Lexi is interested in them. In fact, she’s a bit preoccupied at the moment.” He jerked his head to the side, toward Lexi and Tyler, who were busy making out a few feet away.

  “Jesus, that was fast,” I muttered.

  Finn laughed and I felt it rumble through his chest, which was still pressed against mine. Placing both hands on his midsection I pushed hard, trying to shift him away from me. He didn’t budge, even when I put considerable weight behind the shove.

  “Back off!” I snapped, exasperated by my inability to move him. “This isn't funny.”

  “Fine, fine,” he chuckled, putting both hands up in a submissive gesture and taking a step back. “It’s not my fault you’re such a shrimp.”

  “A shrimp? What is this, the first grade?” Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the bar and reached for another tequila shot.

  “Are you always so friendly, or am I a special case?” he asked sarcastically.

  “What can I say, egotistical jerks really bring out the best in me.”

  “Ouch, that hurts,” he drawled, moving up next to me at the bar and grabbing the other shot glass. “You know, I’m only a jerk because I’ve been hiding my deep emotional pain. You want to come back to my place and hear about it after the show? I can open up to you, cry on your shoulder, and then afterwards you can comfort me. Preferably naked.”

  “Does this shit ever actually work for you?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Do girls really fall for the emotionally-damaged-jackass ploy?”

  “Usually,” he laughed, completely unashamed by his methods. “My dashing good looks and endless charm don’t hurt either.”

  “Charm?” I snorted, “HA!”

  “I am, in fact, very charming,” he insisted. “Most of the time.”

  “So I’m just – what did you call it? – a special case, then?” I laughed, preparing to throw back my shot.

  “Wait, don’t you want some salt for that? I’ll let you lick it off my hand and everything.”

  “Pass. Who knows where those hands have been?” I grimaced, throwing my head back and letting the tequila burn a path down my throat. A slow warmth was beginning to spread through my body, swirling out from my stomach to fill each limb.

  Finn burst into laughter at my comment.

  “You’re funny,” he said, still chuckling, “And you can hold your own. We’re going to be great friends, I can tell.”

  “Friends? I don’t even like you.”

  “Yes you do,” he scoffed, tossing back his tequila. “Everyone likes me.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  “So much sass in such a very small package,” he laughed, looking down at me.

  “Speaking of very small packages,” I said, glancing at his belt buckle suggestively, “Don’t you have a set to finish?”

  Ignoring my insinuation, Finn once again leaned forward into my space. I immediately moved away, until my upper back brushed against the bar. His eyes traveled leisurely down the length of my body and then back up to meet mine. Reaching out to touch my temple, he gently traced a finger over the now-concealed bruise.

  “Brooklyn,” he whispered, his face inches from mine.

  “What?” He was unnervingly close, leaving me no room to move away.

  “You still owe me that t-shirt,” he said grinning broadly, his demeanor switching from smoldering to playful in less than a second.

  “You want me to get you a t-shirt for your own band? You can get a new one whenever you want! There’s no way in hell I’m paying for it,” I growled. “And you just drank two of my shots. So we’re even.”

  “You didn’t even pay for those shots,” he noted. “So technically—”

  “Oh, just shut up.”

  He laughed, turning away from me and taking a few steps toward the entwined form that was Lexi and Tyler.

  “Yo, Ty! We’ve got a set to finish man,” he called. “Break’s over.”

  Tyler broke away from Lexi and shot a lengthy glare in Finn’s direction, finally turning back to whisper something in her ear. Whatever it was had her beaming brightly. She gave him a final, lingering kiss before he walked away.

  “Oh, and Brooklyn,” Finn called out to me as he followed Tyler to the stage, ignoring the desperate girls flocking around him. “Why don’t you get yourself an Apiphobic Treason shirt and wear it all day tomorrow to commemorate our new friendship. Then we can call it even.”

  I flipped him off in response. He laughed – as usual, he was completely unaffected by my disdain – shaking his head back and forth as he walked away.

  Lexi wandered over, still slightly flushed from her blatant PDA session.

  “Well, you two looked…friendly,” I laughed.

  “Oh. My. God.” Lexi whispered, a goofy grin spreading across her face. “I think I’m in love.”

  “Lexi, you’ve known the boy for less than 24 hours,” I noted.

  “Time didn’t matter to Romeo and Juliet,” she sighed dreamily. “They only knew each other a few days.”

  “Yes, and look how that turned out -- they both ended up dead. Have we learned nothing from history?” I asked incredulously.

  “You’re such a cynic, Brooke,” she said, “One day, someone will break down all those walls you’ve surrounded yourself with and worm his way into your heart. Then you’ll understand.”

  I chose to ignore that comment. Clearly, Lexi was now a certified love guru. By this point, the band members had regrouped onstage and were preparing to finish their set. I welcomed the distraction, glad for a brief respite in what I was sure to be a night of endless, lovesick Tyler-worship.

  “Can we go home now?” I asked.

  “What? No! We have to stay for the end of the set, Brooke. Plus, Tyler said he’d see me after the show.”

  At this point, I was too tired to argue with her. Last night’s lack
of sleep was finally catching up to me, as were those final two shots. I grabbed her hand and led her back to the dance floor, maneuvering past several drunken couples shamelessly hooking up against the club walls.

  After pulling us into the heart of the throng, Lexi and I began to dance. Within minutes, two cookie-cutter blonde frat boys had joined us. Mine – either Jason or James, it was hard to hear over the music – snaked one arm around my waist and pulled my body flush against his, grinding his hips into mine. He was cute enough, but I wasn’t in the mood to be mauled on the dance floor tonight.

  I looked at Lexi with wide eyes, signaling for her intervention. Her eyes flared with understanding and she moved away from her own frat boy, grabbed my hand, and pulled me from Jason-James’ grasp. Quickly leading me toward the stage, Lexi tossed a parting wink and goodbye wave over her shoulder in the boys’ direction.

  “Thanks,” I said when we were safely hidden from their view.

  “Don’t thank me, it’s in the wing-woman job description,” she said, looping one arm around me. “I’m so happy we came tonight.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “Aren’t you? What were you and Finn talking about at the bar?”

  “Um, mostly we just insulted one another,” I said, “I’m surprised you came up for air long enough to notice.”

  “Very funny,” Lexi muttered.

  The rest of the set flew by. I was feeling the full effects of the tequila, and everything was slightly fuzzy around the edges. Before I knew it, Lexi was tugging on my arm, waving a hand in front of my face to capture my attention.

  “Brooklyn! How drunk are you?” She looked sternly down at me, hands planted firmly on her hips. “We’re leaving now, the set’s over. Come on,” she ordered.

  I trailed behind her, one hand loosely clasped in hers, and we were carried along with the crowd as they poured out the club doors and into the night.

  “Come on, drunky,” Lexi chided as we cleared the exit, leading me around a corner and down a dim alley between buildings.

  A few yards into the alley, a side exit door opened into the narrow passageway. Tyler and the other band members were laughing as they walked outside, lugging instruments and stereo equipment into a waiting van.