Page 2 of One-Time Shot
“You do. Pretty girls, party favors, and…a chance to do some team bonding off the freaking ice. Trust me. That shit matters, too.” He checked his vibrating cell and tossed a few bills onto the table. “Sorry, man, I gotta run.”
I frowned, but abrupt departures were very much Ty’s style. He was a big-entrance, big-exit kind of guy. No doubt there was a girl waiting for him somewhere. Or a guy. Fine by me…as long as he’d left enough to cover his part.
Shar delivered our check, pausing to top off my water glass. “Want a soda for the road, sugar?”
“No, thanks.” I flashed a smile and pulled my wallet out, my brain already buzzing in ten new directions.
The physics lecture I’d skipped, the résumé I was supposed to update and send to my student advisor, my empty fridge, Langley’s party, the skinny dude with glasses staring at me…
What the fuck was with this guy?
I narrowed my eyes menacingly, which I’d been told was usually enough to scare anyone. Mr. Khaki and V-Neck Sweater didn’t seem bothered.
He glanced over his shoulder in confusion, his cheeks pinkening as he met my gaze again. Huh, he was cute. Geeky cute. I hooked my forefinger, wordlessly bidding him toward me.
Why? No idea. I didn’t have time to spare. Remember…I still had to get those physics notes and buy some damn eggs.
Yep, lots to do.
Except now the geek was scrambling out of his chair. He adjusted his glasses, straightened his spine, and if I wasn’t mistaken, took a deep cleansing breath before heading my way. Color me intrigued.
He didn’t give hockey fanatic vibes, but I could have been wrong about that. I mean, my eighty-five-year-old grandmother was a rabid Sabres fan. Rabid. She wore her lucky jersey while watching the game and had been known to paint her favorite player’s numbers on her face.
“Hello, I?—”
“Sit,” I interrupted.
“Uh, yes, right, of course.”
He didn’t sit, though. He licked his upper lip, then pierced the bottom one with his front teeth. And that was strangely…hot. Full lips, pink tongue, mossy green eyes, and?—
Shit, he was talking again…I think?He held a hand out—long, tapered smooth fingers, delicate wrists. Was I supposed to shake it or something?
I ignored his hand and motioned for him to take Ty’s seat across from me. He nodded furiously and at the last possible second, tripped and crash-landed into the booth.
“You okay?”
“Oh, yes. Sorry about that.” He chuckled nervously, pushed his computer bag onto the bench beside him…and knocked over my water.
I righted the glass, saving myself from an unplanned ice bath, but the table was drenched. A server descended immediately, removing dishes and wiping the mess away.
Crisis averted, I cocked my head and glowered. “You’ve been staring at me. Was there something you wanted?”
“Help,” he squeaked.
“Huh?”
“Kidding, joking, pulling your leg. Let me start over.” He cleared his throat and licked those damn lips again. “Hello. Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Malcolm Maloney, a grad student in the physics department at the venerable Smithton College. I specialize in…”
Okay, Malcolm. You had me at hello and lost me at physics.
I zoned out, mesmerized by his animated gesturing, melodic voice, and opposing features—sharp chin and soft eyes, straight freckled nose and plush lips. He was even cuter up close, but I didn’t go for geeks. Or guys in general. I mean, yeah, sure…I was bi, but that info wasn’t widely known. Too risky for someone in my position, and I was comfortable enough in the closet.
Yes, that sounded douchey, but the world is a fucked-up place. Am I right?
Back to Malcolm, who—I think–was giving a small presentation on the related properties of energy and motion.Shoot me now.
I held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t understand anything you’re saying. If you want to talk physics, I’m not your guy.”