Page 7 of Show Me 1

“Does anyone see anything remotely approaching an eligible bachelor under the age of sixty-five? I’m not too picky. Even sixty-five-and-a-half is acceptable, but I’m getting laid tonight.” I scanned the crowd glumly.

“I see lots of cougars, for sure.” Sam glanced around with a grin.

“I don’t want a cougar. I’ll definitely accept a… What’s the male version of a cougar? How do I not know this?”

“A manther.” Sam didn’t miss a beat.

“How do you even know that?” Ever since the shower incident, I’d been more curious about him, noticed myself actually listening to the conversations he had with our other roommates, tucking away any tidbit of information, no matter how pointless it seemed. Like his preference for Miller Lite over Natty Lite or that he didn’t like apple pie or cinnamon. That he didn’t mind the early morning football practices because he’d always been a morning person, which led to me scoping him out for a gearbox because no human college student I’d ever met was a morning person. It had absolutely nothing to do with providing a flimsy excuse to ogle him more.

Sam shrugged. “I pick up on things. I’m not an idiot.” He patted my armrest. “I can be your wingman if you want. I’m a great wingman.”

“You’re not the kind of wingman I need.”

“Why not? I can wingman for guys just as well as I can wingman for girls.”

“I look like a dwarf next to you. Trust me when I say you’re not the ideal wingman when one’s huntingmanthers.I’d be better off—”I blinked my eyes wide, the debate with Sam forgotten. “—hold on.Hold. On.Target acquired. Well dressed, definitely under sixty-five. Nothing in his teeth and not wearing loafers or Dockers. I might be hallucinating.”

Mark glanced over his shoulder and waved to the approaching Adonis before turning back to me. “I worked with John this summer. Want me to introduce you? He’s awesome.”

“Fuck yes,” I hissed in a tone that I hoped was not too desperate. Nate’s amused glance suggested it was. Easy for him to be smug, though, with his own personal sexual Svengali sitting at his side.

Mark made introductions, and John took the seat next to me when Mark got up. Turned out he was a third-year law student, which ticked one more of my boxes. He wasn’t too big, wasn’t too small. Wasn’t too arrogant or shy either, and he had a nice, easy laugh.

“So you’re a third-year, huh?” I said. “Do you think you’ll join the law firm where you and Mark are interning… What’s it called?”

“Preston, Beasley, and Waring.” John smiled. “I hope so. That’s the plan.”

Sam snapped his fingers suddenly and pointed at John, startling me. “I just figured out who you are!” He said it like he was about to pull John’s face off, Scooby-Doo-style, and reveal him to be the crooked innkeeper haunting the overdecorated estate. “You’re a Sigma Alpha. Class of…” Sam squinted. “2014. No…2012.”

“I am, indeed.” John grinned. “Good call.”

They proceeded to exchange their stupid frat handshake.

“I’ve been playing a lot of pool recently. I thought your face was familiar,” Sam said.

“Ahh yeah. I spent many hours in that library. So they’ve still got all the class portraits on the wall?”

“Yep. You need to come by again soon.”

“I should. It’s been a while.”

They toasted each other, instant chums, and a prickle of jealousy ran through me. I supposed that was one benefit of being a frat rat.

“Have you ever really looked at the portrait of class of ’68?” John’s brow lifted in a mischievous arch, one that was supposed to result from me saying something witty.

Sam busted up laughing. “Yes! Every single one of them have the same exact mustache. It’s hilarious.”

I folded my arms over my chest and stared meaningfully at Sam. Wingman, my ass. “Should we switch seats so it’ll be easier for you two to talk?”

“Nah.” Sam grinned cheerily at me. “We’re good.” He turned his attention back to John. “So…wait, were you also the class that nailed all of the chapter room chairs to the ceiling?”

This was fine. I totally enjoyed being a net over which conversation was volleyed back and forth.

John grinned. “Guilty.”

“Oh man, that was awesome.”

They droned on while I moved on to a mojito, and finally Sam wandered off and it was just me and John again.