America and Shepley appeared beside us. Shepley moved like he’d been watching too many Usher videos. Travis had me near panic with the way he pressed against me. If he used any of those moves on the couch, I could see why so many girls chanced humiliation in the morning.
He cinched his hands around my hips, and I noticed that his expression was different, almost serious. I ran my hands over his flawless chest and six-pack as they stretched and tensed under his tight shirt to the music. I turned my back to him, smiling when he wrapped his arms around my waist. Coupled with the alcohol in my system, when he pulled my body against his, things came to mind that were anything but friendly.
The next song bled into the one we were dancing to, and Travis showed no signs of wanting to return to the bar. The sweat beaded on the back of my neck, and the multi-colored strobe lights made me feel a bit dizzy. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his shoulder. He grabbed my hands and pulled them up and around his neck. His hands ran down my arms, down my ribs, finally returning to my hips. When I felt his lips, and then his tongue against my neck, I pulled away from him.
He chuckled, looking a bit surprised. “What, Pidge?”
My temper flared, making the sharp words I wanted to say stick in my throat. I retreated to the bar and ordered another Corona. Travis took the stool beside me, holding up his finger to order one for himself. As soon as the bartender set the bottle in front of me, I tipped it up and drank half the contents before slamming it to the bar.
“You think that is going to change anyone’s mind about us?” I said, pulling my hair to the side, covering the spot he kissed.
He laughed once. “I don’t give a damn what they think about us.”
I shot him a dirty look and then turned to face forward.
“Pigeon,” he said, touching my arm.
I pulled away from him. “Don’t. I could never get drunk enough to let you get me on that couch.”
His face twisted in anger, but before he could say anything, a dark-haired stunner with pouty lips, enormous blue eyes and far too much cleavage approached him.
“Well. If it isn’t Travis Maddox,” she said, bouncing in all the right places.
He took a drink, and then his eyes locked on mine. “Hey Megan.”
“Introduce me to your girlfriend,” she smiled. I rolled my eyes at how pathetically transparent she was.
Travis tipped his head back to finish his beer, and then slid his empty bottle down the bar. Everyone waiting to order followed it with their eyes until it fell into the trashcan at the end. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
He grabbed Megan’s hand, and she happily traipsed behind him to the dance floor. He all but mauled her for one song, and then another, and another. They were causing a scene with the way she let him grope her, and when he bent her over I turned my back to them.
“You look pissed,” a man said as he sat next to me. “Is that your boyfriend out there?”
“No, he’s just a friend,” I grumbled.
“Well, that’s good. That could have been pretty awkward for you if he was.” He faced the dance floor, shaking his head at the spectacle.
“Tell me about it,” I said, drinking the last of my beer. I barely tasted the last two I had put away, and my teeth were numb.
“Would you like another one?” he asked. I looked over at him and he smiled. “I’m Ethan.”
“Abby,” I said, taking his outstretched hand.
He held up two fingers to the bartender, and I smiled. “Thanks.”
“So you live here?” he asked.
“In Morgan Hall at Eastern.”
“I have an apartment in Hinley.”
“You go to State?” I asked. “What is that...like an hour away? What are you doing over here?”
“I graduated last May. My little sister goes to Eastern. I’m staying with her this week while I apply for jobs.”
“Uh oh…living in the real world, huh?”
Ethan laughed. “And it’s everything they say it is.”
I pulled the gloss out of my pocket and smeared it across my lips, using the mirror lining the wall behind the bar.
“That’s a nice shade,” he said, watching me press my lips together.