Melissa was ecstatic, years of study and hard work had finally paid off. She just handed in her dissertation, after 8 years of sacrifice, she will be Dr. Melissa Moore PHD. That is after her dissertation presentation next Wednesday. Tonight was Friday and she was going to celebrate! Celebrating was not something she did often, free time was a dream and living on student loans did not leave a lot of funds for partying.
Melissa enters the pulsing club, consciously tugging on her snug, short jean skirt, apparently, she had enough money to eat a little too much since the last time she wore this outfit, searching for her roommates, Kristy and Stacey, in the crowd. Not seeing either, Melissa heads for the bar to get a drink. Squeezing in where she can she tries to get the bartender’s attention. Wishing she had of worn a lower cut shirt, hey, she considered herself a feminist but she was not opposed to using what god gave her to get what she wanted. On her second attempt, she waves her money in the air as the bartender continues to walk by. She hears a loud whistle to her left and looks over to the caveman who would do such a thing inside, ready to give him the stink eye, when suddenly all thought leaves her.
Tight black t-shirt pulled taunt over what had to be at least a 6 pack, biceps nearly bursting the seams, Melissa’s eyes traveled down. Sweet baby Jesus, thighs were straining tightly against the black jeans that hugged his lower half. Definitely a soccer player, maybe rugby. Suddenly, the clearing of a throat breaks her from her perusal of this fine specimen. Shaking her head, she starts to look up only to feel a warm breath in her ear, “he’s waiting for your order”, the hot husky voice whisper-shouts, sending a chill down her spine. Pulling her head back, she is met by the deepest blue eyes she has ever encountered. Noticing a slight wrinkling around those navy pools of heaven, Melissa pulls back as she hears a chuckle. “The Bartender, I got his attention for you and now he is waiting for your order.”
Melissa quickly looks away and tells the bartender what she would like. “A Corona girl eh? I would have pegged you for a cocktail drinker.” The stranger next to her says. Melissa, unable to resist the hypnotic deep voice looks his way again. Blushing slightly, she can’t help but remember her earlier perusal of his fine body and decides its best if she looks above the chest only. Yah, that didn’t work out as hoped, if anything the package is even finer above than below.
Broad shoulders, strong neck and chiseled chin covered in a dark 5 O’clock shadow, not thick enough yet to disguise that sexier than hell chin dimple. Up to pronounced cheekbones, those bedroom eyes and a head of thick, wavy brown hair, streaked with stands of red and blond. He is speaking again and Melissa looks at his mouth as she strains to hear him over the music and conversations. Damn, those lips, Melissa licks hers as she wonders what they would taste like. It is then that she notices the spreading smirk across his face before it breaks out into an all-out smile.
Feeling her face ablaze this time Melissa gives herself a good shake and speaks over his shoulder, “thank you but I could have managed to order my own drink”. What the hell? That came out a lot bitchier than intended, Melissa never speaks that way to anyone. But there is just something about this guy, he has thrown her off. She was caught drooling over him for the love of God! How embarrassing. Hoping the floor would open and swallow her whole, she looks forward as the bartender returns with her order. Just as she pays him, she hears giggling, turning she finds Kristy directly behind her.
“Hey girl, it’s about time you showed,” Kristy grabs her into a tight hug. “Stacey is saving our table”, she looks appreciatively at the attention grabber to my right, “unless you want to stay here of course”.
This is it; I think, she found her admirer for the night. At 5’9”, legs like a giraffe and a double D cup, Kristy always gets her man and a man never passes her over for me, or any other woman in the room. I look over and am shocked to see him gazing at me, it’s like he doesn’t ever see her standing there. What is wrong with him? This will just not do for Kristy, she takes a deep breath, sticking her chest out even further, reaches her hand out and speaks to him, “Hi, I’m Kristy. And what might your name be?”, she asked as she bats her eyelashes at him.
Paying Kristy no attention whatsoever, the stranger, still holding Melissa’s gaze, replies, “Jeremy,” reaching out his hand to Melissa he asks, “and who might you be?”
What the hell is happening here? Melissa asks herself, is this some type of joke? She glances around to see if there are perhaps cameras aimed in her direction. No man has ever ignored Kristy for her. Five inches shorter, 20 pounds heavier and a C cup on a good day, Melissa was a wall flower compared to her friend. Stunned, she simply stands there unable to reply.
“This is Melissa, she doesn’t get out much, “Kristy giggles. Melissa visibly cringes at this remark and deepens her already red shade. As Melissa tugs on her arm, Kristy addresses Jeremy again, “come visit our table later if you are not meeting up with anyone. We are up the dance floor, on the right side. I’ll save you a dance.” She blows him a kiss as they turn to go to their table.
With a deep sigh, Melissa follows Kristy to their table, feeling sorrow for having to leave Jeremy behind but more so at the fact that I wouldn’t have the nerve to do anything about it anyway. One last glance over her shoulder and he is still looking her way, he smiles and tips his glass in her direction. Melissa catches herself just as she begins to stumble over her own feet. Damn heels, it had nothing to do with those intense blue eyes, absolutely nothing.
