Connected (Connections, #1)(4)



Shaking my head at her, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

I walked a little slower so she could keep her shoes on. Aerie said in a much sweeter voice, “Thanks for taking me out. Now, come on. Let’s get moving and have some fun. It’s girls’ night out after all, and I have a broken heart to mend.”

I gave her a little smile as I squeezed her arm. “Sweetheart, I think you started the mending process hours ago!”

Aerie shuffled down the sidewalk to hold her shoes in place, and I just knew this was going to be an interesting night. Aerie, my best friend since freshman year, broke up with her boyfriends like I changed the flavor of my coffee creamer—often.

Aerie was a Type-A personality, but you would never have known this in her drunken state. Her major flaw was her drive for perfection, not just with herself, but also with her boyfriends. When a guy fell short of the perfection she expected, she simply moved on. As was the case with her last boyfriend and she broke up with him yesterday. Tonight she was looking forward to new horizons, and I was looking forward to listening to a new band.





NEXT LIFETIME


What am I going to do

I want you in my life

But I can’t have you for myself

Because I belong to someone else

So I’ll see you in our next lifetime.





We walked through the open door to the USC Campus Bar and Aerie pulled her tail up. “At least they aren’t playing that Halloween crap in here,” she yelled a little too loudly. As my ears adjusted to a more peaceful sound, I heard a velvety soft voice singing an unfamiliar, yet captivating song.

Aerie stopped to put her devil horns on, and I glanced through the large room at all of the familiar faces while trying to get a glimpse of the band on stage. I shouted directly into her ear, “They sound really good. Have you heard them before?”

She was on her toes trying to see over the crowd of people. I laughed at her short stature until her pointy devil horn hit me in the eye. “No, but love their sound,” she responded, still trying to see the stage and almost falling over.

I had been coming here for the last three years to listen to music, experience new bands, and dance. I couldn’t ever remember seeing this bar so crowded. There were so many people around I could barely see the long wooden bar to my right, and with the mass of bodies bumping and grinding on the dance floor, I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the stage behind it.

Looking at Aerie, I asked, “Do you know their name?”

“I think they're called The Wilde Ones,” she hiccupped and laughed. She winked at me as she started to dance her way toward some friends she had just spotted on the dance floor and yelled over her shoulder, “By the way, I love them! Great name and an even greater sound.”

Aerie was like two people in one. Sober Aerie was a perfectly performing machine, with impatience and order ingrained in her life. Drunken Aerie was a sober Aerie with fun and downright craziness mixed in. I’m not sure which one I preferred.

“I’ll get drinks and meet you out there in a bit,” I said to no one since she was already gone. Throngs of people surrounded me as I made my way to the bar. When the bartender acknowledged me, I ordered two beers, one with ice and one without, and tacked on two shots to continue in my quest to help Aerie drown out her misery.

The live music stopped and the typical mix of Halloween songs played throughout the room. I turned my back to the bar and scanned the crowd for Aerie. You would think she would be easy to spot in her red sequin devil costume. She said she was out for vengeance and if her outfit of choice was any indication, she was going to be vindicated.

Looking through the crowd, I didn’t see her anywhere but what I did see was one attractive silhouette, and I was drawn to it. The silhouette was that of a guy. He was still too far away for me to zero in on any specific physical feature. But something . . . no everything about him drew my attention.

I studied the silhouette’s movement and noticed the beauty of his walk; he was captivating and he oozed confidence. He seemed to be relaxed and not in a hurry, like he knew exactly where he was going. This attractive guy was strutting in my direction and as he got closer I was completely mesmerized. Biting my bottom lip, I was unable to focus on anything else but him. My head was still a little foggy from the three beers I had consumed earlier. I was clearly not thinking straight when I made eye contact with him and slowly studied his body from head to toe purposefully.

As the distance between us narrowed, I could see that his physical appearance was just as captivating as his walk. He was alarmingly attractive: long, lean, and muscular but not bulky. He wore a black beanie hat with his light brown hair sticking out here and there. When I looked into his eyes, they simply undid me. Although I couldn’t see their color, the intensity of them was extremely powerful. It was almost as though if I looked into them for too long I might never get out. His eyes aside, the words handsome and gorgeous weren't strong enough adjectives to describe him.

My mind wandered to where it shouldn't. Knowing better than to compare this captivating guy to my boyfriend, I did it anyway. I felt incredibly guilty, but I couldn’t help myself. My boyfriend was all surfer. He was attractive, hot, and sexy with an ego to match. This breathtaking guy was equally as attractive, hot, and sexy, but there was something else—something more. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

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