I’ve made some friends, good ones, the kind who sit in the front row and record all the lectures. A few of them have been asking me to join them for open mic night at one of the local pubs. I’ve graciously declined until today. Weekends are lonely for me, even with all the studying I do. There’s too much time to miss Oliver, especially living in his house and sleeping in his bed. So I’ve accepted their invite and I plan to drink too much wine, piss on Johnny H. on my way home, then drunk dial Oliver to see if he wants to get naked on Skype with me.

It will take more than a few drinks to get me up on stage. Oliver ruined karaoke for me since the Katy Perry-donkey-in-labor comment. It was harsh, especially considering how much I love to sing. I’ll get over it … eventually.

“Flower?”

“Upstairs,” I call from the bathroom, contemplating wearing my hair up or down.

“Whoa, look at you! Hot date?”

I grin pulling out my hair clips, opting to wear it down. “Hardly. You’ll be so proud of me. I’m going out with some friends tonight for open mic night.”

Alex deflates. “You are?”

“Yep.” I apply some lip gloss and rub my lips together.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“What? You’ve been telling me for weeks to get my ass out of here and have some fun … to ‘let my hair down.’ Look…” I point to my hair “…hair down, and I’m going out.”

“Sean’s coming over and I’m making dinner, then we’re going to watch a movie. I was hoping you’d join us.”

Raising a brow, I smirk. “You were?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Hmm, karaoke with my new single friends or third-wheel dinner and a movie with my friend and her fiancé, which will no doubt end in you two making out in front of me through the whole movie? No offense, but I’m going out.”

“What can I do to make you stay?”

“What is your deal? Is there a bomb threat I don’t know about?”

“No.”

“Have you had a premonition about tonight?”

“Not exactly.” She squints and purses her lips.

“Then I’m going out and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

I grab my black heels.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing that.”

I look down at my fitted, red strapless dress that ends just above my knees. “Why? Does it look bad?”

“No, you look like a freaking model. I was surprised when you bought it, since it shows part of your back.”

I turn and look at my back in the mirror. The upper branches reaching toward my shoulders with red and pink buds are visible even with my hair down. I shrug. “I don’t care. Oliver thinks I’m beautiful and since he’s been in my life … I’m starting to believe it too.”

I think Alex has tears in her eyes, but she hides it well with a few rapid blinks. “Come here.” She opens her arms to me and I hug her. “Flower, you’re the most beautiful person I know … inside and out. Go have fun.”

“Thanks, Alex.”

“What bar are you going to?”

“Not sure. Chelsea hasn’t messaged me the info yet.”

“Well, text me when you find out. You know, in case we have to come pick up your drunk ass.”

“Thanks, Mom, I will.”

* * *

The four of us find a table close to the front, just right of the stage. Chelsea, Felicia, and Tess have fake IDs; it never occurred to me that my new freshman friends are two years younger than I am and not of legal drinking age yet.

“Your tat is incredible.” Tess brushes my hair away from my back.

“Thanks.”

“That had to hurt like hell. I chickened out getting a small butterfly on my shoulder,” Felicia says.

“It took several visits to complete. The pain wasn’t too bad.” I spare them the details of the inspiration for the tattoo being the real pain.

“Drinks?” Chelsea stands.

“Whisky sour.”

“Lemon drop.”

Chelsea looks at me. “Sam Adams, thanks.” I hand her a ten.

“Ooo, dibs on the guy with wavy black hair at the table behind us,” Felicia leans in and whispers followed by a giggle.

“Whatever, I’ve already got eyes for backwards ball cap guy by the stage.” Tess stares and bites her lip.

“See anyone that catches your eye, Viv?”

“Not really.” I haven’t told them about Oliver. I’m not sure how to explain our current situation.

“Not really what?” Chelsea hands us our drinks.

“We’re trying to find a guy for Viv. Tess and I have already spotted our prey.” Felicia points out the two guys to Chelsea.

“Nice.” Chelsea nods her head. “I’m keeping my options open. This place is going to be packed in a few hours. I think my guy has yet to enter the building.”

“Maybe he’s coming with Viv’s guy.” Tess and Felicia laugh.

I nurse my beer over the next hour to pace myself. Being the oldest in our group has made me feel like I should be the responsible one too. Chelsea has sung once, but Tess and Felicia are still deciding what they want to sing. I’m too sober to even look at the playlist.

“Viv?” Tess yells over the music. “You have to get on the list. Hurry up and pick a song.”

I sigh, staring at my empty beer bottle. “Okay.” I go get another beer, okay two, and I put my name on the list. By the time I get back to the table, three guys have pulled up chairs and joined our group.

“Viv, this is Mike, Lance, and Troy.” Chelsea introduces us.

The guys all seem polite, so I sit back down and start on my second beer as the roar of the crowd picks up with the start of the next performance. My new friends work their flirt overtime while I make out with my beer bottle. By my third beer, I have a confident buzz going and I decide to quit since my name will be called soon.

My phone vibrates in my purse. I assume it’s Alex checking up on me even though I sent her the location of my whereabouts earlier. It’s a text.

Oliver: Hey, baby. What are you up to tonight?

I focus on the screen and type slowly … My dexterity is a little impaired.

Me: Hi, babe! At a bar with friends.

Oliver: Bar? What kind of bar?

Me: One with people, alcohol, and music. LOL!

Oliver: Not karaoke, hopefully.

Me: Not funny and yes maybe.

Oliver: Yes, funny! Want to sext with me?

Me: Not now … when I get home.

Oliver: Are you refusing me?

“Who are you texting, Viv?” Chelsea giggles. “Your imaginary boyfriend?” The small coed gathering at our table breaks out into laughter. Yes, I’m the loner.

“Yep, my imaginary boyfriend.” I giggle to myself because everything is funny after three beers.

Me: Gotta go. I’m up soon!

I slip my phone back in my purse and try not to think of Oliver and his naughty texts that I’m missing out on.

“I think you’re next, Viv!” Tess squeals.

I start to stand as the announcer comes to the mic, but he doesn’t announce me. He announces some guy. Konrad Rosenberg. Amazing name, I think to myself as I sit back down.

“Hey, I thought you were next?” Felicia asks.

I shrug. “Some jerk probably slipped a twenty to the announcer so he could budge in front of me.”

The piano starts as a voice comes in with the first note.

“Ron Pope’s ‘A Drop in the Ocean.’ I love this song!” Tess jumps up and down in her seat.

My head is a little fuzzy, but the voice is familiar. I squint to see who’s singing it, but they’re standing back behind the corner of the stage and all I see is a shadow.

“Holy shit!” Chelsea says.

“Dibs!” All three of my new friends call as the performer steps into the light.

I think I could faint. It’s been almost eight weeks since I’ve seen him and he’s here. I can’t believe he’s here! To hell with the song, my friends, or the crowd, I stand. “Nope, he’s mine.” Squeezing my way through the crowd, I worm a path to the stage.

Oliver watches me the whole time as he continues to sing. Tears sting my eyes as I get closer. I feel like an army wife running to her husband as he steps off the plane. I know our time apart doesn’t even compare to that, but eight weeks has felt like an eternity without him. I’m almost there and he hands the mic to the announcer while the music continues to play.

“Oli …” I fall into his embrace and hug him with everything I have as he lifts me off my feet.

Tears flow. Lips collide.

The crowd erupts into crazy cheers with lots of whistling and clapping.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He sets me back on my feet and brushes away my tears.

“You’re back.”

He smiles. “Let’s go home. I’m not sharing you tonight.” He steps off the stage and holds out his hand.

I take it and follow him through the crowd. As we pass my table, I tug on him to stop. Grabbing my purse off the chair, I grin at the gaping mouths and jealous smiles aimed at me.

“I’ll explain Monday.” I wink at the girls and follow Oliver. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I fist his shirt and pull him to me as we step out onto the sidewalk.

He kisses me and it’s mind-numbing, shooting stars, and a grand finale of fireworks all at once. I despise the three blocks between us and home, specifically our bed.

“And ruin the surprise?” He rubs his nose against mine.

“I can’t believe you did that in there. Oli, you can seriously sing.”

He interlaces our fingers and leads me down the sidewalk. “Well, one of us should be able to.”

“Oh my gosh! I thought you did that to serenade me, a romantic grand gesture. But you did it to block me from singing!” I punch him in the arm.

He chuckles. “I was serenading you. The fact that we left before you got a chance to sing was just a happy coincidence.”

I pull my hand from his and stomp ahead of him.

“Miss Graham, if you don’t stop strutting your sexy ass like a pendulum in that dress and those shoes, I’m going to have to take you into the alley and show you how desperate I am for you right now.”

My insides melt with his words, and I hope the evidence of that doesn’t start running down my leg since it’s a panty-free night for me. I didn’t want them to get in the way if the freshman initiation pissing opportunity presented itself.

“Sorry, Konrad Rosenberg, your threats need to be more believable.”

“Are you a little tipsy, Vivian? It doesn’t look like you’re walking too straight.”

“No, I’m just artificially confident and chemically relaxed.” I laugh at my own joke. It was a good one; at least after those three beers it sounds funny to me. “Eee!” I squeal as he grabs my waist and pulls me into the alley.

Oliver pins me against the wall with his body, his warm breath heavy on my face. The carnal need in his intense eyes and firm lips evaporates all humor between us. Strong hands slide down my arms and around to my ass. He squeezes it with a sudden jerk toward him. His arousal nudging my abdomen.

“Oli—”

He presses his mouth to mine and our tongues explore with determined strokes. My hands tug the button on his jeans until it’s released. The zipper follows and my hand kneads and strokes him through his briefs as he rocks his pelvis into my touch. He moans into my mouth with deep intensity.

His hands clench my dress, yanking it up once. I hum into his mouth with untamed anticipation. He grips my dress lower and yanks up one more time, completely exposing me from the waist down.

I wait for him to chastise me for my lack of panties, but he doesn’t. His right hand moves mine off his erection. He releases himself and with his left hand he hitches my leg to his waist and thrusts into me.

“Oh God!” I yell, letting my head fall back as his invasion stretches the part of me that’s forgotten the capacity of his touch.

Oli grabs the back of my head and pulls my lips to his again, muting my cries. I grip his hair holding him with just as much need while releasing small whimpers. I’ve missed him so much his touch is almost painful. Our bodies are starving and can’t get close enough—can’t find that release fast enough. He moves in me with the speed and determination of a race horse coming around the last turn. His upward momentum collides with my downward descent, sending a crescendo of pleasure through my body. My mouth goes slack, my standing knee buckles, and he digs all his fingers into my legs slamming me onto him one last time while pressing me to the wall.