3. Chapter 3
Beth
T here was a tap on my shoulder, one that made both my friends’ eyes widen, and I spun around to see who they were looking at.
“Hey there,” he said. The guy was tall, blonde, and wearing jeans that were way too nice to go with the tie-dye t-shirt he had on.
His crooked smirk carried confidence that he’d probably had for most of his life. Why was he talking to me?
“Um, hi.” I chewed on my bottom lip while he casually looked me over from my head to my toes and nodded with approval I hadn’t been seeking. I looked down at my old overalls and the flannel shirt tied around my waist, wishing I’d put on something different.
“You know, you’re the best vibe in this whole place. I just had to come over and meet you.” He leaned against the counter, resting his left elbow on it and reaching his right hand out toward me. “I’m Benny.”
I stared at his hand for a second before taking it and blushed when he closed his fingers around the back of mine. “It’s nice to meet you, Benny. I’m Beth.”
“Beth,” he repeated. My name sounded different on his lips—more daring than usual for the minister’s daughter. “That’s a beautiful name. What are you drinking, Beth?”
“Oh, nothing,” I said, looking at my empty hands and feeling a little bit silly when he chuckled.
Benny waved the bartender over. “Would you like something?” He looked at the bartender. “I’ll take another cold one and whatever the lady wants.”
“I’m okay, thank you.” The bartender nodded and walked away. Benny furrowed his brow.
“You’re not drinking?”
I shook my head. “I’m not really thirsty.”
“You’re at a bar.” He gave me another scrunched look, like he couldn’t comprehend why someone would put up with the loud music and sweaty crowd if they weren’t here to drink.
I nodded, shrugging one shoulder. “I don’t really drink.”
“What about dancing?” He looked past me at the seating-area-turned-dance floor, tilting his head in a silent suggestion. “Do you dance?”
It only took a brief glance over my shoulder to see my friends’ excited faces before I agreed to dance with him.
You need to lighten up. He put his arm around me, leading me out into the crowd of drunk, dancing students.
I rocked my hips back and forth, following his lead with as little awkwardness as I could manage.
“You’re a good dancer,” he lied. “So are you here with friends, or am I lucky tonight?"
“I’m here with my friends.” I pointed over my shoulder blindly, knowing that Isabella and Amy were still standing close enough to hear our conversation. I could feel their stares. There was no way they would’ve walked away from this.
Benny clicked his tongue like he was disappointed, but he was still smiling. I fidgeted, unsure where to put my hands when he pulled me closer. I settled for resting them on his shoulders, growing nervous when his muscles twitched beneath my fingertips.
“That’s a bummer,” he said, turning us so he could see more clearly where I pointed. Then he winked, and I could practically feel my friends swooning on my behalf. “Maybe I can take you out tomorrow then. If you tell me yes, I’m still lucky tonight.”
“You want to take me out?” I found it hard to believe, even as I danced with him. No guy like Benny had ever tried asking me out before—no guy at all had ever asked me out before. What was the catch?
“A fox like you? Absolutely.” My cheeks warmed beneath his compliment, and I was thankful for the neon lights that probably hid the hue. “So what do you think? I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six?”
“Okay, yeah. Why not?” You need to have stupid-girl-in-college fun! What could be more fun than going out with the complete stranger that hit on me at the bar? The song ended, segueing into another while the butterflies in my stomach continued to dance along.
"Great," he said, smiling. He stopped moving, but it felt like we were still dancing as the crowd continued to move around us. Maybe it was just the sudden nerves or the tequila shot in my gut that made it feel that way. Benny reached into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of cardstock with a number on it. “Hit me on my beeper tomorrow. Here’s the number.”
I took it from him, turning it over in my hands. “Okay, I will.” My voice got caught behind the mixed disbelief and excitement, and I cleared it, thankful for the heavy bassline that covered the sound.
“Tight.” He smiled, slowly backing away and leaving me on the dance floor, already worrying about what I was supposed to wear on our date. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hot stuff.”