CHAPTER ONE
Welcome to Wherever You Are
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The rap music blasting from the over-head speakers was so loud that Emelie could barely hear the orders coming from the night's drunken party-goers. She hurried to keep up with Kiernan, his quick hand sliding eight shots of tequilla across the bar to woman in a too tight blouse. The woman was a Friday night regular, Emelie noticed. Her face was orange behind the golden curls of her hair; either from a bad tan or too much bronzer, Emelie couldn't tell. She caught Kiernan watching the woman's lips as she swallowed her drink, mouthed a flirty thanks in his direction, and tipped him a couple bills. The woman gathered the other glasses, and sauntered over to her group of equally good-looking friends.
The whole show had Emelie rolling her eyes before she could catch what she was doing. It was no surprise that every girl in the club had their eyes on her best friend. The same guy that geeked out over Star Wars in the sixth grade. Emelie remembered him wearing dinosaur footie-pajamas util he was eleven. She wondered if any of the women in the room would have found these facts to be as hilarious as she did. She smiled to herself, hiding her face behind a veil of glossy hair as she turned away from Kiernan to pour strawberries into the blender.
The glittering lights spun around Emelie, highlighting the sweat on her temple. She was running on pure adrenaline. It seemed to be in the air tonight like laughing gas. The club was in full swing now, orders for beer, mixed drinks, and bottles of vodka buzzing.
A glance over her shoulder at the clock told Emelie that her shift was over in five minutes. The neon-lit clock above the bar was an old thing with an image of a flirty pinup, the hour hand forever vibrating between her hip and left arm.
"What are your plans tonight?" That was Kiernan, reaching over her chest to grab an empty glass.
"I have none." A usual reply from Emelie whenever Kiernan asked if she had plans, which was every night. Her nightly plans have been the same for some time now, and Kiernan knew that. Emelie often thought that he liked to ask because it made her admit to being boring and alone. Lately, Kiernan has been so persistent on setting her up on dates with his jock friends. The guys that he played soccer with, the guys at his gym, the guys he gambled over sports games with.
Kiernan's reply was cut off by the DJ announcing the next song with rehearsed excitement. Emelie moved across the floor, her boots clipping with every long-legged stride. She was ready to head home. There was leftover shrimp pasta in the fridge and a new episode of Criminal Minds on the DVR that she couldn't wait to get to.
Their replacements for the night entered the back of the bar, quickly taking over the drink orders. Emelie gathered a couple of empty glasses and slipped past Daniel toward the sink.
"It's a busy night, I see." That was Daniel, talking to either Kiernan or Emelie - either way, she didn't care. Her shift was over, and she was never fond of her coworkers anyway. Actually, she wasn't fond of anyone except for Kiernan.
Kiernan followed her through a door that read EMPLOYEES ONLY where they both hung their aprons in lockers and signed out on the computer.
The back room was quiet. Emelie could hear her heart in her chest and the tap of her boot against the floor. She slumped back in a recliner, watching Kiernan search his locker for a bottle of water.
"What about you?" she asked.
"What?" Finding nothing, Kiernan shut the locker and came to sit on the arm of the recliner. His elbow was inches away from Emelie's throat.
"Do you have any plans?
"Not tonight, Em. Unless you're in the mood for coffee?" He looked over at her with glittering eyes. His green eyes seemed neon in the dimly-lit room.
"I could go for a drink," she said, and jumped up from her seat. "You're paying."
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"We could have interviews." Kiernan told Emelie later at Cafe Lauran. The pressure to get a roommate had been creeping on them lately. Rent in New York was high, and two paychecks from the nightlife industry hardly covered it. "It is important that you're comfortable with the new guy afterall."
Emelie popped the tab on her can of coke. She was not comfortable with the idea of a stranger living in her space. She had known Kiernan since childhood, and the agreement to move in with him was one that required a lot of difficulty from both ends. Kiernan isn't an easy guy to live with. Emelie couldn't possibly count the number of times that she has created a chore chart, only for it to be ignored and vandalized by tasteless doodles. Overall, living with Kiernan was like living with a frat boy. And the only person besides Emelie that would actually care to live with a frat boy was an actual frat boy. Emelie couldn't handle two suborn jackasses. "What makes you think it'll be a guy?" she asked, a smug grin on her face.
"Well," he started. "Imagine if we chose a woman to live with us."
Emelie pondered the outcome, sipping from her coke can. Emelie never quite got along with other women. It was the fact that the lot of them seemed more interested in parties and the Kardashians than anything else. Now, Emelie realized that the twenty-one year old party girl was a sterotype, but she saw it every night at the bar. Sterotype or not, Emelie was not ready to welcome it into her home.
"Don't you think things would be a little weird? I don't want some girl living in the room beside mine and accidentally open the bathroom door on me."
"Well what if we did choose a guy for a roommate? Maybe I'll open the bathroom door and creep on him."
Kiernan snorted. "I don't think that sounds like you."
"Okay, so maybe it doesn't, but we could find a girl that doesn't drool over you. It's not impossible. Look at me for instance."
"Right," Kiernan nodded. "I just think it's unlikely."
Emelie was rolling her eyes before he could finish winking at the barista that had been staring at them from across the room.
