Never Let Me Go: A StarKid Fanfic

Chapter 2

"Hey, I'll have a...Miller Lite,"

"Draft or bottle?" the bartender asked me. after my little stroll through Bryant Park, I wandered into a bar to drink my guilt away.

"Bottle, please," I said. The bartender surveyed me, and I looked right back at him. He was cute, a light skinned African-American with green eyes.

"Can I see some ID before I give you this?" he said, in an almost playful tone. I grabbed my purse and rifled through my wallet. I slid him my slightly worn ID, my 18-year-old self smirking up at him. I remember the day I took that picture. That was the day the Ian asked me out on our first date.

No, my brain screamed, Don't think, just get your damn drink.

"See, I'm 22," I said, matter-of-factly, "Perfectly legal."

He smiled and handed me the beer. I took the first swig, hoping the cool drink would wash my worries away.

Suddenly a guy sat down a seat from me, his dark curly hair unkempt.

"S'up, Alex, I'll have the usual."

"You got it, Darren," the now named bartender said.

I surveyed the bar, which was sprinkled with Bears fans reeling after the loss to the Packers, and others who were watching the San Francisco/Pittsburgh game. I straightened up and stared at the flat screen mounted on the wall in front of me. The 49ers were winning, but only by one touchdown.

"Oh no no no, Roethlisberger you need to throw the ball not run it!" I said, a little aggravated. I loved football, and my dad was from Pittsburgh, so its like I was programmed to root for the Steelers. 

"Although I find it extremely attractive that a girl like yourself enjoys the great American pastime that is football," the boy named Darren said, turning towards, "I must protest to this display."

I was really ready to give this guy a verbal slap. But it took me half a second more because of his appearance.

He was drop-dead gorgeous. His luscious dark curls, although messy at the moment, were perfectly trimmed. His jawline looked like God had shaped it himself, and his arms were perfectly toned. His nose was adorable. His smirk, although condescending at the time, made me melt. And his eyes. Oh my god, his eyes. Even under the dimmed bar lights, they were the most magnificent feature on his face. Topaz, yes, but so much more than that. Greens and browns and reds speckled and swirled inside those beautiful orbs. I could've made up a painter's palette for all the colors that had the honor to reside in this man's eyes. He made my boring single tone brown eyes look even more ordinary than they already were.I wanted to stare into them forever; but I couldn't. The guy had subliminally insulted my team; he had to be stopped.

"You have a problem with the Steelers?" I asked, acting like I hadn't be mesmerized by him mere seconds before. He laughed at my inquiry. That little fuck.

"Only when they're playing my team," he said, glancing at the TV, "Not that it matters; Kaepernick is on his A-game today."

"That rookie doesn't stand a chance against our defense," I fired.

"Oh really? Then why are we winning?"

"News flash honey, the first half just ended; we have whole 'nother half to open up a can of whoop-ass."

He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. God, was this guy a movie star or something?

"Well, lets make it a challenge," he said, extending his hand, "If my team wins, you buy me and my friends a round of drinks tomorrow at this bar, same time, and I get bragging rights."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what if my team wins?"

"Then you get to kiss me," he said, sending my heart to do a somersault.

"Deal?" He extended his  muscular arm in my direction. Even his hands looked strong.

"Deal," I confirmed, grabbing his hand and shaking it firmly. I didn't want to seem like a weakling.

As he watched the halftime show I surveyed his lips, wondering how kissing him would feel.

I had never prayed so hard for the Steelers to win in my entire life.