Deborah of the Forsaken

The Void

Lord, he's goodlooking.

I bit my lip and eyed him unashamedly. Granted, he only had eyes for the drink in front of him, but still.

Father have mercy. I am definitely going to sin.

The definition of tall dark and handsome, he sat in the corner of the bar, his expression broody and glum. His jeans fit him perfectly and his shoulders were broad, stretching the leather jacket when he moved. Black hair with a slight wave framed an impossibly gorgeous face, made even more striking by two electric blue eyes. He looked dangerous as hell. I'd never seen a man who looked the way he did.

28? I mused to myself trying to guess his age. I'll have to find out.

My girlfriends came in behind me through the doors and dragged me to the opposite end of the bar to a group of hipster-looking guys our age.

I hate hipsters, I groaned in my head, plastering a fake smile on my face and put a deliberate flirt in my voice. No guy is as willing to spend his money on a girl as a guy who thinks he's got a piece of ass for the night.

I was too intelligent for this crap but hey, I'd hid enough behind my books and my bedroom door to warrant one night out as someone completely different than who I actually was. I deserved to be young tonight.

I didn't have to look up to know he was looking at me. His eyes bore into my back and I had to physically resist the urge to turn around. A faint blush fanned into my cheeks and I swiftly collected my drink from the bar to help cool me down. When I finally lifted my eyes, ready to face that intense gaze, he was gone.

A deeper disappointment than I'd ever felt floored me. And so I did the only thing I could think to do and flung myself completely at the sexy hipster closest to me, who was only too happy to put his arm around my waist.

I was by no means stunning or gorgeous in my own estimation and did not win the genetic lottery like some of my girlfriends. I'd always wished to be as tanned and dark haired as some of the girls I knew, but my aquamarine eyes and blonde hair suited me. I possessed ivory white skin instead of the olive tone I so desperately wanted and let's just say suncreen was my best friend. But when I walked into a room I knew people turned to look at me. I worked with what I had, and I worked it well.

I pulled Lily to the dancefloor when I couldn't handle anymore of the bullshit these guys talked about, always circling back to the same damn topics of video games and programming nonsense.

Lily grabbed my hand. "What's up with you?" She yelled into my ear over the music.

Shrugging it off, I continued to dance. I wanted to leave. If I'd been there with my own car I would have.

It had been a few hours since we'd arrived and my friends decided it was time to move on to the next place. Using the term friends loosely, I knew they hated me in reality, but just for tonight I chose to overlook that damning fact.

"The vibe in here is going sour," Michelle slurred and I agreed quietly from the back seat.

The club we hit next was swamped. We had to push our way to the bar for drinks through a dense crowd, swirling cigarette smoke hanging thick in the air around us.

A large, warm hand settled on the small of my back, electricity zinging through my body at the touch. I didn't have to turn around to know it was him.