Eyes Bright, Uptight {EDITING}

// she asked me if i do this every day, i said "often" //

I simply nodded, forcing a weak smile.

Adam gestured toward the kitchen, where George was standing amongst a small crowd of people. He was wearing a pair of knit trousers that fit him quite nicely, an an Aztek printed sweater.

"Claire!" he shouted, jogging over to me and picking me up in a hug, his hands cupping my ass as he did so.

Whoa. He was probably drunk, but still.

"You look cute as a button," he told me.

"Thank you, please put me down," I giggled.

He honored my request and stood me next to him and his group of friends. I recognized Ross from the club.

"Shit, your friend's fucking fit, mate," Ross let out.

George shot him a look. "Aye!"

Ross shrugged. "Don't get so defensive."

George shot him another, darker look, and Ross laughed.

"I'm Ross, and I'm kind of an asshole. Nice to meet you," he stuck his hand out.

I took it. I liked his honesty. He was funny.

George put his long, tattooed arm around me and continued a conversation with Ross about beats. He was such a nerd, but I felt so cozy and small next to him. It was nice that they were doing most of the talking. Some people mistook my shy personality for me being stuck-up. In reality, it was just the opposite. I always felt I couldn't keep up with a conversation.

I noticed, embarrassingly quickly, that Matty was nowhere to be found. This is what I had wanted, right? So why was I so disappointed?

George and I had downed two whiskey and cokes each, and were reminiscing about our childhood. I couldn't find a seat so he hoisted me up onto the kitchen counter and had his pelvis resting in between my legs.

"What was George like as a boy?" Ross quizzed.

I shrugged and smiled. "Pretty much the same. Tall, friendly, sweet. Sucks his thumb and plays with dolls."

George didn't like to be teased.

"Oh, don't go there with me. Or you'll have to suffer my wrath," he said, raising an eyebrow and finishing his drink.

"Nooo," I said, bracing myself with my hand against his chest.

George started to tickle me lightly and I squealed. Ross looked at us like we were slow kids.

"Christ, get a room," he joked.

"Piss off, Ross. We're just friends," George explained.

Right. Friends.

"Hey, where the hell's Matty?" George asked either Ross or Adam.

Matty. Ya know, that dude who looked at you and got your panties wet? The one with the majestic hair, voice of angel, eyes that fused the pieces of your broken soul back together? Yeah, that one.

"Probably gettin' his dick pulled," Ross shrugged. "Haven't seen him."

George nodded. Matty probably got his dick pulled on the daily. George probably did bi-daily, not because he wasn't as hot, but because he was slightly more selective. Or at least I thought so.

"Booze run," Adam explained.

A cute girl stood next to him, her ashy blonde hair in a fishtail braid, sipping on a drink through a straw and bobbing her head to the music.