“Are you nervous?” Devin leaned against the hotel room door that he’d just shut and looked at me with those amazing green eyes.
“A little.” A lot actually, but the strange part was that I still desperately wanted to go through with it. Twenty-one felt too old to still be a virgin and I didn’t have any other prospects. And Devin Roarke! Holy cow. I couldn’t have ordered up anyone more perfect. Funny. Sweet. Sexy as sin. Rich. Not that I’d have any of him after tonight, but I’d entered fairy tale-ville the minute he said he’d meet me to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.
“How about some champagne? Something as momentous as losing your virginity deserves champagne.” He strode toward the table that held a bucket of ice with champagne in it. It was a testament to how quickly rich people could arrange what they wanted. He must have told the hotel desk clerk to send it up. Somehow it had arrived before we did.
I nodded, even though we’d had a good amount to drink already. After all, it was St. Patrick’s Day. In New York City, that’s what you did on St. Patrick's. Drink. I was sure all that drinking was why I’d lost control of myself and admitted to being a virgin. Perhaps an alcohol haze was why he’d offered to help me, as I was sure I wasn’t Devin’s type. Even with a few drinks under my belt, I was still bewildered about how he ended up spending the evening with me.
I’d been serving the lunch crowd in the chic diner I worked in to help pay for college when Devin and his friend Danny showed up. They weren’t the first cocky, handsome, rich boys I’d ever served, but they were the first that I agreed to meet later. Then again, they were the first to say they wanted to meet me and my friend Kim.
I wasn’t ugly, but I couldn’t imagine I was the type Devin normally went for. I wasn’t tall, rich, or glamorous. I was average in height, rounder in build, and while I felt pretty, I wasn’t a cover girl.
The conversation started innocently enough when I delivered their lunch plates.
“Come on, Dev, it’s one of the biggest parties of the year,” his friend Danny said.
Devin sat back as I set his plate in front of him. “It’s the same party as all the other ones. Don’t you ever get sick of it? The same people talking the same shit, all of it bullshit. It’s all plastic and fake.”
“No. I don’t.”
Devin looked up at me, which was when I first noticed how green his eyes were.
“Can I get you anything else?” I asked.
“What are you doing for St. Patrick's?” Devin asked me.
“Pub crawl,” I answered. “There’s probably bullshit there too, but no plastic. All salt-of-the-earth people. And affordable. Five dollar whiskey shots.”
Devin let out a loud laugh, while his friend frowned.
“Are you old enough?” Devin asked.
“Yep.” This year I was finally old enough, although I had gone the year before with a fake ID.
“How many bars?” Devin pressed on.
“I think there’s fifty or so participating. We’ll see how far we get.” I looked over my shoulder to make sure the manager wasn’t glaring at me for taking too long with my customers.
“Devin, we told Lauren and Evie we’d—”
“You told them.”
“You’re leaving next week for who knows how long. Don’t you want to spend it with your friends?” Danny asked.
I wondered where Devin was going that would keep him away. I doubted the rich people sent their kids into the military.
“Not tonight, I don’t.” Devin looked up at me again. “You willing to give me a tour?”
I stared at him, wondering if I was being punked or something. “You look old and smart enough to figure it out on your own.”
His eyes narrowed slightly and his lips quirked up as if he was amused by me. “I’ve been sheltered all my life. I need someone to guide me through the real world.”
I smirked, but found that I was amused by him too. Even so, I didn’t want to commit too much. I took out a pen from my pocket and wrote the name of the bar Kim and I would be at tonight to start the party.
“I’ll be there at seven. Lauren and Evie are invited too.”
Devin laughed again.
Danny shook his head. “They’ll never go for that.”
I shrugged. “Regular folk don’t have cooties.”
“Rena! Table eight,” my manager yelled.
“Gotta go, boys.”
“I’ll see you at seven,” Devin said as I walked off.
I didn’t believe it for a minute that he’d be there, and so I was shocked when he stepped up beside me as I waited for my first shot of whiskey.
“So this is how the real world parties, huh?”
Kim blinked as Devin slung his arm over my shoulder.
“You came,” I managed around my shock.
“Yep.”
I narrowed my eyes. “It’s not like you’ve never been clubbing. You can’t tell me you’ve never been bar hopping.”
“I have, but with the plastic people.”
“Who are plastic people?” Kim asked.
“The people I normally hang out with,” he said waving to the bartender and calling out for a shot of whiskey.
“Rich people,” I clarified for Kim. “He wants to slum it tonight.”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “I’m looking for real. Like you.”
“Where is your friend?”
“With the plastic people. I didn’t catch your name before.”
“Serena and this is Kim.” To my thinking, Kim was more his type. She wasn’t rich or fake, but she was thin, tall, and more classically pretty.
“I’m Devin.” He grabbed the three drinks and handed one to each of us. “Sláinte.”
And then we were off, making our way through New York, visiting bars on the pub crawl route, drinking and laughing. Laughing a lot. He didn’t come off as rich and pompous, although I suppose that was why he was with us instead of his usual crew; he was bored of rich and pompous.
“So where are you going in
