Cocktails & Dreams Read Online Free PDF

in preparation for moving cross-country.
    Conor sat down on a bench, stretched his gangly legs out in front of him, and pulled the collar of his sherpa-lined leather jacket closer to his neck. Even in May, the breeze across the water was cold. Nick sat beside him, sensing his friend had something to say.
    “So. You’re really going to move to granola central, huh?” Conor snorted laughter. “That shocked the hell out of me. I was expecting beaches and babes, not… that .”
    “You know how sexy I think Birkenstocks with socks are,” Nicholas joked. “Why else would I move to the California version of the Pacific Northwest?” He leaned against the back of the bench and stretched his legs out in front of him, as well. Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, he waited for the next volley.
    Conor snickered. “Well, maybe you’ll connect with the hottie again. Get rid of those fuckin’ blue balls.”
    “Not likely.” Nicholas pushed back a lingering memory of gentle hands. “We were in San Fran, remember? Different town, and not even close to anywhere I went to school. She could be from anywhere, Con. That’s one ship that has sailed, I’m afraid.”
    “Never say never, man. What was the chance you’d meet someone you knew from your past in the first place?” Conor asked, nudging Nicholas’s shoulder with his own. He looked down at his hands as he jammed them in his jacket pockets. “So you’re planning to leave a couple of months early, to get set up, right?”
    “Yeah. I have to give my notice and get my crap together, but it will be fairly soon. I won’t leave you in the lurch—”
    Conor cut Nicholas off, pulling an envelope out of his pocket and shoving it at Nick while still looking down. “I figure I’m never going to play for the Celtics anyway, even if I do look the part, so would you mind some company?”
    A grin engulfed Nick’s face as he pulled out and read the letter inside the UC Davis envelope.
    “Holy shit, Conor! You did it! About fucking time! When did you do this?”
    Conor stopped fighting his own grin and let it out in all its glory. “I finally got tired of you bitching at me, so I sent out some apps. My letter came today when yours did.”
    “But how—I mean, I know you’re fuckin’ smart, but—”
    “Remember all those ‘extra shifts’ a while back?” Conor looked a little sheepish and shook his head. “Brush up courses and testing. I actually did really well in high school. People look at this body—” he gestured the length of his frame, and it was all Nick could do to hold back a laugh at his friend’s obvious pride in his body “—and expect dumb, but I’m not.”
    “Hell, I know that, Con.”
    “I know I could have gone around here,” Conor said quickly, “but I really liked what we saw this winter. Was it too chickish to apply where you’re going? I’ve never lived anywhere besides Boston, you know?”
    Conor suddenly looked like a little boy, the cocky light that usually brightened his plain face momentarily dimmed with his uncertainty, nervous for Nicholas’s reaction.
    Nick slugged him on the shoulder. “Hell, no! It’ll be great! You can help me with my mystery woman search—at least you might recognize her clothed.” He nudged Conor. “And I can’t imagine your taste for nasty blondes will go unfulfilled, even in Hippie Heaven. It is California, after all.”
    A sly grin crossed Conor’s face. “I’m counting on that, cupcake.” He turned to Nicholas, and they laughed like a couple of loons.
    “So?” Nicholas asked.
    Conor grinned, leaning against the bench back and cracking his knuckles. “California, here we come.”

Chapter Three
    J ENA S ANK D OWN G RATEFULLY on the hard bench, clutching her Starbucks cup. As morally opposed as she was to spending four dollars on one cup of coffee, she needed the caffeine buzz more and more as the day dragged on and her sleepless night caught up with her.
    “Travis,” she whined, “are