Complicated by You Read Online Free PDF Page A

both of us. “What’s so funny, ladies?”
    His cologne assaulted my senses. It was some designer number that could have been intoxicating in small doses, but he'd poured it on. The fragrance overtook my own perfume and forced me to take a small step back. Other than that he seemed like a perfect candidate for going home with me tonight, as long as he didn't mess it up somehow.
    “My friend’s really entertaining.” I motioned to Melanie as she hid her chuckling face by drinking more of her rum and Coke.
    “How are you both doing tonight?” He formed his full lips into a wide grin that displayed perfect teeth and one gold tooth in the center.
    Oh God. He’s got a gold tooth. I twisted my lips to the side, realized I was doing it, and straightened them back. Oh well. No big deal. It’s not like I want to have sex with his mouth.
    “I’m doing fine,” I replied.
    “I’m thirsty.” Melanie walked off. “I’ll be right back.” She rushed away from the liquor, giving the clear impression that she was leaving us alone to breed.
    Marcus’s gaze trailed from the top of my head down to my toes. He made no attempt to hide that he liked what he saw. "I've never seen you before. Do you hang out with us Ques a lot?"
    "I’ve been here a few times, but tend to give all the fraternities equal party participation. I'm cool like that."
    "We'll have to change that. Q-dogs should be your only party destination." He moved in closer and gave me a great opportunity to drool over his bulky shoulders and ripped chest. “I love the rose in your hair. Very Billie Holiday.”
    “She’s my favorite jazz singer.”
    I'd found that some guys ran their mouths to the point that they lost an invitation to taking off my panties. I was a simple woman that didn't hold much against people and tried not to judge others. That being said, I had a few pet peeves. A guy blurting out the words “bitch” or “cunt” in any situation hit the top of the list. The only way it would be forgiven was if the person who he was referring to was actually in fact named Bitch or Cunt. Crotch-grabbing or groin-scratching fell right behind name calling. Next came jean sagging. There was no way I could bring home that type of guy. My mom threatened many times to shoot any thug-looking boys who came to see me if they so much as stepped into our yard. I didn’t doubt her. A fun Sunday for my mom was church in the morning and shooting at the gun range in the afternoon.
    I pointed to the brand on his chest. “Did that hurt?”
    “Hell yes.” He leaned my way as if telling me I could touch it. I did. The brand puffed out. I traced the soft skin with my finger.
    Hmmm. He’ll definitely do.
    He licked his lips. "Would you like to dance?"
    "Definitely."
    One dance with him turned into several. In between songs, we took shots and talked about our classes. We had more in common than what I would've assumed. We were both math majors. Like me, he found mathematical equations sexy.
    “What’s your favorite equation?” I asked more to see if he was full of it than to discover the actual answer.
    “Easy. Pythagorean Theorem. It’s the one that started it all for me.”
    Desire hit my core. How sad that the mention of a geometry formula would get me hot and bothered. The formula explained that for any right-angled triangle, the square of the length of the hypotenuse, or longest side of a right triangle, equaled the sum of the squares of the other two sides’ lengths.
    So hot!
    “Why is it your favorite?” I finished my fourth drink.
    “My parents had just split up the week before I learned it in class. I remembered wishing that life was that simple. That every emotion had a simple formula that fit and explained it.”
    “Wow.”
    “Wow. What?”
    “You’re perfect.”
    He leaned in. “Perfect for what?”
    “My little secret.” I blew him a kiss.
    He took my cup. “Do you want another drink?”
    “Yes.”
    The more drinks and shots I swallowed, the