Even after two and a half years at NYU, I was still a lightweight when it came to alcohol, but tonight I didn’t mind at all. It was a good way to dull the somber evening.
I glanced at my phone again, but my messages were still unanswered. Patrick and I weren’t dating exactly, but we were something. Something enough that we’d planned an evening together, one he was now undoubtedly having with someone else. I had no illusions about the romantic potential of a man who’d bang his own student during office hours, but he had a big dick and a thrilling wit. Even if he wasn’t likely to be my future husband, I could still dream.
The crowd’s excitement rose on TV, drawing my attention.
