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I cuddled with Rich for awhile on the couch while we listened to several ‘80s power ballads. We laughed at the memories of the big hair and brightly colored spandex.

“Hey, how about we watch a movie? It might help take your mind off a certain ‘jackass,’” Rich suggested with a laugh.

The staff had purchased a TV and VCR for the
Eagle’s
office the previous year. We kept a collection of movies, mostly featuring journalists, to watch during our downtime.

“Sure, that sounds like a great idea. What do we have over there?”

Rich walked over to the cabinet and pulled out
The Pelican Brief
, but I had another movie in mind.

“How about
Up Close & Personal
,” I asked with a pouty face.

“Fine, you’re the one who’s had the rough night. I’ll let you pick, but only this once,” he replied. “Besides, I can’t really complain about watching Michelle Pfeiffer for two hours,” he added with a wink.

I lightly punched him in the arm before we sat back down on the couch. I quickly snuggled myself into his body once again and we watched the movie without saying too much.

“Maybe journalism isn’t such a safe career choice,” I remarked, as I watched Michelle Pfeiffer’s character fight for her freedom.

“Any profession has its risks, Brooke, besides, not all outlets cover such hazardous assignments.”

“I know. It’s just a movie, anyways. Not like this kind of stuff actually happens in real life,” I responded.

As the movie ended, I couldn’t see past my tears as the credits scrolled down the screen.

“Wh – Why did Robert Redford have to die – die at the end,” I said between sobs.

Rich pulled me closer into his side, “Don’t cry, Brooke – remember what you said, ‘it’s just a movie.’”

“I –I know, but it’s so – so sad,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Promise me that you will never become a foreign correspondent. I can’t stand the thought of losing you that way.”

“Brooke, don’t take offense to this, but I think you are just overly emotional right now. But, if it makes you feel better, sweetheart, I promise I won’t become a foreign correspondent,” he reassured me.

It was getting late and I had an early morning class the next day, so I reluctantly pulled myself from Rich’s hold.

“What time is it? I didn’t wear my watch and I forgot the clock here needs a new battery.”

“About eleven,” he answered, looking down at his watch.

“Crap, I was supposed to meet Cassidy in the library three hours ago. I didn’t realize I’d been up here that long. I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. You probably had work to finish. Anyways, I should get back to my room before Cass sends a search party out for me.”

“I’ll walk you.” He didn’t mean it as a question. He was walking me back to my room whether I wanted him to, or not. In this case, though, I very much wanted him to.

After just a short distance, we made it back to my door and Rich scooped me into his arms once again. I could tell that he wanted to taste my lips against his as much as I did, but neither of us made the move toward each other. We both knew we needed to wait, if there were to be any future for us.

Rich and I didn’t see much of each other outside of class and our duties with the
Eagle
. Several months passed and the holidays came and went. I spent the month-long winter break back home with my parents. My mom was pleased to know that I had broken up with Jay. While most of my friends loved Jay, my mom was never his biggest advocate. Other than Cassidy, my mom was my best friend and her opinion mattered, but I just couldn’t understand her problem with Jay … until now. I suppose a mother’s intuition is always right. I appreciated the time I spent at home. Ever since I moved to Kalamazoo, I hadn’t been able to spend much time with my folks. We had always been close, probably because I had been their spoiled-rotten , only child.

This Christmas hadn’t been any different. My mom took me shopping before the big day and bought me a bunch of new clothes and even threw in a few “toys.” I was so excited to take my new DVD player back to campus to show Cass.

After the holidays, the winter seemed to drag along as it always did. Rich and I hung out casually a lot, once we returned to campus following the winter break. Although I was disappointed that our relationship seemed to be going nowhere, I had hopes that things would soon change.

We would often spend hours writing articles, studying and preparing research papers, while locked away in the Eagle’s office together. We talked about everything from our classes to our families to the conflict in the Middle East. We would laugh and sometimes even cry together. OK, I was the one usually crying on his shoulder, but I tried to avoid scaring him away with too much personal drama. In a way, Rich Davis had become one of my best friends in just a matter of a few short months. I often wondered if he would become anything more than just that.

My mid-March birthday finally arrived. Cassidy had big plans to help me celebrate my twenty-first in style. She had invited a group of our closest friends and sorority sisters out to celebrate at Monaco Bay, the hottest bar near campus. I decided to send Rich a message over Instant Messenger to invite him to, what would probably end up being, my first legal, drinking marathon.

Hey, Rich … The girls and I are about to head out to Monaco Bay to celebrate my roommate’s and my twenty-first. You want to tag along?

Rich: Sure thing, Babbling Brooke. I wouldn’t miss watching you make a drunken fool of yourself. ;) I’ll meet you lovely ladies there in twenty.

Ugh! You know I hate it when you call me that!! It’s my birthday and you have to be NICE to me! ;) See you soon. Smooches.

Rich: Fine, no Babbling Brooke comments – tonight! But, I am entitled to give you 21 birthday spankings, pretty lady! ;)

For some reason, I suddenly felt my nerves begin to tingle over my entire body. My brow and hands began to sweat and butterflies began taking up residence in my tummy. The thought of Rich spanking me was really getting me worked up inside.
Why was I getting nervous about Rich? Was I ready? It had been over four months since the breakup with Jay. I think my nervousness was my body telling me that I was really ready for this … whatever “this” was between Rich and me.

Cassidy helped me rummage through my closet to find the perfect outfit to celebrate my twenty-first.

“Sophisticated, yet flirty,” she said, as she handed me the emerald green tank top and skin-tight, black pants.

I paired this ensemble with a jean jacket and black boots since it was still a chilly March evening. I then straightened my hair and put on some light makeup before going back into our room. Cassidy was just finishing up getting herself ready for the evening.

“Oooh la la. Look at you, birthday girl … you are gonna get laid tonight,” she declared with a wink.

“Shut up, Cass. I haven’t even kissed Rich yet. I very much doubt we’re going to have sex … tonight.”

“Whatever you say, Brookie. Now let’s go get you drunk.”

“Thanks for waiting a night to celebrate your twenty-first. I’m glad we can do this together. Although, I must say, I’m a bit surprised you didn’t bring a beer home last night to rub it in my face.”

“Oh, don’t kid yourself, Brookie. I stopped at the bar and downed a few shots while you were working on the
Eagle,
last night.”

“Oh, I see … So much for waiting to party with your best friend,” I replied sarcastically.

She linked her arm with mine as we walked out the door and the few blocks to Monaco Bay.

I bellied up to the bar with a bunch of my closest girlfriends as the bartender mixed me my first cocktail on the house. I don’t remember what name he gave it – some house special. It had been nearly twenty minutes when Rich strolled in with one of his buddies – always punctual that Rich Davis.

“Hey there, birthday girl. Can I buy you your next drink? I know, how about a shot?” As Rich was talking, I felt him slide up behind me and place his arm around my shoulder while his buddy took the open seat next to mine.

“Sure Rich, I’m kind of new at this … a shot … virgin. I guess you could say. Surprise me with something.”

“Oooh, I get to pop your cherry, do I?”

I couldn’t help but contain my giggle at his innuendo.

“Can I get four tequila shots over here,” Rich yelled to the bartender.

“Comin’ right up.”

“Tequila? Are you trying to get me drunk, Davis?”

“Brooke, it’s your twenty-first birthday. Of course, I’m trying to get you drunk, sweetheart.”

The bartender slid us our four tequila shots and Rich grabbed the salt, poured some on his wrist and licked it before passing me the shaker.
I followed his lead and did the same before he handed me the small shot glass filled to the rim with Jose Cuervo.

I closed my eyes and plugged my nose before I put the glass to my lips and took a small sip. Even that one small sip left me gagging and gasping for air. I heard Rich laughing hysterically at my troubles in between my frantic gasps.

“What the hell are you doing, Brooke? Let me show you how it’s done.”

He brought the glass to his lips and with one quick movement swallowed the entire contents of the glass before slamming it back down onto the bar. He then quickly picked up one of the lemons that accompanied the shots and sucked it between his lips.
Oh how I wish I was that lemon.

“Now … you do it – just like that.”

“I can’t chug it like that … It’d kill me!”

“Stop being a pussy, Brooke. Take the damn tequila shot like the feisty woman that I know you are.”

“Fine.”
There he goes infuriating me again. I couldn’t let Rich Davis call me a pussy … not unless he’s referring to sinking his rock-hard cock into it.

I tilted my head back and dumped the warm liquid into my mouth. I didn’t gag this time and felt it slide down the back of my throat as heat radiated throughout my body.

“Thata girl,” Rich cheered, as he slammed back his second shot and slid mine, along with the rest of the lemons, across the bar in my direction.

Just as I was finishing two more tequila shots that Rich had shoved in front of me, I heard Cass sneak up behind us.

“Be careful with that tequilllllllla,” she slurred. “It’s a sneaky bitch. One minute you’re dancing like a sexy mutha and the next you’re on the ground pantless and making out with a shoe. And, let’s just hope in your case the shoe’s name is Rich effin’ Davis.”

“Oh my gawd, you are SO wasted! What are you even talking about? Go get some water, hooker!” I shouted over the booming music.

I was laughing hysterically by the time my best friend sauntered off to go flirt with some freshman who had probably sneaked in with a fake.

I was feeling the effects after several drinks that evening. It seemed like every time I turned around someone else was buying me a Sex on the Beach, Slippery Nipple, Screaming Orgasm, and even a Leg Spreader.
Seriously, who thought of these names? … Obviously, a horny man!

After what I believed to be my eighth or ninth drink, I realized that Rich had gone missing. I looked around the bar and that’s when I saw him and he wasn’t alone. He was sitting at the other end of the bar, looking rather cozy with Aubrey Sullivan.

Aubrey Sullivan was the
Eagle’s
feature editor. She had the perfect sun-kissed blonde hair, large green eyes and the perfect body … legs that went on for miles, narrow waist and huge boobs. Word on the street was they weren’t even real.
I wasn’t quite sure how a twenty-one-year-old paid for a boob job, but then again, what did I know?
And, tonight they were perfectly on display in a tight black, v-neck sweater.

I felt a surge of jealousy run through my drunken veins. I didn’t want Rich anywhere near Aubrey. He promised me that he would wait for me. Why was he not waiting for me? And, not only did he appear not to be waiting for me, but he was with her … with freaking Aubrey Sullivan!

I decided that I needed to take action. I stepped down from my bar stool and onto my very wobbly legs. The alcohol was making my head spin, but I made it my mission to make it somehow down to the end of that bar to claim my Rich.
My Rich? Wow, I really was plastered.