Page 1 of Kismet

Prologue

Cash DeMarco

September, Sophomore Year of College

“Can I get three Bud Light bottles, please?”

“Sure thing, cutie. Can I see your ID really quick?”

Reaching into my back pocket, I grab my wallet and pull out my fake ID. “Here you go.” I flash the cute bartender one of my signature pretty boy grins, making her cheeks pink as she takes the ID.

She examines it for all of four seconds, before handing it back to me and spinning on her heel to fetch the drinks. It’s Friday night in Pullman, meaning this place is packed wall to wall with drunk, horny college kids. I’m not the first fake ID of the night, and I certainly won’t be the last.

I’m here tonight with my buddies, Branson, Knox, and Weston. We all just finished our first week in our second year of college at Washington State University. The first week of each semester is usually chill, but we’re coming out tonight to let out some steam anyway.

“Here ya go, hun. Want me to start a tab?”

“Please. Thanks.” Handing me the beers, she winks at me before turning her attention to the next customer in line.

I make my way back to the table. We’re posted up in the back of the bar. The perfect spot for people watching—my favorite pastime in places like this. Weaving through the bodies littering the dance floor and walkway, I finally make it to the table without bumping into anyoneorspilling the beers.

That’s a win in my book.

“Here.” I give Knox and Weston their beers. Branson is our designated driver for the night, so he’s nursing an ice water. We normally go to a bar closer to campus, but we felt like a change in scenery tonight, so we’re at a dive bar just outside of town calledReggie’s. There’s live music doing metal band covers right now, and they don’t sound half bad.

“Thanks, man,” Knox mumbles before tipping back the bottle and guzzling half of it in one go.

“Yeah, thanks,” Weston says, lifting his bottle in the air before taking a swig.

“No problem.” Bringing the bottle up to my lips, I take a long pull, loving the way the crisp, ice-cold beer feels going down my throat. “How’s everyone’s classes so far?”

“Not bad,” Knox replies, his attention turned toward the dance floor. Probably watching some chick.

“My professors seem much nicer than last year,” Weston murmurs. “So, that’s good. How about you, man?”

“Good! I was able to snag two different English classes this semester, English 201 and creative writing,” I state with a smile. “Pretty cool, I think.”

“You’re such a nerd.” Knox laughs. “How are you a fucking frat guy, but a nerd too?”

All my friends were shocked when I pledged. According to them, you can’t be smart and enjoy school, while also being in a frat. Who knew? “I don’t know, man. Guess I’m just special.” Flipping him off, I bring my attention back to the swarm of people dancing—more like grinding—in the center of the room.

One couple in particular catches my attention right away. A woman on the shorter side, with light brown hair, wearing tight denim cut-offs with a white tank top, is dancing with what looks to be an incredibly attractive man. I say looks to be, because his face is turned away from my view, but goddamn, he looks fine.

He’s got black, slightly shaggy hair, and he’s really tall. I’m over six feet, and he’s gotta be at least a few inches taller than me. He’s in light denim wranglers that do wonders for his tight ass, a well-worn leather jacket, with a plain white tee underneath, and a pair of combat boots.

Fuck me.He could step on me with those on, and I’d say thank you.

If I go up to the bar again, I’d be able to see his face better. “Hey, guys. Wanna do shots?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely!” Weston is always—and I meanalways—down for shots.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” With quick steps, I head toward the bar. It’s still just as busy as it was when I got the beers, but that’s okay. I can watch the hottie in leather while I wait.

With my back to the bar, my gaze easily finds him and the chick he’s dancing with. She’s grindingallup on him, and it’s doing things to me. My preference is men, but technically, I do swing both ways. However, it’s not her I’m looking at.

Leather Daddy’s face comes into view, and he looks so familiar. I can’t place where I know him from, but I swear I do.

“Back so soon, hun?”

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