Free Hush by Jude Sierra Page B

Julianne smiles over her mug of coffee and the cheerful strawberry blonde swing of her hair catches the overhead lights.
    “Nope,” Nate says. He tilts back in his chair and drapes his arm across the back of hers. His Cubs hat is turned backwards, which makes his unkempt hair stick out in all directions under the brim. “It’s just been too long since I’ve participated in any planned debauchery.”
    “Really?” Cam jokes. “I thought that’s what every Sock Saturday was about.”
    “Har har,” Nate flips him off and Cam laughs.
    “What’s ‘Sock Saturday’?” Mic butts in.
    “You know that old sock rule guys used to have in dorms?”
    “And girls,” Julianne chimes in.
    “Yeah, I guess. You guys don’t actually do that, do you?” Mic asks.
    “No, no.” Cam says, laughing lightly. “He just texts me the word ‘socks’ pretty much every Saturday. I call it being ‘soxiled.’”
    “I take a break every now and then,” Nate says, pretending to be offended.
    “Yeah, that’s what Friday is for,” Cam retorts.
    “Well this certainly explains some things,” Julianne observes.
    “Oh?”
    “Your excellent grades and why you are always at the library?”
    Cam looks down, turning his coffee mug around and around on its saucer. “Yep. I do love the library.” And it has nothing to do with stupidly hoping to run into someone there, he doesn’t add.
    “Okay, so, Cam’s perfection aside,” Nate says. “Tonight? Wild night out?”
    “I’m in,” Julianne says; Mic nods.
    “Cam?” Nate asks in a leading tone.
    “You know it’s not really my thing,” Cam hedges.
    “No,” Nate wags his finger. “What I know is that you think it’s not your thing, but that you totally love getting crazy too. At least, that’s what your actions tell us.”
    “He has a point,” Mic smiles.
    “The embarrassing ramblings of a drunken man should not be considered truth,” Cam grumbles.
    “Au contraire,” Julianne says. “Drunken confessions are the most honest kind.”
    “That’s a terrible line of thought if you are trying to sway me,” Cam points out.
    “How about this, then,” Nate says, tipping his chair back down. “We’re gonna have fun. You need more fun. It’s on, baby.”
    Cam rolls his eyes but can’t hide the twitch of a smile. Nate slaps him on the back, takes Cam’s hand and makes Cam fist bump him.

Chapter Seven
    They let Mic pick the bar, since he’s the most familiar with the scene near campus. Cam can’t claim he’s completely comfortable with this group; they’re Nate’s friends and Cam’s acquaintances, but it is a social circle separate from the one he’d briefly shared with Maggie and her friends. Mic settles on O’Leary’s, which is cheap but not ridiculously busy. It’s dark and close, all deep-stained wood and clusters of chairs around high round tables. Mild chaos surrounds them, but the bar rail is the busiest spot.
    Cam drinks what they put in front of him. The more he drinks, the harder it is to attend to the conversation. Instead, his atten­tion is drawn to the other bar patrons. He watches people flirt and begins to differentiate between something new and couples more familiar with each other. A woman with startlingly bright hair leans into the space of a man at her table. They seem to be out with friends, as he is, and Cam sees an exchange of energy when they look at each other. Friends with a desire for more.
    He finds himself rooting for her.
    * * *
    “I have someone I want to set you up with,” Maggie says breath­lessly as she drops into the seat across from him.
    “What?” Cam sets down his fork. “You’re playing matchmaker now?”
    “I think it’s time,” she says. He’s a little surprised to find that less than two months after their breakup is enough time for this.
    “I don’t know, Maggie. It turns out I totally suck at the romance thing—”
    “You don’t,” she interrupts easily. “It just wasn’t right. Besides,” she