Stretching her arms high overhead, the young brunette sighed, leaning back in her bar stool. It was late spring, classes at the University had just let out for the summer, and Kenna Lyn Norwood was enjoying her first official day of freedom getting drunk off her ass on grasshopper martinis in a local dive bar. Dropping a five dollar bill on the bar for the girl behind it, she stood, shrugging on her coat to head outside for a smoke. The young woman had been in the bar for the last few hours, and the cool air of the spring night washed over her, leaving her feeling refreshed. She leaned on the building, sweeping her long bangs away from her face. Taking a long drag off of the cigarette, her hazel eyes swept the street for people. That was the worst part of a small town. Besides the bars, nothing was open after eight at night, making the whole town sleepy and boring.
"What a drag," Kenna sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. There was no one in the bar under fifty, other than herself and the poor woman dealing with all the drunken old men. She patted her pockets, assuring herself that she had her phone and wallet, and started down one of the well-lit sidewalks. Pulling headphones from her pocket, she pushed them into her ears and turned up the music on her phone and bobbed her head slightly as she strolled through the town. Now that school was out again, Kenna knew she would have to go back to work through the summer before she went back for her final year and finally got her bachelors. Then again, she was thinking about switching her major.
She tugged gently at her jacket, the words of Evanescence's "My Immortal" sounding in her ears. Home wasn't her destination tonight. In fact, her destination wasn't quite clear to her right now. Wandering toward the park, she hummed as she walked. There were still occasional patches of snow here and there, which wasn't uncommon in Northern Michigan's variant spring weather. Moving down the dirt path, she climbed up onto a rock beside the water and looked over the small river. If nothing else, it was a beautiful spot.
Across the park a man was jogging, hard rock jamming loud through his headphones. He was just recently out of work, and it was nice to relieve the stress of the day working out. Feet pounding the pavement, he surged forward through the park, toward the small bridge that crossed the river. His cold blue eyes didn't realize that there was another person until he nearly knocked her off her rock.
"Shit. You okay?" he asked, stepping back and rubbing his forearm. He had accidentally knocked her shoulder with it.
"Ow, dammit," she growled, pulling out her headphones. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just watch where you're going."
He could smell the alcohol on her. There was a slight slur to the woman's words, making him frown. He tugged out his headphones as well, dropping his hood to get a better look at her. "You sure? Why are you out here alone?"
She squinted up at him, having a hard time trying to discern his features. "Mhm. I want to be," she hummed, leaning back and nearly slipping off the stone. "What'sit to ya?"
He chuckled, offering his arm to help her stand. "Just a concerned runner; trying to keep a drunk girl from harm."
Kenna's features twisted into a frown as she accepted his help up. "No harm here! Just a – hic – river!"
Nodding, he led her toward the main street, walking to be sure that the drunken girl didn't have any issues. There had recently been a few rapes reported in the area, and knowing that she was out here, he'd feel like shit to have her be part of the running serial crime. When they got out to the sidewalk, he glanced down at her. She was short, just barely above five feet tall, with long, coppery hair and pale skin that seemed to be made of porcelain. Her eyes were a myriad of greens and browns, and she was slender for her height. Most of the short girls in the area were heavier set, from what he recalled. The globe lamps of the streets made it easier to see just how pretty the woman was.
"So, what's your name, miss?"
"Mm, Kenna. Kenna Norwood. Yours?"
"Jason Juergens. It's nice to meet you, Kenna."
"You too, Jay."
Shaking his head, Jason steered her toward his apartment. He lived on the main street of town, in an apartment just above Logger's Bar; a notoriously rough bar, but he got by. "Come on, you can crash at my place. We'll get you home in the morning."
Kenna leaned on him for support, no longer trusting herself to speak. Her jaw felt loose, like she was going to puke shortly. Gripping his arm tighter, she looked up at the man leading her to his home. Through her drunken haze, she could tell he was attractive. He had olive toned skin, his chin, covered in a dark stubble, was hard set and masculine, and his eyes were blue. Such a clear and crystal blue that the only thing that she could think of comparing them to was the sky through a frosted window. Beautiful, but cold. He had long, dark hair, kept spiked up. Jason was tall, she noted. Probably just under six feet tall, to be exact.
Hot. That was the best was that Kenna could describe him. Beneath his baggy hoodie, she could feel the hard muscles of his arm. Hotter.
As Jason led her up the stairs toward his apartment, she raised her free hand to her head. Things were getting spinney, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold back her puke. Almost as if to agree with her thoughts, she had to stop, pressing one hand firmly to her mouth and her shoulders heaved with the first signs of drunken vomit. Alarmed, he scooped her up and darted through his never-locked apartment, taking the woman to the bathroom. Ever the gentleman, he held her hair away from her face while she spewed out all the vile alcohol that had soured in her stomach. Soothingly, he rubbed her back until the last of her dry heaves subsided, and offered her mouthwash to rinse out the taste before taking off her shoes and leading her to his bedroom.
Kenna wouldn't remember how she got there, but he allowed her to take his bed for the night, opting to take a spare blanket and pillow out to his futon. Lying down, Jason chuckled. "This is not how I had planned on spending my night," he sighed, throwing his arm over his eyes. On the floor beside the futon was his hoodie and running pants; leaving him only boxers to sleep in. "But I can't say it's so bad." He chuckled to himself as he allowed the soft snoring from his bedroom lull him to sleep.
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