The study group was having a party at Troy, Annie and Abed's apartment on a Saturday night. Britta and Shirley were loudly and drunkenly dancing to The Police's greatest hits. Troy and Abed were showing each other their best Nicholas Cage impersonations, which left Jeff and Annie paired off together making cocktails in the kitchen. These days they often paired off together as if by default. They were growing older, more mature, and perhaps closer to an adult relationship? These were all things that ran through both Jeff and Annie's minds on a daily basis. Jeff, however, thwarted these thoughts away while Annie pondered over them, full of hope and sexual desire. Yes, that's right. Sexual desire. Little Annie wasn't Little Annie anymore. She was 22 years old and craved a man's rough touch much like any other girl her age. This notion was something Jeff was still coming to terms with. I mean, he'd always thought Annie was super hot – in a sexy schoolgirl way. But now he wondered if the young lady was actually mature enough to sleep with him without going 'teenage-girl-crazy' over him the next morning. Deep down he knew that she was and despite the fact that he'd been fucking her in his dreams for the last two years, he was scared.
"Oh whoops," giggled Annie as she let slip a little too much rum into the mojito's she was making for herself and Jeff.
"Hey! Are you trying to get me drunk or what?" Jeff laughed. They had all been drinking since 3pm. It was now 9pm. So it would be fair to say that everyone in the apartment was well and truly wasted. Annie had mentioned earlier that she was terrible at making cocktails and Jeff seemed to think that he was the King Of All Cocktails. They had figured, what better time to make cocktails than after six hours of straight drinking? It was a fabulous idea.
"Two delicious mojitos coming up!" Annie said and then gleamed as she handed the drink to Jeff. They smiled and sipped at their drinks. Their smiles faded quickly as they both began to cough and splutter.
"Fucking hell, Annie! This tastes like poison!"
"Yeah… I may have put in a little too much rum," she said with a perplexed face. They both laughed then Jeff's gaze met Annie's and (partly because of their inebriated state) they stood staring into each other's eyes.
I believe 'googly-eyes' is the correct term here.
But goddammit, thought Jeff, why did Annie's eyes make his heart beat in his chest like that? Every time he looked at her he had to resist the urge to rip her clothes off. And lately it had been getting more and more difficult. Maybe he should just man up and kiss the girl already. But is that what she wanted? What did she want? Fuck, what did he want? Screw that, he knew what he wanted. He wanted Annie Edison moaning his name in his ear. Naked.
"He guys watch this!" yelled Britta from across the room. Jeff's train of thought was suddenly lost as Britta's annoying, drunken voice penetrated his ears. He watched her attempt a handstand. And fail. Miserably.
Annie had put her mojito back down and began trying to make another lethal concoction.
"Here, let me show you how to make a Long Island iced tea," said Jeff. He reached out to grab two glasses but accidentally knocked over Annie's half-drunken mojito. The cocktail spilled straight onto the counter and all over Jeff's pants. Great, it looked like he had wet himself.
"Haha! That sucks," said Annie as she pointed to his pants. He looked back at her, not amused.
"Okay, come with me, I have a hair dryer in my room," she said. Annie grabbed a damp cloth from the kitchen sink before she took Jeff by the hand and into her room.