Hello beautiful world, I was a wee bit drunk on pink moscato when I wrote the better half of this chapter. So excuse any mistake imake writing this. Im too tipsy to give a fuck about grammatical errors.

Chapter 3:

He didn't call. Not even a text message, just as Elain had suspected. Still, she glanced too quickly at her phone whenever it made a noise, just hoping Feyre was right.

Naturally, she blamed Feyre, it was her after all who put those seeds of hope inside of her mind. She couldn't stop glaring at her as she stood in front of her desk, distracting her from her Botany notes.

"You know we're going back tonight right?"

"Uh. No. We aren't." Elain nearly spat out. The fire that burned in Nesta's blood might be rubbing off on her.

"Come on," Feyre said, plopping down next to her on the floor, "You can't just back out all of a sudden. We just started having fun!"

"I'm not training for the Olympics Feyre," Elain bit the inside of her cheek to keep her words as calm and collected as she wanted to be.

"Yes you are, just think of Graysen as your gold medal." Feyre paused, waiting for Elain to say something, "Since I'm going to that concert with Tam, I'll make sure Morrigan goes tonight. And Nesta can go too! It'll be a little group and I'll be texting all of you for updates, so it'll be just like I'm there!" Elain finally dared to look in her younger sister's eyes, "Say yes Elain," she drilled.

"Fine. Yes."

Feyre jumped off of the floor too excited for this, "YES! I'll gather the girls and you jump in the shower, but don't pick out your outfit. I'm in charge of that department."

"of course you are," Elain groaned getting up from her chair. She went over to the bathroom and turned the faucet on. The hot water hit her back and the steam in the room filled her lungs. She dreaded it honestly, going back there again. She didn't want to seem like a desperate nobody. He could have contacted her if he was interested in her, could have kept her in that hallway a little longer. But he didn't. He just let her go, maybe she should do the same. But the thought of him sent an unusual feeling down her body, butterflies danced in her belly and a blush crept on her cheeks. No one had every made her feel that way, well Graysen did. Sometimes.

She could picture him perfectly, his eyes that were so hazel they were nearly orange. A deep russet that she had only seen in the midst of October, when leaves were falling and the crisp air hit her face. Elain liked that he made her think of October that was her favorite month. Still, those eyes scanned the crowd and focused solely on her. In addition to being fine as yell he had that sarcastic witty thing going for him. It was so incredibly cliché it shouldn't have worked on her. But yeah, she was a fool for it. Just like every other girl that walked into Illyria.

At the thought of that Elain shut off the water, her butterflies were gone and she frowned as she began drying off her body. He might be accustomed to making out with a different girl everyday and sleeping with women whose names he couldn't recall in the morning but Elain…

Elain wanted to be different.

She wanted to be remembered.

Feyre didn't just round up Mor and Nesta, she had asked a few other girls they knew on their floor to join them. There were so many people they had to take two cars. Elain drover her own car, she liked to be in control of when they arrived and when they left and she wasn't a heavy drinker like some of the girls were.

Walking into the bar Elain immediately noticed how packed it was. But she noticed Lucien immediately, my god did he do anything else but work at this bar? Was he a student? Disappointment curled in Elain's stomach where butterflies had once been, what if there was nothing else for him? No goals outside of tending a bar.

Graysen was her goal. He was the cherry on top of her sundae and by God she was going to have it. The whole sundae. She wanted to finish her degree and get married and have 2.5 kids. She wanted to have the stability that her father could never give her and her sisters, and Lucien wasn't that. Graysen was.

"Here you go," Nesta said plopping the money in her hand, "We'll start with a couple of pitchers. Don't worry, I'll be right behind you to help you carry them." Elain looked back up to the bar, already feeling the redundancy of their meeting. He hadn't spotted her yet and she wanted to run, far, far away from him. She could only imagine the look he would give her when she approached the bar for the third night in a row and call her out as the idiot that she was.

But there was a little voice in Elain's head, the same voice that said he would call her, that said he would never do that.

"I don't want to do this," she finally said.

"What! Why?"

"Listen this just isn't my MO, to chase after silver tongued bar tenders. I'm sure he gets that I'm interested. If he's the 'player' why am I doing all of the chasing?"

Nesta stared at he sister, "He just hasn't had the opportunity yet, I'm sure when his ass isn't hiding behind the counter then he'll make his move." Elain shook her head and slapped the money back into Nesta's hand. If he really was interested in her then he would have made an opportunity. Not avoided it at all costs.

"You do it, and Ill stand close behind you and watch." Nesta rolled her eyes, "I'm not standing in front of him for the third night, I might as well have a poster board that says 'I WANT YOU!" on it." Elain flashed her sister a warning look, "And don't you dare embarrass me like Feyre did."

"Fine." Nesta bit out and started walking towards the bar with the money clutched rather harshly in her hand. She held the crinkled money in her hand and it only took a couple of minutes for her to have his attention. When he saw that it was Nesta his eyes scanned around the room, as if he was looking for someone. Elain held her breath as their eyes locked for no more than a second. Just long enough for him to acknowledge her presence. No more, no less. And then his gaze returned to Nesta.

He nodded at her and she began telling him her order. He nodded again and turned to make the pitchers for her. He handed her the change and the drinks, all without looking at Elain.

She pursed her lips and ran her hand almost too harshly through her hair. What the hell was she doing? Why was she trying to change who she was so Graysen could notice? This wasn't her, none of it was.

By the time Nesta had walked over to her she felt even more ashamed, more embarrassed than ever before. Nesta turned immediately toward her sister, her brows furrowed. "What's wrong?"

Elain shook her head, "This is crazy." She started, "I don't want to be here at all, I don't know why I'm here. I'm going home."

Her older sister's eyes widened and she frowned, "Aw don't go," but Elain stood her ground, "Ok…" Nesta said. She really didn't want her sister to be upset.

"No, you should stay. Catch a ride back with Cresseida or someone."

"Wait, I'll go with you, I don't want you to be at home by yourself." She had already set her pitchers on the table and readjusted her purse around her shoulder.

"No," Elain said, "You stay, I've got a bio test on Monday anyway."

"Ok," Nesta said uncertain whether she should actually listen to her sister or not. But Elain reassured her that she would be fine, she just wasn't feeling it tonight. "I'll see you later then," Elain then turned and began walking out of Illyria.

Stepping out of the bar a blast of cold air hit her face as if she had walked into an icy autumn filled pool. She made it halfway through the parking lot, when she remembered that she had skipped lunch. She began dreaming about a large fry and sweet tea from McDonalds when a hand clasped firmly on her shoulder. She let out a shriek and turned around, her fist skyrocketing into a man's shoulder.

"Whoa there," a deep chuckle launched from the man, Lucien's shoulder. He stood there with one hand high in the air while the other rubbed the spot on his shoulder that she had just struck.

Elain's eyes widened at the sight of him, "Oh my god," she said her hand reaching and then retracting from him, "Are you alright? I am so sorry!"

"Nah," he said brushing her off, "I should have said something before touching you,"

All Elain did was stand there, completely off guard that he was there and right in front of her. She cocked her head at him and gestured to the air between them, "Were you… Following me?"

Lucien pursed his lips, "I saw you leaving."

A smirk appeared on her lips, "So that's a yes?" She delighted in the fact that she wasn't invisible. He could see her.

He shook his head at her, maybe slightly embarrassed, "Look, you shouldn't be out here alone at night. Although with a little more practice and better aim, maybe I shouldn't be saying that." Her cheeks burned at his teasing, "Regardless, when guys have a little too much to drink and come out here, see a pretty girl…" Elain wished she had heard the better part of his speech but she only heard one word. Pretty. After that every other word was irrelevant. "Let me walk you to your car," he asked.

"Thank you," She turned back towards and he fell in step beside her.

With him standing beside her she finally grasped how tall he was. She wasn't small like some of the other girls. She and her sisters were pretty tall about 5'5 and she barely reached Lucien's chin. "I hope you don't get in trouble, you know for leaving the bar."

"It'll be fine," was all he said. After a few moments of silence he decided to be the one to fill it, "You're leaving a little early aren't you?"

"Yeah, I just… wasn't feeling it tonight."

A bark, louder than the one from the previous night, erupted from his mouth, "Not feeling it tonight," he repeated her, "I can't tell you how many times I've been there and have not been "feeling" it."

"You don't like your job?" she asked.

He shrugged, slipping one hand in his pocket, "Sometimes I do."

"Are you a student?"

"Nope, well unless you consider the two semesters I did. But no, I just graduated from high school." Her heart sank at that, so there really wasn't anything else for him. Working at a bar was all that was there for him, bummer. "You in college?" he asked.

She nodded. "Let me guess," he smirked, "Prythian?" Her silence caused another rumble of laughter to erupt from his chest, "Thought so,"

Elain stopped in her tracks, already so close to her car, "What's that supposed to mean!?"

"Nothing, nothing," he said his hands rose in the air, "Just you've got Ivy League written all over you." She scowled at him, why did it feel like an insult? "You just look nice, sweet, smart." Then he added another chunk of wood to the fire, "And you're not a regular but you've been here three nights in a row."

"My sister Nesta comes here a lot, you probably know her." Elain said almost too quickly.

"So last night didn't scare you off? You've decided to really start living the college party life."

"Should I have let it scare me?" she chose to ignore the other part of his question. "I told you before," she looked at him, "I'm full of surprises. I'm not some lame nice girl."

"I didn't say that," he said.

They halted at her car, "Oh I forgot, girls like me should stay at home and bake cookies."

"I didn't say that either,"

"You didn't have to!" She began fumbling with her keys, "I might look like every other star struck bimbo that walks into your bar but you've got another thing coming buddy."

She looked back up from her key to find him smirking at her. Seriously he was infuriating, she was beginning to wonder how he got girls to hook up with him so often. "You love putting words in my mouth don't you sweetheart?"

"I know you're thinking it." She popped the door to her minivan open but still stood outside the car.

"You're right," he admitted, "You're not like all of the other bimbos that walk into my bar every night."

She raised her eyebrows at him, "Gee, that's great."

"That's not a bad thing," he said taking a step towards her. And suddenly that helpless feeling returned to Elain. Her bones felt shaky, she needed to sit down and just as she was about to speak he beat her to the punch, "Tell me something Elain," She almost trembled at the first time she heard him say her name.

"How old are you really?"

"Twenty," she said.

He began to chuckle again, "Oh honey, you're just a kid."

"What!" she said completely outraged again, the helpless feeling almost gone, "I am not! What are you like 22?"

"23," he corrected her.

"Whatever," she said her hands flying up in the air, "I'm not a kid."

The half-smile had stopped being cute by now and was just plain irritating, "Whatever you say,"

"Don't do that," she snarled,

"Do what?"

"Condescend to me."

His mouth formed an "oh", "Oh I've done it now, Nice College girl is whipping out that big vocabulary."

"You're an ass, why don't you go back to work and serve up beer and greasy hot wings."

When she turned to get into her car his hand clasped itself around her bicep, "Hey," he said pulling her back to face him, "The wings aren't greasy, " Earlier she might at have laughed at that, except his expression was unreadable again. His russet eyes dropped to her lips.

Oh my god, she thought, he's about to kiss me!

She was about to have her first kiss, she wasn't about to count the creep from the night before. Even Mor said she couldn't count that as her first kiss, and here she was 24 hours later about to have her first kiss with the guy who saved her.

He moved toward her again until his head dipped and his lips brushed against hers. It wasn't fast, not like in those cheesy romance novels where the two lovers made out with enough passion to ignite the sun. No, it was soft and it was sweet, and it made her blood rush throughout her body. His hands reached up and cupped her cheek, cradling it like she was about to fall apart. It was so intimate, so real, she could hardly believe she wasn't dreaming.

For a moment, she thought it was over. He pulled back and looked at her, there was fire dancing in his eyes as he assessed her reaction. His hands still cradled her cheeks, his thumbs even brushed against them. So gentle. So caring. No, this couldn't be a dream.

And then his mouth was on hers again, this one was more tentative, rough than the last one and yet still so caring. Delicious lived up to his name, his mouth tasted like pure deliciousness. His tongue traced the entrance of her lips, letting him inside she gripped his shoulders. Her fingers curled themselves into his shirt, engorging herself in his taste.

As if all at once it was over, she staggered back feeling a loss of body heat between them. His hands still held her face and his forehead rested against hers before smirking before her again, "Get home safe sweetheart," he said before leaving her and going back into Illyria. Not another word, not even another glance back.

So Elain did just that, drove home without second thought.

She wasn't interested in a relationship with this guy.

Right?