PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
Lo
Twenty-three
“Come on, we’re going to be late,” my best friend and roommate, Clementine, complains.
“I’m coming.” I tug on the sleeves of my borrowed dress and wrinkle my nose at my reflection. “Keep your damn panties on.”
“You look fine. Besides, I thought the plan was to get me laid, not you?”
“It is,” I agree, and give myself a once over in the mirror: black scuffed combat boots, boho faded floral dress that reaches my mid-calf, and long, tousled waves of pastel blue hair. My eyes are yellow gold, and with smoky eyeliner, cherry lips, and crazy hair, I look a little like a forest nymph. A forest nymph who, under no circumstances, is going to get laid tonight.
I’d had my share of drunken one-night stands. I’d had enough to last a lifetime—okay, so maybe not in the last four months—but penis was strictly off limits for my vagina right now. She had a tendency to not make the best decisions when it came to pairing lonely evenings with tequila, and tonight was a no-go zone. I was not going to fall prey to penis again. Penis could go fuck itself for all I cared.
I shrug at my appearance and allow Clementine to grab my hand and drag me through the room. I spot my big black felt hat on the coat rack by the door of our poky Venice Beach apartment, and I yank it from the hook and throw it on my head as I’m pushed through the door. It slams behind us with a resounding thud. I cringe, knowing that Mrs. Peterson from upstairs will likely be having kittens about now because of the noise.
Clementine glances at my hat with annoyance. “Why? Why the hat?”
I blow a strand of hair from my face and readjust the headgear in question. “I like this hat.”
It may be a little toomillennialfor Pete’s, but I really do like this hat. I have a head for hats, and besides, the brim is big enough to hide my face fromhim.
Clem shakes her head as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking, and grabs my hand, pulling me along the sidewalk behind her.
Pete’s is a Venice Beach institution, and I’ve worked for the ornery old bastard since I first moved to LA. Employees drink for free, I like my coworkers, and Pete is really a big teddy bear—so long as you don’t ask for a night off.
Some all-girl band is playing the stage when we walk in. They’re okay, but as much as I told myself the opposite was true, I’m not here tonight for the music. I let Clem talk me into this for one reason only—Nick the Dick.
We push through the throng of bodies and make our way to the bar.
Alex, our brawny manager who often doubles as security, bypasses several waiting customers and leans across the bar in front of us. “Missed me, huh?”
“In your dreams, numb nuts.” Clem rolls her eyes.
I twist my lips into a flirty smile. “Who says we’re not just here for the free drinks?”
He raises his brows in disbelief and grabs two glasses and a shaker. Filling it with a generous pour of tequila, margarita mix, and ice, he vigorously mixes our drinks, his huge biceps rippling and contracting with the movement.Show off. “You do know your ex is playing tonight, right?”
I frown and feign innocence. “He is? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Ah-huh. You two be good.” Alex winks as he salts the rim and pours our drinks before sliding them across the bar. I take mine, clink glasses with Clementine, and lick the salt from the lip.
“Always,” I say to Alex, who chuckles and moves off to serve another customer, his eyes on me the entire time.
Clem makes a gagging sound in the back of her throat. “Jesus, Lo. No wonder he’s hard up for you.”
“He is not. He’s just a coworker who likes to flirt.”
“Honey, no. That boy is one step away from kidnapping you and keeping you in his basement.”
“Pfft. Alex is harmless.” I turn away from the bar and push through the throng of bodies. “He’s ...” I stop dead in my tracks. “Oh shit.”
Clem bumps into me from behind, her drink sloshing over the sides of her glass and splashing my leg. “What the hell, Lo?”
I can’t answer her. I’m busy staring into a set of warm brown eyes I know too well.