CHAPTER 1
Alondra
“He’s staring at you!”Macy yelps, grabbing onto my arm, causing me to jump.
“Macy, seriously?” I ask, looking at her in disbelief.What the hell is she talking about?
“That guy over there,” she says, pointing to a booth in the back, making it glaringly obvious that we’ve seen the guy with light brown hair and striking pale eyes. Even from all the way over here, I can tell he’s handsome. Yet, for some reason, he looks familiar, but I can’t put my finger on where I know him from.
His mouth curves at the corners, promising that everything about him is trouble I don’t need in my life. I look away, rolling my eyes as I order another beer. “He’s staring at you, hot stuff. You should go talk to him,” I suggest, as the bartender slides me another bottle, and I push the lime all the way through the top of the opening. Lime makes everything better, but anything is better than standing here sober while my cousin and best friend attempt to get over hernowex-boyfriend.
Realistically, they’ll be back together within a few days, but my hope is this time the breakup might stick. There’s definitely a reason everyone says the best way to get over someone is to getunder somebody else, and while I wouldn’t normally push her directly into the arms of another guy, anyone would be better than the pretentious prick she’s been stuck in this endless cycle with.
Maybe I recognize him from class, but if he’s the guy I’m thinking of, he’s usually flocked by girls. Right now, sitting at a table surrounded by guys, he doesn’t look quite as intimidating.
Macy scoffs, her shoulders slumping as I glance in her direction. “As if. Why don’tyougo talk to him?”
“Because I don’twantto. Tonight is about you.” I’m nowhere near ready to put myself out there again—I’m not sure if I ever will be. I think Bradley might have permanently broken the part of me that is capable of trusting another person.
I think Bradley might have broken me.
She rolls her dark eyes, framed by lashes I would kill for. “Al, it’s also about getting you out of your comfort zone, and let’s be realistic, he’s out of my league. You should go over there. It’s been almost a year since . . . you know? Maybe it’s time to get back in the saddle,” Macy suggests, and I take a long drink of my beer.
Yeah. I do know, but I’m not ready to have this conversation. I figured it was only a matter of time until she pressed the issue, but it’s not happening tonight.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I say, trying not to let it sour my entire mood. I reach forward to twirl one of her strawberry waves, succeeding in making her smile. “Macy, you’re hot as hell, and any guy would be lucky to have you, especially one who looks like him. Chad’s a fucking loser who never deserved you in the first place.”
“I’m definitely looking at him,” she muses, ignoring my comment about Chad. He’s the source of a lot of our arguments, and every time Macy convinces me to give him another chance, he shows exactly why I shouldn’t.
Macy has always struggled with her body image, and while she used to be quick to point out the things she saw as flaws, the therapist she saw in high school helped her fall in love with herself instead of constantly comparing herself to others. She eats healthily and exercises regularly, and while there are ups and downs, she seems to be doing at loving herself. Until Chad, anyway. There are more than a couple of reasons I hate him, but the biggest one of all is the way he makes her second guess herself. Also, who names their kid Chad? It’s almost like his parents were asking for him to grow up and be an asshole with that name.
I follow her gaze to the table where the guy is still watching us, and I grimace before turning back around to wait until I have the bartender’s attention again.
“Can I get two shots of vodka?” I ask once she looks my way, hoping a little liquid courage will do us both some good.
She nods, quickly pouring the shots as the music grows a little louder from someone in the back messing with the jukebox. “Thanks,” I say, smiling warmly at her.
“I should be thanking you. The guy at the end over there is refusing to get the hint I’m not interested because I keep serving him drinks,” she says, tilting her head in the direction of a guy who has the nerve to look more self-absorbed than the one at the table.
“Does he not realize it’s your job to pour the drinks?” Macy asks, a small dose of laughter slipping from her.
The bartender chuckles, sliding the shots in front of us. “Probably not. Men like to think the world revolves around them.”
Macy and I clink the tiny glasses together, but when I tilt my head back to down the shot in one go, she nudges me, causing some of the clear liquid to spill into my mouth before I’m ready. “He’s coming over here!” The liquor burns as it hits the back ofmy throat, and I sputter, coughing to clear it as she has the nerve to look at me confused when it’s her fucking fault I’m choking in the first place. “What’s wrong with you?” she whispers, just as a tall guy leans against the empty spot on the counter behind her.
I cough, blinking back the tears forming in my eyes.I’m going to murder Macy, and I won’t even feel an ounce of guilt over it.
“You okay?” he asks, tilting his head at me, and I hate seeing how much prettier he is up close.
“Perfect,” I answer, my voice a rasp as I clear it one more time. “Do you need something?”
“Can I buy y’all a drink?” he asks, his voice slow and smooth, oozing confidence with the added lilt of a subtle Southern accent, and Macy melts.
“No, thanks,” I say at the same time Macy nods.
She glares at me. “Al, be nice,” she scolds.
Fine. I paste the sweetest smile I can on my face, batting my lashes at him. “No, thank you.”
