“Throw something,” Molly whispered.
“No,” Ellie whispered back, “kiss him.”
I turned and glared at both of them. “I swear to God—”
Jace chuckled. “See? They’re rooting for me.”
“Stop enjoying this,” I snapped. “You think a couple dozen flowers and this chaotic circus in my front yard is gonna make me forget what you did? Nothing will ever make me forget how much it hurt when you walked out my front door. So take your grand gesture and go use it on someone else. I’m sure the waitress at Maggie’s would eat this shit up.”
“I don’t want the waitress at Maggie’s,” he shot back, jaw tight. “I want you.”
“Well,” I said, lifting my chin, “we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
Chapter 21 – Cassie
“Has Jace let up off the gas any yet?” Ellie asked, refilling a customer’s coffee mug.
“I wish. Yesterday I came home to a framed picture of us at the Grizzlies game. On Wednesday he left the only Fleetwood Mac vinyl I didn’t have to complete my collection on my counter. I have absolutely no idea how he managed to get his hands on that. Tuesday he had lunch delivered here while you were off. It was my favorite dish from Maggie’s with a note that said,‘Don’t forget to take care of yourself too, when you’re busy taking care of everyone else.’”
“All those thoughtful gifts, and you’re still not ready to give him a second chance? Not even a little bit?”
“Absolutely not. He broke my heart, El. The last time I was that heartbroken was the night my dad left. I refuse to put my heart on the line like that ever again. I’m swearing off men for good.”
Ellie handed the refilled cup of coffee back to the customer waiting by the counter. “If you say so.”
“What are your plans for tonight?” I asked, because tonight was Halloween—one of my favorite holidays, even as an adult.
“Colt and I are taking June trick-or-treating downtown. Do you want to come with us?”
“I already accepted Molly’s invite to the Twisted Spur.”
The Twisted Spur hosted their annual Halloween Night every year. It was like trick-or-treating—but with alcohol. The only rule? You had to wear a costume to get in.
Last year, I’d gone as Wonder Woman. This year I felt more daring, so I decided to spice it up and go as a Playboy Bunny. A few lemon drop shots, and honestly, I wouldn’t care what I was wearing anyways.
After a long day of coffee orders, I hurried home eager to try on my new costume. Tonight was exactly what I needed to get my mind off Jace and his annoying antics.
I stood in front of my floor-length mirror, checking every detail. The black fishnets hugged my thighs perfectly, the satin corset clung in all the right places, and the bunny ears were the cherry on top. I smoothed down my outfit, tilted my head, and gave myself a slow once-over.Damn, I looked good.
I pulled into the gravel lot of the Twisted Spur a few minutes later, the hum of music and voices spilled out the front doors, making my pulse pick up.
Molly:I’m already inside! Hurry!
I practically sprinted across the lot, trying not to roll my ankle in the black stilettos I was wearing. Passing the bouncer after flashing my ID, I stepped into the buzzing atmosphere, the scent of vodka and cinnamon hitting me instantly.
I quickly spotted Molly at the bar, saving a spot for me with her purse. She’d decided to dress as a sexy pirate. Her costume was daring and flirtatious, but a lot less revealing than mine.
I slid onto the barstool just as the bartender approached. “Lemon drop, please,” I ordered, knowing it would be the first of many to come.
Molly looked around. “Do you feel like there’s more people here than last year?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” I said, taking in the fact that there were almost twice as many people as last year’s party. I guess word had spread around that this was the place to be onHalloween if you were of drinking age and not afraid to wear a costume.
After a few minutes, Molly and I were on our second lemon drop shots, courtesy of some onlookers at the bar who bought us another round. We downed the sweet, tangy liquor, then hit the dance floor.
The crowd was packed in like sardines, everybody moving to the pulsing beat. Molly and I laughed, swaying our hips in perfect sync with the music.
“Those guys from the bar are walking over here,” she said, still moving with the rhythm. I turned as they approached. They were both older, probably in their thirties, tall, polished, and definitely gave off city-slicker vibes. They looked nice enough but weren’t really my type.
