“Ella, you need to loosen up. When was the last time you really let your hair down?”
“You mean my hair full of silver glitter?” I say sarcastically and chew my lip. “Well, let’s see—I dated a tax attorney for eighteen months, so I’d say about one day longer than that.”
“Your hair looks great. It really sparkles under the lights. You’re due for a fun night out,” Jenn says. “We’ll even give you first dibs.” She pounds the high-top.
“I am not dancing on the table.”
“Not yet maybe. But after three or four drinks …”
“Not ever.”
A waitress comes by, and I order three margaritas.
“Make it six,” Jenn says. I give her a hard stare. “What? She might not get back for a while.”
I hear screaming coming from the front door.
“Looks like the band is here,” Krista says.
I crane my neck. “Where?”
“They probably won’t come in through the front. Hopefully they’ll stick around after.” She pulls up her lightweight sweater, exposing a tight tank top. “I want all the guys to sign this.”
I shake my head at both of them. “What have you done with my best friends?” They laugh and hug me.
Krista gets out her phone. “Which one do you want? You can pick anyone but Liam. That sex god is mine. Interesting fact. You two have the same last name.”
“I think Ella would look good with Garrett,” Jenn says.
“Which one is he?”
“Tats.”
My eyes widen. “That’s a lot of tattoos on his arm.”
Krista giggles. “Makes you wonder where else he’s got them.”
I study the men in the picture. “If I were forced to choose, I’d take this one.”
“Good choice. His name is Crew. Singer. Hot.” She fans herself.
“What about you, Jenn? Who would you choose?”
“Brad, for sure.” When Krista isn’t paying attention, Jenn leans close. “I lied. It’s totally Liam, but I can’t say that in front of her.”
Half a dozen drinks are placed on our table. We all reach for one.
“To Reckless Alibi,” Krista says. “May we all be lucky enough to take one of them home tonight.”
I clink my glass to theirs and drink, even though that’s not at all what I want.
It’s been fourteen days since I left the cheating bastard. I’m not about to invite another train wreck into my bed. I’m done with men. I’ll focus on the three things most important to me: friends, work, and running. At twenty-three, I don’t need or want to be tied down. I plan to enjoy the freedom Rat Bastard afforded me by screwing his nineteen-year-old neighbor. I’m too young to be in a long-term relationship. I wasted enough time as it is.
“Ella!”
I turn to see both of them staring. “What?”
“Where’d you go?” Krista asks.
Jenn’s smile fades. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you? Stop it.” She pushes my drink closer to my lips. “You promised you’d try and have a good time. You deserve to have fun.”
I sigh heavily. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I down a few gulps, making a face at the tartness.
Half an hour and two drinks later, the crowd goes ballistic as the band takes the stage. I again gape at my friends as if aliens have invaded their bodies.
Now that I’m feeling a bit tipsy, however, I get into the music as they play. They’re good. It’s hard not to swing my hips to the beat. The male singer—what’s his name, Crew?— and his female counterpart are stunning together. I wonder if they’re a couple. Krista and Jenn don’t seem to notice what I do, or maybe they don’t care. They’re too busy drooling over the men on stage.
Occasionally the one playing guitar glances at our table. Every time he does, Krista screams, “Oh, my God, he’s looking at me!”
When he does it again, I watch him closely, unsure what he’s looking at. I turn to see what’s behind me—it’s a wall. When I look back at him, our eyes lock, and he rewards me with an irresistible and devastating smile. Oh, gosh. It’s not her he’s looking at, it’s me. I’m sure it’s the hair. Jenn said it sparkles when lights hit it.
Shortly after the band takes a break, a tray of drinks arrives. “From the guitar player,” the waitress says. “You lucky girls.”
Jenn and Krista squeal like teenagers.
“Do you think this means he wants to take me home with him?” Krista asks.