Wrecked (Clayton Falls) - By Alyssa Rose Ivy Page 0,9
It paid well and had great hours—both things I needed.
She laughed. “Is he at least cute?”
“Very. And in my defense, he knows you.”
“He knows me?” She pointed at her chest.
“He’s from Clayton Falls. Jake Mathews.”
She dropped a strawberry from her fruit salad back onto her plate. “Jake Mathews? Are you serious?”
“I take it you remember him?”
“Of course, I remember him. He was the star quarterback.”
I poured a little bit more dressing on my salad. “Again with football? Is that all he did?”
“Did he win you over by reminiscing about his glory days?” She laughed.
“Not exactly. It just came up when we were discussing how fast he heals.”
“How fast he heals? Did he also ask you to kiss him and make him better?”
I crossed my arms. “It wasn’t like that. I don’t know why I did it. I just found myself giving my number to him.”
She took a bite of her club sandwich. “Weirdness that you like my old high school heartthrob aside, maybe you’re finally ready to get back out there.”
“Maybe. I doubt he’ll even call. I know it was all a macho act anyway.”
“Yeah, because that’s the only reason a guy would ask for your number.” She rolled her eyes. “Why was he in the ICU? I guess that should have been my first question…but the romance was more interesting.”
“Car accident… DUI.”
“What? A DUI? Aren’t you the most anti-drinking and driving person?”
“I know, I know. I just keep thinking there’s a reason for it.”
“You know what you’re doing. Don’t use him as a project. Not everyone needs saving…”
“I know.”
“I still can’t believe you gave your number to Jake Mathews… it’s a small world.”
“I bet you he won’t call.” I put my fork down. I wasn’t hungry anymore.
“You never make bets.”
“There’s always an exception.”
“Wow…next you’re going to tell me you want to go out tonight.” She tied up her long, brown hair.
“I would if I didn’t have to work, but maybe tomorrow night.”
Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I think I’m finally ready.”
“Hallelujah. Now we just have to get you something to wear.”
“I have plenty of clothes.”
“Not to go out in.”
“Says who?” I took another sip of lemonade.
“Me. We’re going shopping.”
“Now?”
“As soon as you finish that salad.”
“All right, I’m in.”
***
It had been ages since I’d been out. Free time wasn’t a luxury I’d had since high school, and it had been over two years since I’d graduated. I checked my reflection in the mirror for the millionth time. Mel had assured me that I looked hot in the short, black dress, but I wasn’t sure if hot was what I was going for. I glanced at my watch—Mel was going to be there to pick me up any minute. I didn’t have time to change.
“Hey, hot stuff.” Mel grinned as I slid into the passenger seat of her Camaro. She was an adolescent boy’s—or, okay, most men’s—wet dream perched behind the wheel. Her short skirt left little to the imagination. Neither did her top.
“Hey, yourself. I can’t believe I let you talk me into wearing this.”
“Come on, Em. It’s time you learned to dress and act your age. No one needs you tonight. You can have fun. I’m the designated driver.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind driving you home.”
“Which one of us can have more fun sober?”
I laughed. “Okay, good point.”
Mel parked a few blocks from a club she’d been raving about for weeks. She’d been twenty-one for only a few months, and was still enjoying the freedom. I’d only been twenty-one a few weeks, but it wasn’t as big a deal to me.
We showed our IDs to the bouncer and walked in. I had to steady myself for a second—slightly overwhelmed by the crowd and the pulsating music.
“What should we get to drink?” Mel took my hand and led me over to the bar. If she hadn’t, I might have bolted.
“I thought you weren’t drinking?”
“I’m having one. Just one.”
“Okay. Maybe a Malibu and pineapple.”
“Good.” She pushed her way to the front of the bar, and got the male bartenders attention quickly.
She handed me my drink and raised hers in a toast. “To Em’s reentry into the world.”
I laughed. “I’ve been living in the world this whole time.”
“But never having fun. Living means fun.” She nodded toward a couple of guys who were obviously checking us out. “They look like fun. Which one do you want?”
I sipped my drink. “Neither. I’m not hooking up with some random guy.”
“Who said anything about hooking up? You’re not ready for that yet. Let’s start with