With All My Broken Pieces by Octavia Jensen

Author:Octavia Jensen [Jensen, Octavia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CeliKetch Publishing
Published: 2022-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three:

Lucky

It takes two full weeks for me to work up the nerve to actually go to a bar. Some stupid, naive little part of me hoped that with Aaron back at Caroline’s, Ares wouldn’t be able to fight the pull between us — but he’s right back to barely talking to me.

So, I put on my favorite little red dress, some strappy heels I know I’ll regret later, and spend more time than I care to admit on my hair and makeup. The result has me grinning into the mirror as I turn slightly to check myself out.

I look good.

I feel good.

“Ares?” I call, grabbing my purse and stepping out into the hall. “You here?”

“Yeah?” he answers, seconds before yanking his door open, and I smirk as his eyes drop down to check me out.

“Nothing. Just wanted to make sure the dress was good enough, and it is. Is there a cover charge at Lucky’s?”

“What?” He finally manages to meet my gaze. “Um... no. It’s just a bar. Are you going alone?”

I nod. “It was either that or deal with Aaron when Caroline drags him along, and he’s cockblocked me enough lately,” I say unapologetically.

How much his jaw flexing affects me only cements how badly I need to get laid. “Yeah... he’s good at that. I... I have a deadline for the book I’m doing...”

“I know. You’ve mentioned that a couple of times this week, which is why I’m not asking you to go. Just needed to make sure I looked as good in this dress as I thought. Have a good night.” I smile, waving a little bit. “Don’t wait up.”

“Ivy,” he calls. “However you think you look, you look better. Be safe. Call me if you need me.”

As my stomach flips, I stay still, giving him an extra couple of heartbeats to make a move. When he doesn’t, I smile a little softer at him. “Thank you for the compliment, Hotshot. Be good to yourself tonight.”

I head down the stairs and don’t stop until I’m out the door, and only sheer force of will keeps my feet moving until I’m standing just inside Lucky’s.

It’s clear right off the bat that I don’t belong here, not in this dress, these shoes, this state of mind.

Lucky’s isn’t just a bar, it’s a dive bar, complete with creaky floors, dark corners, rock music on the jukebox and a bartender who looks like he’s staring at a ghost instead of a grown woman just trying to drown a problem or two.

“Can I get a rum and Coke?” I ask, trying to drown out the last few clacks of my heels against the floor.

“Mmhm... you from around here?”

I weigh the pros and cons of telling the truth, but don’t really come to a conclusion. “Sort of,” I compromise, taking the drink as he slides it to me. Here’s to you, Ares. “Haven’t been here before... clearly.”

“Clearly.” He nods at my dress. “Nice fit, though. Don’t get to see people dressed up often so it’s a nice change for me.

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