Page 2 of All Her Broken Pieces

“First, you knock me over, then you insult me with sarcastic nicknames. Your mom clearly raised a gentleman,” I retort. Despite the irritation, I can’t deny he’s hot as fuck with that dimple, but I’ll be damned if I let him know that. And I don’t need rescuing, just a pair of shoes with a smaller heel.

His grin falters, and an emotion I can’t quite place screws up his features briefly before the smile returns. “I didn’t bump into you, that was my friend Alyx. He was in a rush to grab the booth behind you, but I apologize on his behalf. And I’m sorry for the joke. I was raised better, I promise. Can I buy you and your friend a drink to make it up to you?”

I glance at Alyx, happily planted in the booth. Hell, Alyx is cute too, with brown eyes, dark brown hair, and light mocha-colored skin covered in tattoos. He flashes a panty-dropping smile before turning to flag down a server.

“I’m Ethan, by the way. Since we’ve established that you aren’t Grace, do I get the pleasure of learning your actual name?”

“Her name’s Bridget, and I’m Becka, and we’d love a drink,” my traitorous friend pipes up. Great, now I need to addfind a new best friendto my ever-growing to-do list. It’s a shame. It took me years to break this one in.

“I have a good feeling about him,” she whispers in my ear.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Ethan smiles again, and that damn dimple makes another appearance. His smile is as smooth as his skin. He’s got to be in his twenties, but it’s hard to tell if it’s early twenties or late because of the lighting in the club.

Becka turns toward the circular booth and slides in next to Alyx as I follow behind her. Ethan sits beside me, his arm resting on the back of the booth behind me. His clean scent fills my nostrils, and there’s something familiar about it that I can’t place.

The server comes by, and Ethan hands over his card to open a tab. Clearly, he’s old enough to drink, so I’ll call that a win. “What would you ladies like? It’s on me.”

“I’ll take a gin and tonic, and Bridget will take a bourbon neat,” Becka says.

“Put it on my tab,” Alyx says to the server as he hands Ethan back his card. “It’s the least I can do since I’m the ass who bumped into you and your pretty friend.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but her pretty friend is only the wing-woman.” Becka points at her wedding band.

“My bad. Can’t blame me for trying, though,” he says, batting his lashes.

“If this is your game, I have to admit it’s not bad.” I point at Alyx. “You bump into the target so your friend here can catch them as they fall and swoop in like Prince Charming.”

“Shit, sorry. We’ve been circling like vultures all night, trying to find a table. My bad.” His eyes look so sincere, and it’s hard to believe either of them did anything intentional.

“Your game must be off if you’re going to clubs only to sit down all night. We can get away with it because of our fashionable footwear choices. What’s your excuse?” I ask.

“Feisty! I like it.” Alyx flashes that grin again. “I’ve been trying to get my man Ethan here to come out with me, but it’s like trying to bathe a stray cat who fights you at every turn.”

Ethan and Alyx exchange glances, and I can tell they are having a telepathic conversation before Ethan chuckles and turns to me. “Alyx exaggerates. This isn’t really my scene. I just prefer a quiet night in most nights.”

“Or every night,” Alyx mutters right as the server drops off our drinks.

I raise an eyebrow at Ethan. “A quiet night in, huh?”

“I find it hard to make a real connection in places like this,” he confesses. “Everyone’s too caught up in the chaos to appreciate the quiet moments.”

I take a sip of bourbon, the liquid burning down my throat. The contrast between Ethan’s preference for quiet nights and my intentional plunge into chaos isn’t lost on me. He’s the calm sea sailors crave while I’m the tempest stirring up wreckage in my wake.

“We’re here to celebrate her birthday,” Becka tells them. I groan internally.Be cool, girl, don’t scare them off too soon.

Actually, this is good. If he’s scared of my age, this won’t work out anyway.

“Happy birthday,” Ethan and Alyx chime in together, most likely out of obligation.

“Thanks. It was two days ago, but who goes out on a Wednesday night?” I swirl the remaining liquid in my glass.

“How many candles are we blowing out?” Alyx inquires. “Ouch!” He whines after Ethan kicks him under the table.

“It’s not cool to ask people that, bro,” Ethan mutters.

“It’s fine. I turned thirty-eight.”

“So other than a birthday, what brings you to the club tonight?” Ethan asks, inching closer to me so our thighs touch.

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