Page 34 of Third Time Lucky

Madi smiles softly, resting her hand on mine. ‘Are we ever ready to meet someone who might turn our world upside down and make us vulnerable?’

‘What?!’

She only shrugs.

Whose side is she on here? I thought we agreed that a dating pause was the right thing to do at this point in my life. I need to clear my head, heal my heart and evaluate what I want out of love. She’s supposed to give me good advice, and instead, she’s setting up booty call interviews and suggesting I be vulnerable.

‘Ladies… if I remember right, you two were cocktail drinkers? They don’t sell those here, but I pulled some strings,’ Aaron says, setting two tangerine-colored drinks before us. ‘Screwdrivers in fancy glasses. Because you’re pretty.’

Madi giggles. Seriously, like a schoolgirl.

‘That is adorable!’ she coos, snuggling into his side once he slides in beside her again. ‘You’re cute.’

Aaron lifts a shoulder, smirking my way. ‘That’s what my mom says, too.’

The way Madi looks at him explains her statement earlier. She likes him. And not just one-night-stand likes him either. She’s been thinking about him since Vegas, has him on the back burner by keeping him interested via text, and seems to be sincerely happy to see him. My God, have I lost her? Am I going to have to figure this out on my own?

10

LUCY

The evening air hangs around me as I approach the house, its facade softened by a gentle glow from the streetlights. The scent of fresh rain clings to everything, making the sidewalks shimmer under the silver touch of moonlight. Light spills from the kitchen windows, painting ethereal beams across ivy vines that cling persistently to the brick walls.

When I enter, I expect to find her in her usual chair, but Mitzi’s laughter isn’t there to greet me as it usually is, a subtle symphony that has become as much a part of this place as the weathered doorknob. Instead, I encounter only shadows and stillness, broken occasionally by the soft clinks of utensils in use from the next room.

‘Hello?’ I call out, hesitant considering I don’t know who I’m hearing.

‘It’s just me,’ a voice says gently.

As I walk in, Asher stands surrounded by a spread of ingredients and jars on the pristine white marble island. He’s here late.

‘Hey,’ he greets me, looking up briefly from his chopping board, his smile wide.

‘Hi. Where’s Mitzi?’ I ask, only slightly worried.

‘Said she was turning in early to watch her show.’

Laughing softly, I throw my purse onto the dining table and take a seat opposite him at the bar.

‘She’s obsessed with streaming services and has subscriptions to all of them. Did she tell you what show she’s currently binging?’

‘Nope.’

‘Multiple things, but mostly,Game of Thrones.’

He pauses mid-cut before shaking his head. ‘Damn. Mitzi’s braver than I am. Aaron tried getting me into it, and I barely stumbled through Season One.’

‘Same here! The cringe factor is high with that one,’ I commiserate. ‘Last year, she devouredSons of Anarchy– twice – because she’s head over heels for Charlie Hunnam.’

‘Well, who isn’t?’ Asher lofts with a hearty chuckle.

‘Did you know he’s British?’

He nods knowingly. ‘Yet he nails being an American biker far better than I’d ever manage.’

‘And you’ve actually got the tattoos!’

My eyes wander over the vibrant ink snaking out from beneath his shirt sleeves right down to his wrists – mysteries inked across skin, each one possibly holding a story untold. And secretly I wonder how far they might extend beneath that shirt. Yep, he’s beyond hot and now it’s all I see.

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