Page 11 of Starstruck
Maybe it’s because that day, she looked as empty and broken as I did when I lost my mom.
Whatever it is, it’s like we’re kindred spirits—something in my soul recognizes something in hers.
Which must explain how I ended up in the doorway of the very bar she was already drinking in, probably trying to drown her sorrows after that hearing the same way I’m planning to drown mine.
Here’s hoping we can drown in each other instead.
I linger in the entrance for a moment, just watching her. She’s wearing a form-fitting navy-blue dress and nude heels, looking every bit the professional woman I’m sure she is.
That is, until she swigs back a shot of brown liquid before slamming her glass down on the counter.
I chuckle to myself when she waves the bartender over. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can tell by the way his eyes linger a moment too long on her chest that he’s trying to pick her up.
She turns him down, though, if the way his face shifts from interested to insulted is any indication. His jaw clenches as he turns to walk away, but just as I’m about to take a step closer, he turns to her again.
I clench my fists, preparing to make him back down if he won’t listen to her. Except the next thing I know, he’s placing the less than quarter-full bottle of brown liquid—whisky, as the bottle suggests—on the bartop in front of her. With a nod, he leaves to tend to the guy at the other end of the bar.
I smirk. Even though she’ll probably dismiss me the same way she did him, I can’t stop myself from approaching the stool next to her.
I have to know this woman.
[4 ]
FAVOURITE MISTAKE
LENNON
“TROUBLE” BY JJ WILDE
“Another,” I demand, slamming my glass down on the bartop at Astro Bar and Grill.
The bartender comes over, pouring another shot of whisky into my glass—my third one in thirty minutes.
“Thanks,” I remark dryly before swigging that one back too. It burns going down, just the way I like it.
I can’t fucking believe he pleaded not guilty. Whoever the fuck Logan Jameson is, his parents did not raise him right. How anyone in their right mind can plead not guilty after killing two people and then try to hit on their daughter is absolutely beyond me.
After I left Dylan and Paige at the courthouse, I wound up here. I figured the best way to forget the day was to drown myself in some alcohol, and maybe a hot guy, if I’m lucky.
You’d think my parents being killed by a drunk driver would deter me from wanting to drink, but if anything, it’s made me want to even more. I’m always smart about it when I do, but it really is the best way for me to forget about everything awful inmy life and just enjoy myself for a little while.
It’s become a reprieve from the prison my mind has become. And right now, I’ll take every reprieve I can get.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing drinking alone on a Monday afternoon?” the bartender asks, his eyes scanning me. He’s cute, but unfortunately for me, he’s not my type.
I roll my eyes. “I know most people come here to talk to you about their problems, but that’s not what I’m here for.”
“Fine by me.” He smirks. “I’m Parker.”
“Nice to meet you, Parker,” I snark. “I’mnot interested.”
He narrows his eyes slightly before relenting. At least he’s a man who knows how to take no for an answer.
“Wait,” I say as he turns to leave.
He turns back to me, a hopeful look in his eyes.
I look from him to the whisky bottle with maybe two shots left in it and add, “Just leave the bottle,” as I place a hundred-dollar bill down on the counter top.
