Page 46 of Lucky Penny
Fia glances between us like we’re bickering parents.
“We'll drive separately, then,” Penny suggests, and I shake my head.
This is where I lay my foot down.
“Misshas one vodka soda and is tipsy? I’m DD, like it or leave it.”
Penny looks pissed, but Fia pipes up before she can even respond. “Works for me!” She nearly skips to my black muscle car, and I unlock the doors, smirking at Penny in the dim evening light.
Checkmate.
Penny obliges, though she wears a scowl as she crawls into the seat next to me. I adjust the mirrors, making sure everyone is comfortable, before pulling out into the street.
I’d be lying if I said Penny’s presence in my passenger seat isn’t surreal as hell right now.
Ten years ago, this was all I dreamed about.Thiswas my dream car, and I worked my ass off after prison to be able to save for a down payment. I took the first tattoo apprenticeship I could get in LA and trained dogs every spare minute. I was working eighty-hour weeks just to stay afloat. Just to keep my mind off everything I left behind.
I got the dream car, but I never had my dream girl.
So seeing Penny look likethisin the front seat of my car fucks with my mind.
As I pull onto the dark street, the twinkle lights from nearby houses cast light on her face, and our eyes catch. She doesn’t look away right away.
She just looks at me like I’m fire that will burn her life down.
Nostalgia hits me like a ton of bricks the second I step inside Rebel Tavern behind the girls. It’s not even late yet—the band’s still setting up, and the crowd’s thin—but the air already smells like cheap beer and poor decisions. It’s been a long time since I’ve stepped foot into a dive bar like this, but they are all mostly the same.
I kind of dig how nothing has changed. The neon signs still buzz over the pool tables. The old dartboards sit in the dark corner, where college bros have pitchers of beer sloshing around. My boots still stick to the floor.
And one other thing’s still the same—every head turns when Penny walks in.
Only this time, I don’t get to wrap an arm around her, pull her close, and stake my claim.
This time, she’s not mine.
Penny and Fia follow me to the long wooden bar, and as I attempt to pull my credit card out, Penny beats me to it, sliding hers across to the bartender.
“First round is on me.” She doesn’t smile, but she’s standing so close to me I can smell her vanilla-scented hair and feel the heat coming off her body.
“Glad you don’t find me dangerous anymore,” I whisper in her ear, her hair brushing my lips.
Her shoulders snap tight, and those amber eyes find mine. A flicker of something passes between us. Maybe a memory, maybe regret, but it’s gone in a split second.
She hands Fia a pink fruity mocktail like nothing happened, and I grab my whiskey from the bartender.
“Cheers!” Fia lifts her glass, and we clink.
“Happy belated twenty-first Fia.” I nod, and she scrunches her nose.
“I hope no one judges me for being here.”
I lean down as the music gets louder. “Fuck ’em. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re allowed to have a little fun drinking your Shirley Temple, kid.”
She laughs as I hug her, and Penny watches us over her shoulder.
She smiles softly at me, but her eyes say something else. Something I can’t decipher.
But before she can say anything, the doors swing open and a rush of cold air and voices pour in. A large group of women floods the area around us, loud and already tipsy. I recognize the tall brunette immediately.
