by L. L. Ash
She took a bite of the colorful strip and smiled at me.
“I’m Ivy. And yeah, I love Yu-Gi-Oh. Who doesn’t?”
Yep, we’d definitely be friends.
- 28 -
Ivory
“What do you mean you can’t come?” I practically shrieked into the phone.
“Dammit, Ivory, I’m so sorry! It’s either this or I lose my position here, and you know I need this job. Dad won’t pay for my schooling if I can’t hold down a job, and I can’t afford the tuition on my own! I’m so sorry! I know you can never forgive me for this!”
Hillary was practically in tears as she called me up, telling me the bad news that her shitty boss had scheduled her to work an extra shift without telling her. Hillary had even traded her shift to another coworker to make sure she had the day off, then her boss stuck her with a shift, anyway.
With a heavy sigh, I nodded, even though she couldn’t see it.
“It’s ok, Hil, I get it. I’m not mad, and of course I forgive you! I’ll never forgive your boss though.”
“But you only turn twenty-one once, and I’m going to miss it! It was supposed to be us tonight, drinking the night away for the first time and finding a couple cuties to dance with.”
Yeah, I knew that.
“We’ll still do it,” I promised. “Maybe this weekend?”
She sighed right into the speaker and I heard the whole thing in my ear.
“Right. I’m so sorry, Ivory. This sucks.”
“It does. Kick your boss in the vag for me, will you?”
She scoffed, probably wishing she actually could.
“But you gotta do something still. Any other people you could go out with? What about the boy of the girl your dad’s dating?”
Shit, I forgot that I hadn’t told her.
I didn’t want to spill it all over a quick call, so I’d waited until I would be able to see her on my birthday. Hopefully after a couple drinks where she’d think it was funny instead of wanting to tear my hair out for waiting so long to mention it.
Too late for that now.
“He’s—”
“Ivory!” Dad called through my door, knocking three times.
“Shit, I gotta go. We’ll talk about that later. Over a drink or ten, ok?”
“Fine, but don’t think I’m going to forget. You’re hiding something! I just know it.”
Always the perceptive one.
We said goodbye and I called for Dad to come in.
“When are you taking off tonight?” Dad asked me, looking over the mess of makeup and outfits I’d already lined up for my outing that evidently wasn’t happening.
“I’m not,” I admitted. “Hillary just called and she couldn’t get off work. We’ll have to go another day.”
“What?” he asked. “You have to go out. It’s your birthday!”
Like I didn’t know that already.
“Who’s going out?” Hunter asked, peeking over Dad’s shoulder with curious eyes.
“She’s saying she’s not going out,” Dad scoffed. “And I call bullshit on that. I’ll go with you!”
Dad didn’t even wait for an answer before heading determinedly to get ready to go.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Hunter called, clamping his hand on Dad’s shoulder to stop him. “No offence, big man, but no kid wants to go drinking with their parent for the first time.”
“You got any better ideas?” he asked, quirking his brow at our new roommate.
“I’ll go,” Hunter said evenly, with a casual shrug of his shoulder.
It wasn’t very nice on my end, but hell, I couldn’t not laugh.
“You got a problem with that?” Hunter asked, doing the eyebrow quirk that matched Dad’s perfectly, which was a little creepy, to be honest.
“You could always go with Penelope,” Dad tried now. “If you wanted some girl time—”
“That’s ok,” I squeaked. “I’ll go with Hunter. I’m sure he knows the best places.”
He probably did, but that wasn’t why I chose him. I wouldn’t be able to manhunt with Dad or Penelope around.
Actually, Penelope would probably act as my sidekick to get me laid, which was almost worse, in a way. At least I could ditch Hunter without feeling bad, because he would likely be in his own pursuit of entertainment for the evening.
“You sure?” Dad asked looking into my eyes as if he could detect...something there.
Uncertainty, maybe.
“Yep,” I told him. “And Hunter’s buying my first couple rounds.”
Hunter glared playfully at me, but Dad smiled at me, like he was proud that I was squeezing a few pennies out of my new step-sibling.
“Alright. But make sure your phone is charged, and keep me updated tonight, ok?”
I nodded and started closing the door.
“Alright, well, if we’re going out, I’m going to get dressed and put on some makeup.”
Dad nodded and took off down the hall.
Hunter stuck around, though, leaning against my door frame which stopped me from closing it.
“Why are you worried about makeup? It’s just gonna run and smear four or five drinks in. Besides, you don’t need it.”
What a compliment. I think.
“Why? You trying to keep guys from hitting on me?”
A wicked grin split his perfect lips.
“Makeup or not, nobody’s touching you tonight.”
God, I wished he added a simple, ‘except for me’ to the end of that sentence.
“Not while you’ve been drinking, anyway.”
“How decent of you,” I drawled.
He shrugged.
“I’m an exemplary gentleman. What can I say?”
I scoffed and closed the door until it hit him on the shoulder.
“I see you can use a couple lessons in being a lady, though,” he snarked.
I opened the door again and slammed my closed fist against the offending shoulder.
Hunter laughed, but he seemed to get the hint.
“Yeah yeah,” he grumbled, turning away to walk into his own room. “If we’re having a contest to see who’s hottest, then challenge accepted.”
With a smirk, I winked at him.
“You’re never going to win out against a pair of boobs. So I’ll accept the challenge.”
He grinned and I watched as he winked at me.
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”
I gagged at the nickname and he laughed before closing his door on me.
Challenge on.
- 29 -
Ivory
Dad and Penelope stared at us with shock on their faces when Hunter and I left our rooms at seven sharp.
“You two going to a strip joint or something?” Dad demanded, eyeing the inch of naked skin between my top and jeans with disgust on his face.
Poor guy didn’t know what to do with a full grown woman for a daughter.
Hunter lifted an eyebrow.
“Actually, that's not a bad idea,” he said, which made dad legit scowl at him.
Hunter just laughed.
“We’re not going to a strip club,” I told Dad, scowling at Hunter.
Dammit, he looked good.
Wrapped in a pair of tattered jeans that stuck to his butt like latex, he looked like a freaking model. Not to mention that when he moved this way or that, it highlighted his package nicely. With a tight t-shirt underneath his unnecessary leather jacket, he would give me a run for my money on our competition of who was sexier.
Good thing my girls looked big and perky in my pushup bra, peeking out of my slinky silver tank top.
“Gotta go,” Hunter said while Dad just stood there scowling. “I’m hungry!”
Dad and Penelope didn’t say anything, so I just hurried my ass up and followed him right out the door.
“Keep me updated!” Dad called behind us while I headed on over to Baby, digging my keys out of my pocket.
“What the hell are you doing, Iv
y?” Hunter called as he headed the opposite way as me.
“Uh, driving?” I called back. “You plan on walking there?”
He flicked his hand, waving me over.
Really? We had to walk somewhere because we were going to drink? Why didn’t we just get a cab?
Orrrr...not.
The roar of Hunter’s motorcycle hit my ears just as I rounded Dad’s truck and I saw him revving the engine.
“C’mon sweetheart,” he called to me, knowing the nickname annoyed the shit out of me.
Putting my keys back into the pocket of my skin tight skinny jeans, I frowned as I stared down at him, looking sexy as hell on his bike.
Well, if you can’t beat them, join them.
Flinging my leg over the bike, I did a little hobble-hobble-shimmy before Hunter just laughed and pulled me on, directing my leg over the hump of the bike right behind his ass.
“Hold on tight, baby girl,” he told me, barely giving me enough time to dig my nails into his jacket before we went flying down the road.
I screamed, my hair flying everywhere behind me as Hunter continued to laugh at me. His eyes were covered in big sunglasses, but the wind was whipping over my face, forcing me to dig my body into his back so it didn’t sting so much when my hair whipped my cheeks and eyes like little needles.
Luckily the ride wasn’t very long. We pulled into the parking lot of a hipster bar not far from home. I mean, Malibu wasn’t that big, and since it was a big vacation spot with the incredible beaches, there were hotels in abundance, which meant bars everywhere.
This bar was adjacent to a snazzy-looking place with just a couple dozen rooms, but it wasn’t directly on any beaches, which meant that less tourists would be around. Hunter slid off the bike, then offered me a hand, which I gratefully took because my seat was like, four feet off the ground.
Not bothering to let go, he led me into the bar where we were met with the balmy upper crust of society. Rich kids and their haughty attitudes were already filling the place with absurdly expensive cologne and the smell of desperation. Damn, I had almost forgotten how much I hated the city.
We didn’t grow up poor, Hunter and I. No, on the contrary, compared to the rest of the world, we were probably pretty well off. The problem was, when the cost of living was so high, your buck didn't go nearly as far. So, unless you were absurdly wealthy, you were the poor kid, and you would be treated as such.
We didn’t get vacations, not that we’d have wanted to go on them with our shitty, non-existent parents, anyway. But, we didn’t get the fancy clothes that the other kids did, and we didn’t have the cars or the styles that were popular. Penelope and Dad did their best with what they had, but in Malibu, we never had enough to fit in.
That’s why, for so long, we’d just had each other, and it had been enough.
That bitter sting pricked my chest while I walked with Hunter into the bar. He chatted up the bartenders, both pretty girls that flirted and flashed their cleavage at him, and I just frowned.
I hadn’t given up the fight completely. I needed some boys to prove that I was just as sexy, if not more so, than Hunter-freaking-Hayes.
Looking around, I saw a table full of dudes that looked like they were just home from their jobs at the office. Which, of course, wasn’t the case, because these guys were my age, which meant they were college kids. One of them looked over at me, glanced at me from head to toe, then met my eyes with a smile on his face.
Well, it was really a leer, but he was at least trying to be nice.
I heard glass slide down the bar and finally turned, yanking my hand away from Hunter's since I’d kind of forgotten that he was still holding it.
“Happy birthday, kid,” he said, lifting a shot up to me.
“Gotta see some ID,” the bartender said quickly, interrupting Hunter.
He frowned.
“Can’t just take my word for it?” he asked her.
“My boss will skin me alive if I don’t,” she told him with an apologetic frown.
He sighed dramatically, but set the two shot glasses in his hands down as I started digging out my ID.
“There,” I said, holding it out to her.
She looked at it, then grinned.
“It really is your birthday, huh?”
I nodded.
“First one’s on the house, then,” she told me, sliding out another shot glass and filling it with something electric blue.
“Happy birthday!” she yelled, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Embarrassment stained my cheeks as I took the blue shot and pressed it to my lips, draining it down my throat in one swallow.
Oh GOD it stings!
Hacking on the drink, Hunter laughed at me, then handed me the shot he’d gotten for me.
“This is smoother,” he said. “Not like that bubblegum shit.”
I took the clear liquid, wondering if it was vodka or tequila, or maybe something else?
Without another thought, I downed that one at the same time as Hunter, and we slammed the glasses on the table together.
“Whew!” he called, enjoying the burn with a grin on his face.
It burned, sure, but it was slow, building in my throat in a sort of delicious way, like good heat from a pepper.
“Alright, let’s get her a cocktail, so she’s not throwing up before the hour’s up,” Hunter told the bartender, who laughed and turned to me.
“What do you want, sweetie?”
Dammit, what was it with everyone calling me sweetie?
“Rum and coke,” I told her.
“Highball,” Hunter added, and the woman got to work.
“So?” Hunter asked, fingering the shot glasses sitting on the bar, “What’s the plan for tonight?”
I shrugged.
“Well, what were you planning on doing with Hillary?”
“Probably sit and talk, and try to flirt with some guys.”
Hunter grimaced.
“I’m not flirting with dudes. I love you, but not that much.”
My throat immediately swelled up and threatened to choke me off with those three little stupid words.
Did he really love me, though?
Did he love me as a sister?
“Simple people, I like that,” our bartender said, interrupting my moment as she slid over two glasses, one almost black in color, and the other a soft amber that just about matched Hunter’s eyes.
He took his and sipped before looking out on the tables.
“Let’s get some food and we’ll talk about the rest of our planned activities,” he told me, already heading toward a booth at the back.
I glanced back over at the guys in suits and now two of them were watching me with smiles on their faces and expensive, craft beers in their hands.
“This place has awesome wings,” Hunter said, grabbing the table menu to examine it. “Burgers are good, too. They have that fancy lettuce and shit, and stinky cheese, though.”
“You been here a lot?” I asked him.
He looked up at me through his top lashes with a devilish grin on his face.
“My buddies and I used to come here junior and senior year. One of them got us all fake IDs and we’d get beers and spend way too much on fries and wings.”
Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he have had a fake ID?
“Bevvy went to school with us,” he said, pointing to the bartender who’d helped us. “My year, though. Don’t know if you remember her.”
I turned back to her and narrowed my eyes.
Did I know her?
Faintly, I could recall a dark haired girl who hung around Hunter and his group, but the tattoos and the face piercings were new. The short, baby bangs happening threw off my memory of her, too. It was definitely her though.
“Ah, I see why you come here,” I added, feeling a little bitter about her presence all of a sudden.
“For the wings?” he asked, lifting a curious eyebrow.
“For the free after dinner act
ivities,” I snipped, which just made him smile.
“Never slept with Bevvy,” he told me, obviously amused at my show of jealousy.
“Oh, really?”
Well shit, now I felt like crap.
“Nope. We were never into each other. In fact, she only hung out with us because Janene was inseparable with Gauge, and she wanted some of that ass.”
“Gauge?” I questioned.
Who would want that pompus asshole’s dick?
He shook his head.
“No. Janene’s.”
Ohhhh.
Well, shit.
Hunter watched the understanding roll over my face with his special brand of mocking amusement, then he sipped his drink again and turned back to the menu.
“So...wings?”
“I heard you say something about fries,” I said, happy to leave that conversation behind.
Evidently I was a jealous bitch with a guy that wasn’t even mine.
Of course.
Bevvy, the bartender, moved on over to us and placed a drink on our table.
“Boys over there heard it was your birthday. They wanted to send their warm wishes,” she said with a wink.
Setting a bright green martini glass with a granny smith apple slice on top, she grinned, then walked away.
I turned and looked over the back of the booth where now all four guys were watching and grinning. One even lifted his hand to wave.
“You’re even with a fucking dude and they’re hitting on you?” Hunter demanded.
“You admit that you lose?” I asked him.
He narrowed his eyes on me, then the other guys, before going back to his drink.
“This is bullshit.”
I laughed at his displeasure. Victory tasted so sweet!
“When do we decide the winner?” I asked him.
A gaggle of women strolled in through the door and Hunter’s frowning mouth twisted up into a wicked grin.
“When we’re ready to go, you can admit defeat,” he told me, then got up with the menu in his hands.
Cheater!
He went over to Bevvy, who happened to be getting the new girls’ drinks along with the other bartender as Hunter approached.
The stupid girls started falling all over themselves for a glance at his James Dean inspired look, and I hated them all instantly.
