When opposites attract and temptation lives next door.
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After life throws Fallon Davis a curveball, she finds herself living in a dingy apartment, single-parenting her 3 year old son, and working at the dive-iest dive bar in town. College seems li...
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Note to self: stop drinking on work nights.
Yeah, right. Like that would ever stick.
Especially when Yates scored a prime table at the Tryst on short notice last night. Thursday or not, it would have been a crime to waste that. Getting a private table there is like winning the lottery.
I still wasn't entirely sure why Max dragged us to that dive bar first, though. He said something about a hot waitress named Shayla, but she wasn't even working. And it was clear that our server didn't know him— nor did she want to.
Story of my brother's life.
Pushing the button on the fridge water dispenser, I filled my glass for a second time and slammed it back, draining it. I was about to go for a third when a polite but insistent whimper interrupted me. I looked down and Gus's smooshed-in French Bulldog face cafe into focus. He sat back on his haunches, peering up at me expectantly.
"Hey buddy," I croaked. Man, I was dehydrated. "You wanna go for a walk, huh?"
Gus started to dance in frenzied circles, his nails clicking against the white oak hardwood. Walks were his favorite, second only to belly rubs. Plus, I was sure he needed to go to the bathroom.
The only problem was, I thought I might literally be dying. Everything hurt. Even my hair.
Were emergency dog walkers a thing? Probably not.
I could make this happen... hopefully.
Gus followed me into my bedroom, panting with excitement. I was functioning at only about 20% capacity, so I grabbed last night's clothes off the floor and quickly threw them back on. Gross, but my head was throbbing too much to even consider any alternative course of action.
What happened last night? Maybe a bus hit me. I can't say for sure that it didn't.
Once Gus's leash was securely fastened, I grabbed a pair of aviators off the entryway table and stumbled out of my apartment, into an empty elevator. As the elevator car plunged down to the lobby, the two glasses of water I just drank threatened to resurface.
Fresh morning air greeted me outside, quelling the nausea to some degree, but it'd be awhile before I ate anything solid.
While Gus sniffed around in search of the perfect tree, I grabbed my phone and skimmed through my text messages for clues about last night. The first thing I remembered was drinking some imported gin at Caleb's house. He claimed it was rare, but it wasn't even that smooth. Then we hit up that hole-in-the-wall per Max. The last thing I remembered was shouting "I'm king of the world" from the moonroof of a limousine. The rest was blank.
My screen landed on a text from Alexis, my ex-girlfriend/sometimes-hookup/worst-nightmare. If that sounded like a mindfuck, that's because it was. No other way to put it.
