My Lucky Days: A Novel (2 page)

“For how long?” I whispered.

“Well . . . I’m reworking some stuff.” His eyebrows bunched up as he slipped away, deep in thought. I waited for him to pull his cap off, tugging at his hair. “I’m not sure what that will mean yet. I have more options now. And I need to do some things different with my life.”

His words sent tremors under my skin. I couldn’t take another fallout with him. My heart almost didn’t recover last time. And maybe it never did. Big scars don’t go away.

The memories were still so very strong. We had shared so much together before it all fell apart. Our relationship had been fun and beautiful before it had turned sad and painful. But part of me could never let go of him. No matter how much it hurt. And that was okay when he was in another damn state.

The hospital room door opened as my coworker and friend Hannah fumbled with a couple of takeout boxes.

“I thought since you were messed up from the accident, you could take a break from your diet. I got your favorite hamburger from Shortcakes. And don’t worry. I made sure they put ranch in there with the tater tots . . .” Her voice faded out as she looked from me to the man standing next to my bed.

He chuckled. “Still eating tots and ranch?”

Our eyes locked as he said the words, my breath freezing in my lungs. It didn’t take much for both of us to remember the night he taught me to eat tots correctly. Shortcakes Diner had been his place until he had shared it with me.

“Hi.” She stepped closer, holding the boxes of food. “I’m Hannah.”

And then it happened. I knew the moment the look flashed across her face. “
Oh my gosh!
You’re um, you’re um. Landon Evans. But that can’t be. Why would you be here? I guess you could be here. I mean everyone knows that your family lives here, Landon. Or do I call you Mr. Evans?”

She continued to babble as I looked over at the guy who made women scream. He had never been
Landon Evans
to me. No, I had known the man way before he was ever some country superstar. To me, he would always be—

“Lucky.” He took the boxes from Hannah as his troubled smile was replaced with that famous grin. “My friends call me Lucky.”

Nine Years Earlier

T
he cold air hit me with a brutal fist as I walked down the sidewalk. My spandex black dress provided little warmth and the fishnet tights were not the fleece-lined leggings I had wanted to wear tonight. Instead, I was dressed in an actual cat costume.

“Come on, Katie. It’s not much farther.” My roommate Peyton wrapped an arm around my back, pulling me along as she kept her other hand on the front of her French maid outfit to keep it from flying up. This town was always so dang windy.

“I feel like a cat hooker—if that is even a thing.”

“Well, you are
totally
making it a thing tonight.” She laughed.

Another gust of wind hit us from the back. I swear it felt like January instead of October. “This is going to suck walking back later.”

“Who says we are walking back?”

“I am not going home with someone I met in a bar.”

“You don’t have to go home with anyone. Just have a little fun. Dance and have a few drinks. Flirt a little. Make out in a dark corner. That’s all.” She winked at me with her fake eyelashes.

I shook my head and laughed. The dusting of freckles across her face always made Peyton seem more innocent than the truth.

We walked past a couple of other bars on The Strip. A few students lingered outside the doors, staring as we hurried past them in the cold. And then I heard music spilling out into the street as we reached the next building. An old Edison bulb sign hung over the front door reading: D
USTY’S
S
ALOON
.

The bouncer asked for our IDs. Reaching down inside my knee-high boot, I pulled my license from the secret pocket. He looked skeptical at mine before waving us inside. I guess the cardigan-wearing girl in the picture didn’t look the same with cat ears and whiskers.

The smell hit me before the warmth. They had outlawed smoking in the place a few years ago, but the decades of cigarette use had soaked into the wood and walls, leaving the lingering scent of an old ash tray.

The bar was full, but not packed. I guess it was still considered early even though it was after nine. I did a quick survey of the room. I felt better, seeing most of the crowd dressed up tonight. I preferred to blend in and not stand out. Less attention just made everything easier.

Peyton grabbed my hand, luring me deeper inside the building toward the wooden dance floor. I tried to pull away from her. “I’ll just go find a seat somewhere.”

“No. You’re dancing. If we get over here by the floor, someone will ask. But you need to act like you want to dance. So smile,
sexy
kitten.”

“Okay. Fine.” I gave her a cheesy grin.

“That’s much better. Come on.” She pulled me out to where people were already dancing.

I felt awkward lingering on the floor like a giant arrow was pointed at my head. I might be dressed like the people in the room, but it didn’t mean I felt like I actually fit in. And then I was alone in plain sight as Peyton got whisked away by some guy in a pirate costume.

The uncomfortable tension turned up several notches. I felt people watching me, looking at me, focusing on me. Dracula stared with an interested gleam in his eyes, flashing his spiked teeth as he headed over in my direction.

I searched the floor for Peyton. She was laughing at something the pirate whispered in her ear. And then she tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, allowing him to get a good view of the freckles that disappeared down into her cleavage.

I made eye contact with Dracula again as he got closer. Then I turned around and went in the opposite direction. It wasn’t that I was against dancing. I actually liked to dance—with people I knew. This whole Halloween party was more Peyton’s thing than mine.

She was the reckless one. I worried about her sometimes, especially on the nights she didn’t come home. But Peyton always returned the next morning with the exception of that weekend in Texas.

She had left in the middle of the night with two guys who wanted to take her to the beach. They drove to Galveston, did who knows what in the sand, and then got back in the car and came home. Even though she had texted the entire trip, I was a nervous wreck until she walked back in the door with her sand-covered panties in her hand.

I watched Peyton with the pirate. This didn’t seem to be ending any time soon. I decided to make my way across the room to the bar. I kept an eye out for our other roommate Skylar. She was supposed to be here with her boyfriend Dylan, but there was a good chance I wouldn’t even recognize them in the middle of all the costumes.

Reaching the bar, I searched for an open seat. I found one at the end, close to the corner and out of the way. It took a couple tries before I managed to get situated on the leather saddle that served as the stool.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the old-timey saloon glass behind the bar, seeing the layers of black makeup circling my wide green eyes. They had always seemed too big for my face. I squinted, trying to make them smaller as I straightened the cat ears perched on top of my brown hair.

Giving up, I leaned against the wooden bar, setting my arm in a puddle of beer. My nerves pricked up over the amount of germs currently seeping into my skin.

No matter what I did, I always felt so out of place at Dusty’s, which is why I usually opted out of coming with Peyton. I had just wanted to stay home and eat pizza in my pajamas tonight while watching
A
Nightmare on Elm Street
marathon. But Peyton said I was too much of a homebody. She meant it to be funny, but it was the truth. I liked being in our house.

My life had always been a string of different places. On the road to someplace new with my family. Always unpacking. Always starting over. And now I liked the structure that surrounded me in this town. It provided a certain amount of comfort, which I felt best while sitting in my living room.

“What do you want to drink?”

I looked up, seeing the bartender in front of me. “Oh, um . . . a cosmo?”

I cringed, seeing the look on his face. Why did it come out like a question? He had asked me, not the other way around.

The bartender disappeared, and I looked out across the room again, waiting for Peyton to come back. I realized it might be a while. I could just leave. She wouldn’t like it, but the girl could hold her own without me here. But I would have to walk back alone. And it was really cold outside.

A clear cup was placed next to me with a faint hint of red floating on top. I reached down inside my boot to get money from the inside pocket.

“Put the cat’s drink on my tab.”

I turned around quickly at the sound of the deep voice behind me.

“What are you doing?” The words slipped out as I stared into a set of brown eyes. He tipped a beer bottle up to his lips and grinned as he pulled it away. And that hair. The top of his head was covered with messy blond strands that were slightly curly and slightly straight—like they couldn’t make up their mind.

“Well, I saw this lost kitten, sitting all alone, and I thought I would buy it a drink.” His face lit up with his flirting. I saw how it probably worked on most girls.

“So what are you dressed as tonight? A drunk cowboy?”

“A cowboy, maybe, but I’m not drunk.”

“Not yet, anyway.”
I didn’t just say that.

“No, I only have one before I go on stage. Helps loosen up the nerves.”

My eyes trailed over his pearl-snap shirt. It was untucked over a pair of really tight jeans and brown cowboy boots. “So you’re a singer?”

“Yeah.” He took another swig of his beer.

I studied him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was telling me the truth. “If you’re a famous singer, what’s your name?”

“I’m not exactly famous. Well, not yet, anyway. But my friends call me Lucky.”

Lucky?
“So we just met and I’m already upgraded to friend status?”

He chuckled. “If you want to be friends, we can be friends. But that wasn’t exactly what I was thinking when I bought you that drink.”

A nervous jolt went through me, hearing his pointed remark. I glanced down at my hand, which held the cup that I had yet to even sip. Lifting it up, I took a small drink before letting my eyes drift back up to his. “Are you always this self-assured?”

“Yes. Most of the time.”

I laughed at the sincere look that followed his little comeback. He was cute and sexy. And I assumed this
singer
was used to girls thinking those exact same thoughts. The room was full of them, which is why I couldnt figure out why he had picked me. The girl hiding in the corner, minding her own business.

Lucky glanced at the clock above the bar. “Hey, I gotta go. But you should come over by the stage. I’m up next.”

As far as I knew, this was his usual game. Hit on a girl before the show. Hook her with his sexy songs. Have her waiting for a quickie afterward.

“I think I’ll just stay here, but thanks for the drink.”

His brown eyes flashed something with my rejection, but he quickly covered it up with that flirty humor. “Well, I guess I was trying to save a kitten that didn’t want to be saved.”

“It’s Katie.” I shocked myself as I blurted out my name.

That lazy grin reappeared, causing the left side of his lip to turn up a little bit more than the other. My face flushed with the attraction that seeped slowly under my skin. I seriously wasn’t falling for this act from some wannabe country singer.

“It was nice to meet you, Katie.” He held my gaze for a second longer before turning around and disappearing into the crowd.

I swallowed hard. What just happened?

“Are you freaking kidding me? I leave you alone for ten minutes and you find
that
?” Peyton came over beside me at the bar. Her bright-red lipstick was slightly smeared on the edges.

“You got a little on the side.” I pointed to the edge of my own lips.

“Damn.” Her French manicure glistened under the lights as she rubbed her face. “It’s supposed to be like sixteen-hour shit.”

“You got it.”

“Okay, good.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “So who were you talking to? Because that was about the cutest thing I’ve seen all night and I just let a sexy pirate touch my boobs.”

I took another sip of my drink. It burned. I should have gotten a beer, but cosmos always looked so fun when I saw girls drinking them on TV. Jumping off the barstool, I left the cup on the wooden counter. “Well, he claims to be some guy who’s singing tonight. Said his name is Lucky.”

“Whoa. Aren’t you
lucky
?” Her eyes got big with excitement. “So is he really a singer?”

“That’s what he said. He’s supposed to be up next.”

Peyton grabbed my hand before I had a chance to say another word. She pulled me through the crowd of people and over to the stage. The dance floor covered most of the area directly in front, but the sides had a few pub tables. We wormed our way around a girl with a low-cut sparkly devil suit to a place in the back corner. The current band was still playing as we took our seats.