Risky Business

1. Ivy Thompson

IVY THOMPSON

“ S o, when I lived in Australia for three years, everyone warned me about the spiders and how big they’d be. But then I found this massive huntsman in the bathroom, it didn’t affect me at all.”

I stare back at my date, Adam, as I sip on my cocktail, wishing time would pass a lot quicker than it currently is.

“Wow,” I say with fake enthusiasm. “Sounds fun.”

“Oh, and the crocodiles. Don’t get me started on the crocodiles. They’re so much smaller than people say they are,” he says as he leans back in his chair. “People think Australia is this terrifying place with dangerous animals, but you cannot fear the animals. They should fear us. They?—”

“Have you been anywhere else apart from Australia?”

Adam pins me with a stare as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Why are you talking over me?”

My eye twitches at his hypocritical statement. “Sorry,” I say sharply.

When I take another sip of my drink, instead of tasting a mouthful of my strawberry daiquiri, I’m slurping from an empty glass. Great. No more alcohol to help me through this nightmare.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been to Australia before?”

I shake my head. “But I’ve been to?—”

“Oh my god,” he cuts me off. “Australia is the best place on Earth.”

My back presses into my chair as I sigh silently.

If only he’d let me finish one sentence.

“I can’t believe you haven’t been,” he carries on. “You haven’t lived.”

My eyes almost roll into the back of my head when he moves on to how savage the excursions were. I might have been interested if he asked me something personal and didn’t make everything about himself.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I speak over him—otherwise I’ll be here until tomorrow morning.

I drag my chair out from underneath me, and Adam blinks, bewildered. “But I’m not done talking?”

“My bladder can’t wait for you. Sorry.”

When he scoffs, I ignore him. Reaching for my bag, I head straight for the bathroom, needing a minute to take a breather. I rummage for my phone to call my friend so she can shove some sense into me.

“Ivy?” Erin’s voice echoes into my ear.

“Hi,” I murmur before pressing my thumb to the speaker and sliding it onto the counter.

“What’s happened? Is he a serial killer?”

A laugh slips past my lips. “Not sure how I’d be talking to you if he was a serial killer.”

She tuts. “Well, something must be wrong because you wouldn’t be calling me halfway through. What’s going on?”

“It’s not going to work out. I know I shouldn’t have done this,” I groan.

“Ivy, this is your first date in over three years. I’m not surprised you’re feeling a little anxious.”

I shake my head furiously. “No, this has nothing to do with my nerves, and everything to do with the fact my date is so far up his own ass that he has shit stains on his face.”

“What… really?”

My head falls into my hands. “No, Erin. He’s barely let me finish a single sentence all night. All he’s been talking about is his time in Australia, and it’s killing me. I can’t do this.”

“Do you need me to come and shout some sense into him?”

“No,” I say as I stare at myself in the reflection and flatten my champagne-blonde hair. “He’s just incredibly obnoxious and I already know he’s not the one.”

“Then leave. Screw that guy.”

“I’m done with dating apps forever.”

“You’ve only been on there for a week.”

“Yeah.” I laugh to myself. “And I think that’s enough for eternity. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I’m not ready. I think I’m born to be single.”

Erin sighs. “You’re giving up so easily.”

“Yeah, I am.” I sigh morbidly.

“Go and tell that boy you’re leaving. Don’t waste your time on someone who doesn’t even want any of yours.”

She’s right. She’s always right.

“Thanks, Erin.”

“Text me when you’re leaving.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I touch the screen to end the call. My eyes flick up and I inhale a deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of my dress before I leave the bathroom and head back to our table.

Adam spots me from across the room, his curly blonde hair bouncing around his head. He flashes me a funny look and suddenly I’m paranoid I have toilet roll stuck to my shoe.

“What took you so long?”

My jaw clenches. Yeah, Erin was right. Screw this guy.

“There was a queue,” I lie.

I don’t bother sitting back down.

“Sorry to cut this short, but I need to go. Thanks for the drink.”

Except, I’m not sorry. Not one bit.

He recoils like I’ve slapped him. “Wait… you’re just leaving?”

“Yeah.” I force a sympathetic smile. “I have to go.”

Adam scoffs loudly and stands from his chair, the legs scraping against the floor. “You’re doing me a favour anyway. Worst fucking date ever.”

“Yeah, that makes two of us,” I mumble under my breath.

His eyes blaze. “No guy is going to settle for someone as boring and rude as you.”

I swallow the lump in my throat as he storms out of the bar. My chest heaves, realising there are multiple sets of eyes on me. Brilliant.

I knew I should have stayed at home.

When I know he’s long gone, I make my escape.

My head dips, and I walk through the bar, wishing the ground would open up and consume me. As I approach the exit, my heel grazes the floor at the same time I hear a crack. Then I’m stumbling forward.

I reach out for the main set of doors to stabilise myself before I fall.

“Shit,” I hiss.

My head tilts, and I raise my foot. The heel of my cutest stilettos has snapped clean off. I slump forward, pushing past the doors so I can rest against the street wall. A scream is brewing in my throat, but I keep myself together—at least until I get home.

I bury my head into my hands, listening as people stroll past, laughing and chatting with their friends. They’re ready to start their Friday night in style, and I’m ready to hide under a rock for the foreseeable.

“Are you okay?”

I don’t even bother to look up. My gaze remains on the pavement.

“Yes, I’m absolutely fantastic. Thanks for asking.”

Poison feels like it’s been injected into my veins. Right now, I have one emotion bubbling through me. Wrath. Fuck this night, fuck these shoes, fuck Adam, fuck dating apps. Fuck everything.

“You sure? I think your shoe is broken.”

I snap my attention to the owner of the deep voice. He’s staring back at me with dark blue eyes, a brunette buzz cut, and a silver nose ring.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious.” I narrow my eyes at him.

I’m trying my hardest not to be intimidated by this guy’s good looks while he experiences my misfortune. This is the icing on top of the cake.

There are two guys behind him, one is smoking a cigarette and laughing at something the other guy said. I’m guessing they’re his friends, and I’m grateful they’re not in on this conversation to humiliate me further.

“Bad night?”

I scoff. “Bad night? That’s an understatement.”

The guy tilts his head and shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “Join the club.”

I narrow my eyes at him and his friends, who are messing around behind him. “Looks like you guys are having a blast.”

He glances over his shoulder and shrugs. “They just got us kicked out of the bar for being too drunk.”

“Oh, how I wish I was being kicked out of a bar for being too drunk.”

“Go on then.” His lips twitch into a smirk. “Tell me how bad your night has been.”

I push up from the wall and remind myself not to put any pressure on my heel, or I’ll go flying.

“Well, let me see…” I trail off. “Firstly, I matched with some asshole who only wanted to speak about himself, talk over me, proceeded to tell the entire bar that no guy is going to want me. Oh, and then I broke my heel, and next, it’ll probably be my ankle. ”

He chews on his lip as I catch my breath, realising I’m offloading to a complete stranger. I close my eyes and release a staggered exhale. What am I doing?

“And on that count,” I say before reaching down to take off my heels. “I’m going home.”

“Wait, wait.” He reaches out to grab my arm gently. “You can’t walk home barefoot. It’s Friday night, and the pavement is going to be littered with glass.”

I raise my brow at him, then I look down at his grip, and he quickly lets go of me. “Well, I can’t walk home with a broken heel. I’ll definitely end up in A&E then.”

“And what if you cut your feet?”

I fold my arms across my chest, the straps of my heels hitting my shoulders. “Are you a doctor or something?”

“No, but I know when someone is being stupid.”

A bitter laugh barks from my chest. “Stupid? Oh god. This night keeps getting better and better.”

He curses. “I mean, you could get hurt.”

“It’s fine.” I hold up my hand and take one step back, my bare foot pressing into the pavement. “Tonight can’t get any worse than it already is.”

I turn to walk down the street, being careful of any glass bottles and who knows what else. Footsteps echo behind me, but I don’t look back.

“My night is bad because I came out for a drink to distract myself from stuff I’ve got going on at home, but my friends decided to get us kicked out, and quite frankly, they’re pissing me off.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I slowly come to a stop. I tilt my head over my shoulder, my blonde hair swishing. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“Ditch them,” he says instantly. “And ask if you want to go for a drink with me instead, because I think you might need it as much as I do.”

My mouth opens, and I shut it immediately in shock.

“You want to go for a drink with me?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “I could do with six shots of tequila, and I bet you could, too.”

“I don’t like tequila.”

He narrows his eyes but smiles anyway, a cheeky yet playful glimmer reflecting in his irises. “Fine, sambuca then.”

My heartbeat pounds in my throat as I stare at this abnormally handsome man—something I really didn’t want to acknowledge again.

“My shoe is broken,” I say, raising the heels in my hand.

“I’ll hold you up.”

For a moment, I look at him. “What’s your name?”

“JJ.”

I tilt my head at his Godlike confidence.

It’s practically oozing out of him. I want nothing more than to peel my eyes away, but I can’t remove myself from his undeniable energy.

“And yours?”

I lick my bottom lip. “Ivy.”

“Well, Ivy. Would you like to go to the next bar so we can banish this shit day with a sambuca shot?”

I shove down the pounding thoughts that are telling me to go home. He’s right, we could attempt to make this night better if I fall into nicer company. Otherwise, I’ll be wallowing in self-pity the second I get home and striking myself out for future dates.

Not that this is a date, by any means.

JJ stands there waiting patiently for an answer.

I roll back my shoulders and shake out my stiff spine. I can’t remember the last time I’ve done anything this spontaneous, not since the accident. I’ve been living in bubble wrap for far too long, and tonight might be the night to surprise myself.

“Alright, fine,” I say softly. “But I’m only going for the sambuca.”