All Strings Attached (ALL STRINGS ATTACHED #1) by Randi Mae EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Randi Mae
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 7.4 MB
- Price: Free
Opener
DECEMBER 11TH, 1989—ZAK
One hour earlier, Zak Parker had appeared before a family court judge to
weave a tale of personal responsibility, integrity, and self-sufficiency.
Now, her first beer sat untouched on the tile counter in front of her.
It wasn’t that she cared about underage drinking. At least if she got
arrested, she would have a place to stay tonight. Beer just looked gross, no
matter how enthusiastically her best friend Edge hyped it up as the perfect
way to solemnize her emancipation.
“A toast.” He lifted his own glass, filled with virgin piña colada from the
frozen drink machine. “To growing up too fast and dying too young.”
“Not funny. You’re not allowed to die on me.” Zak clinked the side of her
pint against his. The golden lager fizzed as a thin sheet of foam spilled over
the rim. “When’s your next appointment with the neurologist?”
“We don’t need to talk about that right now.” He squatted until she was
no longer speaking to his face, but to a mop of curls, as he pretended to
reorganize the bottles in the bar fridge. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”
“I am celebrating.” She tipped back the mug to prove it, and a flavor that
could only be described as liquified car freshener coated her tastebuds.
“This is disgusting,” she rasped, dribbling as much of that vile drink as
possible back into the cup.
Edge popped up to catch her reaction. His laugh extended to his deep
brown eyes, twinkling mischievously under the stained-glass pendant lights.
He had been sneaking tastes from his family’s cantina since the day it
opened, but getting diagnosed with epilepsy had put a stop to most of his
shenanigans. Drinking included.
Before he could call her a wuss, his mother cut him off in rapid-fire
Spanish from the stockroom. Something along the lines of, “Eduardo
Miguel Cortez-De La Fuente! I swear to God, if you and your little
girlfriend are chugging down our profit, she will not be the only one
without a mother anymore.”
Zak’s nose crinkled. She nudged her glass away until it bumped into the
spill mat.
Edge gave her a look halfway between pity and embarrassment. Marisol
De La Fuente had no idea how good of a language tutor her son was. “She
didn’t mean it. I work for free. She makes more than enough profit off of
me.” He lowered his voice at the end. No doubt, to avoid getting beaten half
to death with a jelly sandal.
“Anyway, what are you working on these days?” He rapped on the worn
cover of her composition book.
“Nothing worth sharing,” she said, but she didn’t protest when he flipped
through the notebook and found the lyrics she had scribbled down the last
time they were here. Fingerprint-shaped grease splotches stained the paper,
courtesy of the empanadas she’d been eating.
Edge concentrated on deciphering her handwriting while she tried to play
it cool. Songwriting was a cyclical experience. She hated everything she
created. Then loved it. Then hated it again. The only way to break the cycle
was to get an outsider’s opinion. Another musician, someone who knew
what they were doing. Someone honest, like him.
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