Ace had always passed as a twenty-one year old, considering his tall stature and intimidating presence. He never had a problem getting into bars, or getting drinks. So, naturally, Ace’s last stop before heading to the slammer was his favorite bar, a few blocks down from his dorm. He never dared to do so during the day, or on a weekend, but jail was in his future— so Ace could get less of a shit if someone caught him. “Scotch, please,” he ordered, taking out a cigarette. He briefly recalled promising Lara he would stop, but Ace considered this day, to be his last day to do whatever he wanted freely. Besides, smoking had always lessened his nerves, and they were all over the place, thinking about the unmentionable.
Aurora needed to get away from the dorms at the moment and she knew that her fake I.D. worked at the bar too. She walked in and smirked when she saw Ace, she walked over and sat down next to him. “Bourbon.” She flashed her I.D. at the bartender. “Celebrating?”
