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    Better Luck This Time
    Better Luck This Time
    Better Luck This Time
    Ebook126 pages1 hour

    Better Luck This Time

    By Imogen Markwell-Tweed

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Alice Parker has it all planned out. Graduate with honors, move to New York City, and finally start her life. She is determined and dedicated to this mission, even if her friends all suggest slowing down. Alice knows what she has to do: get the hell out of this city.
    So when she runs into Phoebe Hale, renowned bass player for the alt-indie band Pandemic Pending, who just so happens to be the best friend she was in love with in seventh grade, Alice has no idea how this fits in with her plans. As she always has been, Alice is drawn to Phoebe. But she’s not a kid anymore — and these feelings are bigger, stronger, and much more recognizable than they were all those years ago.
    Alice has always planned for everything. But if there’s one thing no one can be ready for, it’s for the love of your life to show up and ruin everything.
    This queer friends-to-lovers romantic comedy is about second chances, finding love, and taking risks.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBryant Street Shorts
    Release dateOct 17, 2020
    ISBN9781094414010
    Author

    Imogen Markwell-Tweed

    Imogen Markwell-Tweed is a queer romance writer and editor based in St. Louis. When she's not writing or hanging out with her dog, IMT can be found putting her media degrees to use by binge-watching trashy television. All of her stories promise queer protagonists, healthy relationships, and happily ever afters. @unrealimogen on Twitter and Instagram.

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    Reviews for Better Luck This Time

    4.5/5

    21 ratings2 reviews

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    • 5/5
      One of the best ones yet. Absolutely loved it!
    • 5/5
      I loved this story and honestly haven't read anything like it! Such a great setting for this romance to bloom and one of my favorite premises

      1 person found this helpful

    Book preview

    Better Luck This Time - Imogen Markwell-Tweed

    Better Luck This Time

    The tapping of Alice’s stiletto boot heels on the tile floor is in rhythm with the pulsing stress headache behind her right eye.

    She woke up with a headache and a list of errands to run before her study group meets at 8:00 a.m. It’s supposed to help her stay organized to list out everything she’s supposed to do the night before, but Alice is finding that it just makes it all that much harder to turn her brain off.

    Waking up so alert, so immediately, is starting to take its toll on her. And if the asshole three people in front of her at BluePrint Delmar doesn’t hurry up, she’s going to actually blow an aneurysm.

    Hmm… and you can make any of those with the vanilla syrup? The woman asks.

    Both Alice and the guy in front of her groan. The woman throws up a middle finger at them without even turning her head. The defiance is annoying and familiar in a way that Alice can’t put her finger on.

    Alice checks her watch again: 7:49 a.m. She’s going to be late, and then her stupid twin brother, Alex, is going to hold it over her head for the entirety of the semester and she’s going to fail Latin American philosophy because she’ll avoid the study group and then she’s not going to graduate and she’ll have wasted four years of undergraduate tuition, time, resources, and—

    "Wait, you have almond and oat and coconut milk? What’s the flavor diff there?"

    Alice’s head pulsates. She feels it and wonders, not for the first time, if dying gets you an honorary degree anyway.

    It takes another four minutes — yes, Alice is counting — but the terrible woman at the front of the line finally orders, god help Alice contain her fury, an iced cold brew.

    Finally! Alice exclaims, taking a step forward in line. The guy in front harrumphs out an agreeing sound and the terrible woman flips them off again. She turns to Alice, a snarky grin on her face, and Alice glares right back. She’s a nice person, yes, but she’s not above shaming the occasional coffee shop asshole. The woman’s eyes narrow, a glimpse of something flickering across her face, and her grin widens. Alice frowns. There is something about her that is familiar, even from across the way.

    Is that really Bee from Pandemic Pending? One of the teenagers behind her gasps and cranes to look over Alice’s shoulder. Alice automatically glances at the group behind her, frown deepening at the name, and turns back to the woman. She’s already gone.

    Huh. Who was that? What’s Pandemic Pending?

    Um, only the best indie-alt band to ever tour here, a teenager scoffs at her. Alice’s eye almost twitches. She nods, thanks them, and turns back to the line. She has better things to do than wonder why that sounds so familiar. She probably just heard about it on campus or something.

    The next few people, thankfully, order quickly, since they’ve had ages to consider, and Alice gets all six drinks. She’s back in her car at 7:59 a.m. and texts the group chat to let them know that if even one person comments on her tardiness, she’ll throw all their coffees out the window.

    She makes it to the social work library in record time, barely remembering to lock the car before darting inside.

    The library is busy, like it always is, and the clerk who’s on shift on Mondays gives her a sharp glare for the pile of coffees she’s bringing in, but Alice drops one off at her desk, beams her best smile, and takes the exasperated eye roll as a win. She makes it to the back study room and knocks with her heel at the bottom of the door until Jessie sees her and hops off Alex’s lap to help her in.

    Gross, Alice says, wrinkling her nose, before greeting the rest of the group.

    Jessie smiles. Sorry, Al. Can’t help ourselves.

    Hell yeah! Alex says boastfully. While their features — wide hazel eyes, thick black hair, eyelashes for days — are the same, Alice and Alex Parker couldn’t look more different despite being near-identical twins. Alice tops out at 5’3" and wears her plush, soft weight all along her body. Alex, though, is just over 6’ and mostly muscle. Alice thinks this dissimilarity is why, no matter how hard she tries, no one takes her three-minute head-start to life seriously.

    Alex reaches out, winding an arm around Jessie’s waist, and tugs her back to his lap. She giggles and her arms flare out, almost knocking the coffee right out of Alice’s hands.

    Alice glares at her brother, but with no real heat. Actually, she thinks they’re a good couple. Alex’s playful nature is good for Jessie, and Jessie’s inability to stomach stupidity has helped Alex’s GPA and tolerance level.

    Alice hands out the coffees before sliding into her chair at the head of the table. I was friends with Jessie first, she points out. Just so we’re clear.

    And we are so grateful, Alex says, nodding seriously.

    Alice rolls her eyes and looks over to Jacob and the two share a long-suffering look. Jacob grew up with Alice and Alex. Though the three of them have always been inseparable, Alice likes to think that Jacob likes her the most.

    Might have something to do with residual affection from the sloppy hand job she gave him at that frat party before deciding, well, yes, she is very much gay, but Alice likes to think it’s because of her charming personality and exuberant intellect.

    "Can we please get started?" Jacob asks, raising an eyebrow at the lovebirds. Even Connor looks a little grossed out, and he’s usually enough of a romantic to stomach their egregious PDA.

    Jessie sighs, put out, and rests her head dramatically on Alex’s shoulders before shimmying away and settling into her own chair. As a reward, Alice hands Jessie her low-fat double mocha latte.

    So where were we? Jessie asks, flipping open her notebook. Alice slides her laptop out of her bag and boots it up. Jessie taking notes by hand is insane and honestly the sign of a real psychopath.

    Connor breaks in first. Why are we all social work majors who only study gen ed requirements together?

    Jacob doesn’t even lift his head. Four years late to the game, but, as always, Connor is finally here.

    Alice snickers. Jessie slaps her on the shoulder lightly. "Because this group started freshman year, before any of us declared, and because even if we switched, you’re a year behind us, so we’d have to kick you out."

    Connor raises a hand to his chest. I’m touched.

    Don’t be, Alex throws a balled up straw wrapper at him. It misses and Connor sticks his tongue out at him. I voted to kick you out.

    It’s a lie and they all know it. Still, Connor and Alex get in a fake whisper-shouting match and Jessie pretends to be devastated by it. Jacob, as he usually does, remains above their nonsense and watches them with an expression halfway between annoyance and affection. Alice pretends to bang a gavel against the table. Order! Order!

    The boys straighten up, both struggling to hide their grins.

    If we don’t study — Alice points a pen at them — we are going to fail, and I, for one, do not want to be here for another year.

    Jessie agrees and Connor deflates. Jacob pats him on the shoulder.

    I am one semester away from graduating, Alice continues, leveling them all with her best glare. "One semester and then I can leave this town."

    It’s, like, a major metropolitan city, but, yeah, sure. Jessie shrugs.

    Alice tosses her hair behind her shoulder. My point stands.

    Alex sighs and opens their copy of their text book. He squints at the table of contents. Enrique D. Dussel. Anyone know if we like that guy?

    Breaking major thinkers into friends and enemies is not necessarily the most academically rigorous method of studying, but it’s worked well enough for them in the last seven classes they’ve taken together. Saving one gen

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