Page 37 of Forged

Neomi doesn’t blush, instead, she basks in my words. Fuck, she might be the one opponent I can’t win against.

If the restaurantwas a slow seduction, the casino is a live wire to my soul.

After we finish dinner, we walk into the expansive space of the casino floor, and the air hits us in a blast of perfume, money, and adrenaline. It’s the perfect atmosphere to coerce people into forgetting their limits, their names, or their morals. Lars’ fingers lace through mine as we walk, and God help me, it just feels too good.

Sitting with him through dinner, I realized we have a lot in common. For two people who barely know each other, I feel like we share an energy that I can’t quite put my finger on. He doesn’t judge my profession or feel threatened by my competency. I saw the hurt in his eyes when I asked him about past love, but I don’t feel the need to mend it.

We’re equals. I don’t know that I’ve ever been able to say that about a man. Which makes him dangerous for me.

Because I could fall for a man like Lars.

I shake off my thoughts and decide we need a distraction. Blackjack is first. We sit side by side, our chairs so close I couldlean over and taste his skin. He taps the felt with two fingers and I can’t help myself from staring. I play looser than usual, a little reckless around the edges, because his presence disrupts my neural pathways in a way I don’t have the training to counter.

He smells expensive, a hint of cedar, the faint bite of his cologne that I want infused into my skin.

A cocktail server appears and I don’t hesitate to order drinks. “Two tequila shots,” I say, then look at Lars. “Unless you’re planning to behave?”

His eyes drag over me slowly. “I don’t think that’s possible for me around you.”

The first shots burn. The second round warms. By the third shot, the blackjack table is a blur of green velvet and chips. Lars’ knee brushes mine. Or I brush his. Hard to verify with all the tequila turning my blood into liquid fire.

I lost a hand I should’ve scrapped. Lars wins a hand he barely looked at. I laugh too loudly, and he looks at me like he wants to bend me over the nearest table and fuck me into sobriety. Which would be good right about now, because I think we’ve both passed the line of just being tipsy.

We gather our chips to move on and when Lars stands from his chair, he places a hand gently around my neck. I look up and his eyes dart between mine.

“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

He says it with such sincerity that it makes my eyes burn. He’s so sexy, so sweet that I just want to know more. I want to spend time with him and learn all the little things that make him unique. As he looks into my eyes, I can feel something changing in me because of him.

I turn in my chair as he moves between my legs. I loop my arms around his waist and stare up at him. “That makes me happy.”

He bends down, placing a light kiss to my lips. “Every time I’m with you, all I want is more. I don’t know how to control myself with you.”

“Then lose control, Lars,” I respond. “I don’t want an edited version of you. I want all of you.”

His lips form a thin line. “What if you don’t like what you see?”

I reach up, my hand resting on his cheek. “Don’t play scared with me, Lars.”

He leans into my touch. “I could fall for you, Bella.”

His honesty cuts through me. “I know, Lars. Believe me, I know.”

He kisses my forehead, and I feel dizzy. We need another distraction.

I stand from my chair, still in his space. “Come on, Lover Boy. Let’s gamble.”

He smiles and fuck, I love his smile.

“Do you play craps?”

The craps tableis louder and messier. Exactly what we needed.

The table erupts around us, dice tumbling across the table, people shouting, chips piling high. Lars stands behind me, one hand on my hip, his mouth near my ear as he murmurs betting odds I only half-process, because all my brain can compute is the fact that he’s touching me. He’s touching me and I want him everywhere.

I guess the alcohol has fully set in.

We fall in with an older couple, Bennie and Meredith. They both have silver hair and matching sequined shirts. They tell us they’ve been married for forty years this weekend. They adore us instantly, probably because we’re young and clearly one bad decision away from a tragedy.