Page 85 of All Bets Are Off

“Well,” he says with a laugh, “I like you, and you live in Florida, and if I want to see you again, then yes, Evie, that means I have to catch a flight to make it happen.”

Two weeks. I can survive two weeks without seeing him again. Two weeks, in fact, is a lot sooner than I ever expected to see him again. My smile stretches across my face and I feel my body tingle.

“Yes! I’d love that, Jameson. I can show you my place near campus!”

“Speaking of college,” Jameson says, and his hands move from my waist to around the small of my back, enclosing me in a tight embrace. Our faces are only inches apart, his green eyes as vividly entrancing as always. “I’m going to really show my age here, Evie, but . . . Pay off that damn Michael guy the second you get back, okay? Then study. Hard. No cheating this semester.”

“Oh, don’t even sweat it,” I say. “This weekend has been an eye-opener for me. No more cheating on exams, no more robbing strangers, no more assaulting men with stilettos. I’ve had my Vegas fun, now it’s time to get my head down and work hard so I can—” My body tenses as I blink at him with devastated realization. “Oh my God, Jameson. I have criminal charges now. Do you . . . Do you think I’ve ruined my chances of getting my nursing license? No one will ever hire me now, will they?”

“Evie, it’s misdemeanor assault in Vegas on a bachelorette weekend—you can explain it. You have not ruined your future, I promise.”

I glance back over my shoulder, and the boarding line is shrinking. Theo and the others are nearly at the desk, but I still don’t feel ready yet. I meet Jameson’s gaze again and feel my lower lip wobble.

“I should go . . .”

“I got you something,” Jameson says with a smile. Letting go of me, he sticks a hand into his pocket and holds up an orange wrapper. “Reese’s peanut butter cups. Your favorite.”

“It’ll just be my luck someone on this flight has a nut allergy,” I grumble, and Jameson laughs as he pushes the chocolate into my hand.

“Go,” he murmurs, “before they close the gate.”

I loop my arms around the back of his neck and memorize the curve of his mouth one last time before whispering, “Kiss me before they do.”

Jameson slides his index finger beneath my chin, tilts my mouth to his, and kisses me in the slow, tender way that weakens me at the knees every time. It’s delicate and careful; mesmerizing and romantic. Not for the first time this weekend, I think: I am so fucking thrilled this man sat down at the slot machine next to mine.

37

Adelaide

I have never missed a flight in my entire life. Missing flights is not something I do—I’m always at the airport with far too much time to spare, so I can grab an iced matcha, do some window shopping, and camp out at the gate long before boarding even begins.

This weekend has changed so many things about me.

I am now running—yes, sprinting—through the airport terminal. My bag rolls behind me, bumping into my heels. Over the intercom, the gate agents are already making the final call for the flight to Miami.

My breaths are ragged and my heart pumps at full capacity. I squeeze around other travelers, spluttering apologies as I barge my way off the tram onto the concourse. I can see it ahead of me now, gate D7. Final stragglers are boarding, and I race to join them, and—

“Adelaide.”

I halt, my suitcase slamming into my leg. In an instant, my heartbeat slows. Skips too many beats. I turn to him.

“Connor,” I breathe.

Connor stands in front of me. He’s wearing a gray hoodie that’s pulled up over his head, and he pushes back the hood, running a hand through his tousled hair. He slides his bag off his shoulder and drops it to the floor by his feet. It’s the first time I have seen him since yesterday, after he decided not to join us as we waited for the others to be released from Clark County Detention Center. I didn’t want him there. Not after everything he’d done. I knew he’d be at the airport this morning—he has a flight back to his base in California—but I didn’t expect to have to face him.

“No Liam,” he says, swallowing hard. His big brown eyes are full of anguish. “Please tell me you left him, Addy.”

“I . . . I can’t do this, Cons,” I rasp, shaking my head as my anxious gaze shifts to the gate behind him. The last of the stragglers disappear onto the jet bridge. “My flight’s closing. I need to—”

“Just tell me first,” he says desperately, closing the small gap between us. “Did you leave him, Adelaide?”

“Yes, I left him!” I cry out with exasperation. It has been one hell of a morning. I am exhausted, physically and mentally, and I feel like I am going to break apart at any moment, shattering to the ground in pieces. “I left him, Connor, okay? I wanted to do it on my terms, but you blew it all up in my face. I begged you not to say anything, to let me handle it, and yet you backed me into a corner there was no coming back from. It was not your secret to tell.” My despair is palpable in the shaky tone of my voice and the erratic movements of my hands. “Why? Why did you do that to me?”

“I already told you, Addy. I’d rather you hate me for the rest of my life,” Connor murmurs, swallowing, “than watch you make the biggest mistake of yours.”

My heart pangs with a pained tenderness. Connor has only ever wanted to protect me, to keep me safe, even if it means destroying that magnetic connection that still exists between us after all this time.

“Last and final call for any remaining passengers wishing to fly to Miami this morning,” the agent announces over the intercom, and I feel my mind pull me in the direction of the gate while my heart keeps me standing exactly where I am, staring into Connor’s tormented gaze.