Page 23 of Keep Vegas

“Who the hell is Destiny?”

“I’m trying to be kind. But you need to go.”

“Fuck off then.” She shoves bruschetta in her mouth, grabs an open bottle of champagne and some gin. Good on her. I salute her as she storms away, desperately trying to hold on to the clinking giant bottles. Colt laughs. I turn, locking eyes with her dark chocolate ones.

She’s here in front of me. She puts up her delicate hand in a greeting, and I return the lame gesture. I don’t know how to behave right now, so I finish my drink in one sip and tuck my shirt in.

And then she’s standing right in front of me.

She bows deeply at the waist and says, “And good and well greetings, my liege.”

Fuck me, Mak’s still gorgeous.

mak

I’m freaking out while I’m bowing. Seriously, I never go out. My schedule makes it impossible even though I’m twenty-nine and should go out. I don’t even have cool shoes. I thought I’d be up to my fine flat ass in heels once I grew up. Nope. I have two pairs. One is on my feet, and the other is for some fancy occasion, if there is one. I had second hand Manolo Blahniks for a moment but left them at his house when I ran away from Tony. I should see if the maid still has them.

Everyone’s chatting loudly about how insane this is, and I’m trying not to stare at him. I have no money, and Maggie’s never in town, so I don’t go out. I don’t like my friends. It’s like we ended up together because of past work experiences or because a friend of a friend used to hang out, so now we do. I didn’t choose those people. Life chose them for me. But Tony? He’s the one thing I let myself have for way too long. And the one thing I never wanted to give up, but it got too hard.

I cried for months and still do if I push the edges of my memory. But right now, the most perfect man is bowing right back and joking.

“Goodie, Makenzie, a lovely treat.” Then he kisses my hand, and as his lips brush my skin, I realize I’ve only ever lived a colorful life for six months. All the rest of my moments pale compared to him. And I didn’t even notice I was in the gray until he touched me.

Colton and Maggie stare at each other much like they did when they first met. But as they awkwardly hug, both of their wedding rings gleam in the glint of the club lights.

I lean in and yell, “Dan.”

He puts his finger up and gets in my ear. “I go by my middle name now, Hayden.” I give him the thumbs-up, and he shows us that Lizzie has texted six times already.

I lean up to his ear and yell, “Is she still Lizzie?”

He shakes his head no. What the fuck is with them? He leans down and says, “But she’ll answer to it. Most people in France call her Elizabeth.”

“Whatever it is, it’s good to fucking see you, Hayden.”

He pulls me in for a selfie. I love that they found each other again. We all lost touch stateside when everyone went to college except me. I’m still working my way through, and I’m almost done with my pre-med undergrad requirements, then it’s off to medical school for me. My degrees are my ticket out of a life I never thought I’d see the other side of.

I can feel his stare and his damn heat. I turn back to him. “Happy birthday.”

Tony pulls me into a hug, then says in my ear, “You’re the birthday present I didn’t dare wish for.” We hold each other too long, and I can’t breathe. My blood pulses in time with the EDM like it’s getting too much oxygen. It’s like my bloodstream is hyperventilating. Tonight, exactly twelve years ago, I walked away from him. He doesn’t seem angry or destroyed. And I wish he’d teach me how to be like that because I’m still destroyed and angry at myself. He just seems like Tony.

I pull out of the hug, and he gestures for me to sit down. Mags is sitting between Colton and Hayden while sipping a cocktail. Tony gestures to vodka, and I nod. He fixes me a vodka soda, and I point to lemons.

He’s so much more than I remembered. Christ. I wring my hands in front of me, so I don’t reach out and touch him. This is so bizarre. In all the times I’ve cried over him, fantasized, or dreamed of him, it was always young Tony. I forgot to age him in my fantasy, and it turns out he looks even better all grown up. He’s still sporting the blonde hair and dark facial scruff. It’s such an odd but sexy unexplained combo. He seems as sure of himself as ever, and I hope my mask of bravado holds.

His body has filled out, and the skinny but fit boy he once was, is long gone. It’s been replaced by this cut, trim, ripped man with a fuller face but the same mischievous blue eyes. His blond hair is cut short, almost cropped, and it seems odd to see him put together. It was long to his ears when we met. I remember pretending to study and running my hands through its corn silk texture. I look around the room, and it’s all sweaty bodies rubbing against each other in search of connection. The desperate thumping of music bonds them through rhythm and beat. The touch of his fingers on my wrist has my insides squirm like the bodies in front of me. I like it too much and not enough to come clean with him or see where tonight would lead. The idea of slitting open that wound seems unbearable.

Sitting down, I pull down my little black dress. My dark, bobbed straight hair falls forward, and the strand gets caught in my gloss. He’s quicker than I am to pull it free and tuck it behind my ear. His knuckle grazes my cheek. We were wild together, but this was always underneath all the shit we pulled. He’s always been sensitive and tender, a side of myself I’ve only ever shown him and Maggie. Lizzie, and Kris saw a snippet here or there, but I can’t afford to let any of that shit slip out.

He turns toward me, pulling my shoulder so I have to face him. His drunken eyes are lit with fire. The way he’s looking at sweaty me is the way I look at cheesecake or Lake Meade on a hot day. He wants to dive in. We stare, and I’d like to say that time has dulled the heat between us, but I can faithfully report it has not. I remain silent and glance around.

He leans in so I can hear him. “You were the girl who never held back. What’s stopping you? I crave your boldness.” Me too. I don’t do that anymore, but it’s fun to remember that girl.

He sips water and studies me further. I hate he can sense my hesitation like he knows me best. I haven’t seen him since his eighteenth birthday. It’s easy to follow this man’s life through paparazzi and social media. I try not to imagine what it would be like if I hadn’t run away. I don’t want the glitz, I just wonder what we’d be to each other if I’d stayed.

“Nothing’s stopping me. Let’s dance.” I hop up, and he follows immediately. Hayden’s little brother nods at me, and he flips Tony off with his ring finger, which makes no kind of sense. I met him on my one trip to Boston, but he was much younger.

Tony yells, “Fuck off.” Then I glance at Colt, Hayden, and Dax, Tony’s brother, and they all have their ring fingers up as well.