Page 28 of Keep Vegas

He talks to the bell captain guy as a sleek black car pulls up. The driver gets out and hands him the keys.

“Get in.”

“Are you kidnaping me?”

“Yes.” Then he looks around at the bell captain, doorman, the valet, and the driver and says, “You guys cool with that? They may question you later and I really want to come off well when you describe her assailant.”

The valet says, “Yes, Mr. Ladd.” I swivel my head to him, completely confused.

He grins and peels off several bills and distributes them around.

“I forgot. You’re rich.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Get in, my good witch.”

I slide into the passenger’s seat and see a picnic basket in the back. I ask, “I thought this was spontaneous? When did you have time to set up a picnic and a car?”

“When you rent out the presidential suite and connect it to the chairman’s suite so your buddies can each have their own bedroom, and Law can do his laps in our private pool in the morning, they get you anything you want very quickly.”

He spent a year’s tuition on his thirtieth birthday party.

I’m quiet. He looks over at me, and I inquire, “Tell me you do something good with all of it.”

He nods. “I donate as much as the trust will allow. And I bid on the things, go to the parties, walk the dogs, and ladle the soup once or twice a month.”

I smile, but I don’t think his head has touched reality in a very long time. “Do more.”

He nods, turning onto the street, lacing his fingers through mine. It’s comfortable, sweet, and all wrong. But I clutch it nonetheless, and the grin on his face grows impossibly larger. How does he still like me? He doesn’t even know me.

tony

I’m hoping the concierge who set all this up, came through with this last piece. I had to get out of the hotel and away from my room. My suite has an epic shower with benches and different sprayers. It would allow me to fuck her in so many filthy ways. I plan to fuck her at some point because I can’t stand not being inside of her. But if I want to keep my company, I only get one shot at it, and it’s not going to be a quick hook-up like she asked for. It’s not going to be in a sloppy, drunk, rushed way. I stopped drinking long before she showed up at the club. Although there was lots of alcohol around, I wasn’t feeling it. And then, when Dax told me what my parents were up to, any semblance of buzz wore off.

Now, I’m riding the high of holding my wicked little witch’s hand. She’s squirming. I know her. She’s the type that both wants me to hold her hand and give her space. She wasn’t affectionate at first, but eventually, she’d curl up into me on the Metro. I needed her touch like I needed to breathe. Still do, apparently. Didn’t know that until right now when I realize I’ve been holding my breath for a decade.

I’m not sure I could take letting her go again. We pull through the gates, and she smiles.

“I love the Valley of Fire.”

“Do you come to Vegas a lot?” I knew she left Reno for Arizona. I think she’s still there—she’s tagged on social media once in a while, but she never posts.

She doesn’t say anything as I ease the car over to the side of the road. We’re an hour or so from sunrise. And they instructed me in my texts to watch our step because of snakes and critters. They wrote the word critters, like things that could kill you could still sound cute. I grab the blankets in the back and the picnic basket. I set it all up on the hood of the car, and we ease back against the windshield.

We stare at the stars, and I swear to God I’ve never seen this many in my life.

She interrupts our silence by inching her hand closer and saying, “I don’t go to the Strip often. And I sure as heck don’t see this that often either.”

I weave my fingers into hers and clasp. “Me neither.”

My words die on the stilted air all around us, and I let them. She sighs, and it’s this lovely little moment of resignation. She’s decided to let me in.

“I know things feel messed up. But aside from not talking to you in a decade, the wrenching pain when you left, and let’s shelve my intense carnal desire to claim you, I missed you. I missed your laugh, your storytelling, the dancing, the closeness. I missed you trying to figure something out and then doing it your own way. That’s it. I missed you.” I missed having her know me best.

A tear streams down her cheek as I glance at her. She lets it slide onto her shoulder, then shudders a bit. I let her take the moment.

Then she says, “This all got weird fucking fast. Dude. You can’t say things like that. Give a girl a chance to catch up. You’re like a million steps ahead of me. I’m seriously just trying to recover from the shock of seeing Colt, Hayden or Danny or whatever he’s called now. I certainly wasn’t prepared to see you. So back it down, boy. Start small. It’s all I have to give.”

“I’m not good at small,” I remind her.