He spends the next hour on the phone, presumably fielding calls about being married, and he has his publicist issue a statement. I guess this is what happens when we decide to go live with our news at a charity event.
He’s still dealing with all that after breakfast when it’s time for Ivy and me to make our way to our first appointment of the day.
A short while later, I find myself relaxing at the spa with a mask on my face next to Ivy, who just finished her facial. Up next is our ninety-minute Swedish massage, and then manis andpedis. It’s been a dream of a day already, and it’s been fun having Ivy here as we catch up on lost time.
But the fact that he’s going to leave in a few days for two entire weeks and it’s just going to be me and his baby alone in his penthouse feels like it’s looming over me.
He admitted this morning he wants to kiss me again. I can still feel his lips on mine. Still feel his hips as they thrust against me. Still feel his hard cock as it pressed against my hip through his pants.
God, I want him.
And the one person I usually talk to about stuff like this can never, ever know.
Dex thought of everything, and after our massages, we head to the salon next to the spa to get our hair and makeup done for a night out. He even sent a personal shopper to greet us at the salon and get our sizes, and she returns an hour later with different clothing options for our night.
I settle on a purple sequin minidress that’s slightly shorter than I usually opt for, and the birthday girl picks out an edgy corset-style top with a leather skirt.
Our styles feel different and totally Vegas at the same time, and the car from Dex’s complex is waiting to take us to dinner once we’re ready. When we get inside, it’s packed, and our table isn’t quite ready, so we head to the bar.
“Vodka Sprite, extra cherries,” I say to the bartender.
“Make it two,” Ivy says.
“ID,” the bartender says, and we both hand over our licenses. “Happy birthday,” he says to Ivy, and what better place than Vegas to spend a twenty-first birthday?
Our drinks arrive, and they’re strong, and we’re hungry.
They go down quickly—mainly so we can get to those cherries that sank to the bottom—and our table is ready just as we each grab a second.
By the time dinner is over nearly two hours later and our server lets us know the bill has been paid by Dex Bradley, I’m on my fourth and so is Ivy. As two women in their early twenties who rarely drink, we’re both feeling it. Hard.
We head to a nightclub in the same hotel as the restaurant next since Dex told us to live it up Vegas-style, and I can’t help wondering how he’s doing with Jack. He hasn’t called me all day, and though I’ve thought about texting him, I also want him to rest assured that he’s capable. I don’t want him to feel like I’m checking up on him.
But I sort of want to check up on him…because I miss him. I’m not sure when he became my friend in all this, but somehow, he did.
My thoughts are jumbled, and when I take my phone out to try to send him a text, I have to close one eye to focus. I’m not quite sure what it says when I hit send, but I think it says something along the lines ofhey, just checking in!
Ivy and I hit the dance floor and proceed to start to attempt to sweat off some of the alcohol. My phone rings a few minutes later, and I see it’s Dex calling.
“Hey!” I scream into the phone.
He says something, but I can’t hear him.
“What?” I scream.
He says something else, but I still can’t hear him.
“We’re at the club you told Ivy about!” I yell. “I can’t hear you!”
The call ends, and I slip it back into my crossbody and resume my dancing with Ivy.
A few minutes later, some guy starts dancing with me from behind. He didn’t ask but instead is just moving along my backside. Is this how they do things here in Vegas? Because I didn’t ask for this.
When I feel his boner against my ass, I turn around and glare at him, and he holds up both hands as if to say he’s sorry before he walks away.
A few minutes later, a different guy starts dancing behind me, and his friend is dancing behind Ivy. We each make eyes at each other, and I’m about to turn around and glare at this guy, too, when suddenly he’s down on the floor and I have no clue what the hell just happened.
But when I look up and see Dex as he shakes out his hand, I have a pretty good feeling about what it was.
