“Don’t be a piece of shit,” Mark says, laughing. “I’ll see you Monday at the fittings.”
He hangs up and I shoot a quick text off to Trevor, letting him know I’ll be a few minutes late. I just need to get to Friday.
Chapter 14
Bex
The casino floor is buzzing with the excitement that typically accompanies game days on the Strip. I don’t follow a lot of sports—okay, correction: I don’t follow any sports. But being in hospitality means we have some awareness regarding local events, especially since the stadium is located right next to us.
Crimson and black Vegas Viper jerseys are everywhere I turn, and the thought occurs to me it might be nice to get myself one. The staff is allowed to wear the team jerseys on game days as part of their uniform, which is a nice change of pace.
I hustle up to the service counter, where Carlos is shaking up martinis and Marla is sharing a story about an over-served guest.
“So, I told him, ‘No. You cannot have another, you’ve had too much,’” Marla says, picking at one of her acrylic nails. “And he goes, ‘But, ma’am, the drinks are free.’ As if that has anything to do with it!”
Carlos and I both laugh.Honestly, it’s not that funny because it happens so often, but somehow, sharing these stories makes it feel kind of like trauma-bonding.
“Did you call security?” I ask.
Marla shakes her head. “Nah, didn’t have to. This asshole fell off his chair right after, and his buddies dragged him out. Not a single tip from any of them, either.”
“Fuckers,” Carlos mumbles, shaking his head as he pours a line of espresso martinis. “It’s too early for that shit.”
He’s not wrong, given that it’s only 5 p.m. on a Friday, but weekends in Vegas start earlier and get rowdier than weekends anywhere else. If you start drinking in the morning, 5 p.m. is probably bedtime for some folks.
“Can I get two Miller Lites, a Hendrick’s G&T, and a long island, please?” I ask after Carlos finishes the martinis. He nods as he reaches for the gin bottle.
Marla is carefully arranging her tray of martinis when she says, “Well, fuck me sideways, look who it is.”
I whip my head around to see who Marla is talking about, and my jaw drops open at the sight of Corey. He walks up to us, wearing a red Vipers jersey and jeans, and holy shit, I forgot how tall he is. My body immediately reacts to his presence, nipples tightening and my core fluttering. He’s smiling, and even though we’ve had several video calls since that first epic one, it’s almost like his face is new to me: the sharp cut of his jaw, the stubble on his face, the depth of his dark eyes, and the way his hair flops down onto his face.
When he comes to a stop next to me, I realize I’ve just been standing here with my mouth open. “What are you doing here?” The first words out of my mouth cause his smile to falter.
“Are you just finishing your shift?” he asks, giving Marla and Carlos a smile and acknowledging nod.
I tilt my head up at him, my hands on my hips. “What? No, I work until 11 tonight. Now answer my question, please.”
It’s not that I’m not happy or excited to see him. Based on the wetness pooling in my panties right now, I’d say parts of me are beyond thrilled to see him. But I feel caught off guard—he didn’t mention a trip to Vegas, did he? Even his texts this morning didn’t allude to this.
“Shit,” he says, running a hand through his hair. He seems nervous, but I can’t imagine why.
I step closer to him, lowering my voice so only he can hear me. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.” I put a hand on his arm, which was a bad idea because he feels so warm and firm, and it’s now taking all of my composure to not jump into his arms right now. “I’m really happy to see you.”
He forces a smile and says, “I should apologize. Shit was moving so fast yesterday, I meant to text you, but I got on a call and… I forgot.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay, really. I’m glad you’re here.” I want to hug him so badly, but as I’m working on the casino floor, it feels wrong. “How long are you in town?”
“Just tonight and tomorrow,” he says, reaching a hand up to touch my cheek. I step back, and he flinches.
“Sorry, it’s just… I’m working, Corey.” I glance around at the busy floor but, thankfully, I don’t see my manager.
“Can you get tonight off?” he asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
His ridiculous request, and the awkward stance he’s adopted makes me giggle. “Yeah, right,” I say, glancing back to see Carlos watching us, having already loaded my order on my tray.Thank you, I mouth to him. Turning back to Corey, I say, “I get off at 11. Pick me up then?”
“Look, Christian got us a box for the Vipers game tonight. It’s the last game of the season. I meant to text you and ask yesterday, but I forgot. I’m so sorry, Bex.” Corey’s eyes are full of remorse, and I hate that he feels bad, but I have work.
“Even if you had asked me yesterday, I’m on schedule for tonight,” I explain, turning to slide my tray off the service counter. “It’s a Friday night, game night.” I nod at his jersey. “I’m sorry, babe, it’s not possible.”
