"I suppose," he mutters.
"Admit it, Cage dude. You love me," I tease.
"I wouldn't go that far," Cage replies.
"I'm wounded. Deeply, deeply wounded," I retorts, feigning sadness.
Cage sits there, the only sign of his amusement is the tiny lift of one of the corners of his mouth. "You'll recover."
Sera whispers something to Cage and he gets a look on his face he only gets when Sera’s around.
"If you'll excuse us," Cage addresses.
“Oh, yeah! Sera and Batman sexy time!” I call out. Everyone joins in. There are wolf whistles and cat calls until they exit the ballroom.
I laugh. “That was awesome.”
“Imagine how fun Elvis hunting is going to be!” Lucy replies.
Indeed.
Elvis hunting didn’t go as planned. Poor Lucy’s sad. Someone rained on the Elvis parade last night and if I’d have had more liquor in me, I’d have likely punched them in the face. As it was, Linc lifted this Elvis up by his gold lamé lapels and gave him a good, hard shake. I swear we heard his teeth rattle. It seems no one likes to see an upset Lucy.
We went back to the hotel, hung out in the suite and Lucy got completely shitfaced. Drunk Lucy is hilarious—unless someone fucks up her plans, and that asshole Elvis did just that.
“Do you think Lucy’s still upset?” Tera asks as we finish getting dressed to go down for breakfast.
“Yeah, I’m sure she is. I’m fucking bummed about it myself. Why’d that fuckface have to ruin our fun?” I whine.
“Aww, my poor baby,” Tera croons, hugging me.
“It’s just, we have so much fun when we go Elvis hunting,” I whine some more.
“He’s not really dead. That article was in the Enquirer, for fuck’s sake. Total bullshit. And there isno wayElvis looks like that. He looked horrible. Elvis is too handsome to look that shitty.”
“Valid point,” I reply.
“We’ll just have to come back and avoid that lousy Elvis. I did go and tell the casino manager what a dick he was. I think he got fired,” Tera tells me happily.
“Good. He was a total dick to Luce.”
“He wasn’t any better to you.”
I let out a sigh. “No, but I can handle shit like that. Lucy’s too soft-hearted.”
“I’ll talk to her at breakfast. Let’s go down. I’m hungry.”
“Woman, pregnancy makes you hungry all the time—for both food and sex,” I remind her.
“Are you seriously complaining?”
“Hell no!”
She laughs. “I didn’t think so.”
