"The stage is the same," I agreed. "Before a performance, it's just wood and metal and speakers, but once everything comes together, it works, you know?"
He nodded. "Exactly."
"You think that's how we are? We're like the field or the lake or the stage?"
"Yeah."
"So, us together. Are we on the field before the game or after it starts?" I asked.
Were we Las Vegas during the day when the shine dulls and the grunge factor rises to a solid ten? Or Las Vegas at night when it's magical?
"I guess that's what we're about to find out," he said.
I knocked on his shoulder lightly, jokingly, with my fist.
Instead of bouncing off, it stayed there. Like my hand didn't want to move, even though I was telling it to with my brain.
Sloan reached for it, and something changed in the air. Something happened. One of those things I had no control over.
Not when I stepped forward into his space, and he pulled my hand to his lips. Kissing the underside of my wrist and turning me right the hell on.
He moved into my space, and I didn't even care that he was there. His lips brushed mine. Just a touch. Nothing invasive or too much. Just something that edged a memory I actually wanted to remember.
"We're definitely Las Vegas at night," I said. We had to be, with that kind of a sizzle from a brush of a kiss.
He chuckled and nodded. "Agreed."
CHAPTERELEVEN
SLOAN
This wasn't going well.
We'd made it back to the condo, but as soon as we announced our "we eloped" reveal, it didn't feel like an apartment anymore. It felt like we'd walked into one of those giantthwapmousetraps, and the bar clamped down on us.
Elliott stood next to the Elvis bust that had accosted Maya yesterday.
Maya reached for my hand, and I couldn't tell whether it was for my benefit or hers.
Elliott shook his head as though he were a disgruntled parent instead of an agent who took home fifteen percent of my earnings. "This continuing cascade of questionable decisions has to stop."
I'd bet he'd prepared that line ages ago and had been saving it for the right scenario. Because he didn't even stumble over the words—and there were a lot of words.
'A cascade of questionable decisions' was a pre-planned word salad if I'd ever heard one.
"An annulment is the best choice here," Emily added, standing beside Elliott and crossing her arms just like his. "Hands down, the best choice."
"I mean, this has to rate up there with your most questionable antics of all time," Elliott continued.
"Wait." Angela turned to Elliott. "Why is marrying Maya questionable? Maya's great. He's lucky to get to marry Maya."
Elliott pursed his lips and stared at the floor. "It's not about Maya. We're trying to avoid more scandal here—not come up with new creative ones. A quickie marriage and then an annulment doesn't look good for him."
"But at least he didn't talk more shit about ZipZing," Finn said, but no one was paying any attention to him.
"Let's all be sure to worry about what's important here: Sloan's reputation." Emily tossed her arms wide and nearly clocked her brother.
He ducked in time.
