“Félicitations!” The French woman next to me motions Finn and me together. “Such a beautiful couple. You must kiss to celebrate your victory!”
The cry of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” is taken up by the rest of the table, and Finn leans toward me. My mind goes brain-dead. Finn Hughes is going to kiss me.I want you, he said. And I want him too. My mind instantly jumps back to the summer after freshman year of college, the first time I felt Finn’s lips on mine. It’s like I’m right back in Katie Dalton’s pool, only now, instead of our slick bodies pressing against the swimming pool’s cement walls, my back is pressed against the roulette table—but just like before, my front is pressed against Finn. My entire body lights up like it’s won the slot machine jackpot, pulsing at each point of connection between us.
“Not here.” Finn’s lips graze the edge of my ear, and his hand slips beneath the hem of the sweatshirt. His thumb drags along the bare skin of my back, and my heartbeat ratchets up another twenty beats per minute.Not here, but soon.I can hear his unspoken promise, and I haven’t felt this out of control with lust since—well, since the last time Finn and I kissed.
The moment is broken by the roulette dealer. “Ma’am. The casino would like to comp you tickets either for the Ibarra-Kuzmin fight or Scarlett Westwood’s World-Famous Burlesque Show.”
I blink twice to clear my head, and spin toward the croupier, just as Finn starts to say, “We’ll take the burlesque show.”
I elbow him. “Excuse me, I won this game. We’ll take theboxing tickets.” The dealer hands me two tickets, and I fan them out and wave them at Finn, who pouts at me like I’ve just spoiled his night.
“I hate boxing.”
“It’s not like we’re going to go anyway,” I remind him. “The match isn’t until eleven thirty. We’ll have Sybil and be on our way back to Malibu by then. Besides, why would you want to go to a burlesque show? I thought you didn’t care about women in lingerie.”
“Well, of course. I just appreciate the athleticism and the showmanship of these women. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, I think I understand exactly.” I swat his arm, laughing, and he grabs my wrist, lightly pulling me in closer to him.
“Emma,” he begins. And suddenly I’m taken back to the many times we’ve ended up like this before—face-to-face, uncertainty hovering between us.
“Yeah?” I ask quietly.
“Is that your phone ringing?”
Shit. He’s right. I reach for it, expecting it to be Liz telling me she missed the networking event, but anxiety and hope spike through me in equal measure when I see it’s Nikki. It’s either about #burritogate, or…
“Hey! Everything okay over there?” I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral despite the fact that I’m surrounded by an Elvis-themed mariachi band.
It’s so loud in here I have to make her repeat herself after she says something scrambled into the phone. “What?” I scream back.
“Jamieknows,” Nikki hisses into the phone. “And he’s coming to Vegas.”
13
THURSDAY NIGHT
(Two days before the wedding)
THE STRING OF CURSEwords that fly out of my mouth would have my mother in conniptions.
“How did Jamie find out about Vegas?”
“Well…” Nikki hesitates. “I told him.”
“Youwhat?”
“Emma, stop shouting at me!” Nikki shouts right back. “He cornered me and asked where Sybil was, and I just panicked. I told him we wanted to do a real bachelorette for her in Vegas.”
“Nikki,” I groan, pulling Finn away from the roulette table to a quieter corner of the casino floor. “I thought we had a plan. You were just supposed to keep him in the dark long enough to give me and Finn time to find Sybil and bring her home.”
“I know, I know. But he asked me straight out. You knowI’m not good under that kind of pressure!” It’s true. Nikki’s near inability to lie is something we have in common. Although in my case, the truth always seems to burst from me like a cannonball—too blunt, too critical, with the power to maim. Nikki’s honesty is more like a bubbling champagne bottle, always delivered with a crinkle-eyed laugh or a sheepish smile—completely endearing. It’s what made her such a fan favorite onLovedBy. “But you should be proud of me, Em,” she continues on the phone. “I almost broke down and just told him the whole truth about Sybil running away—”
“Nikki!”
“But I didn’t! I couldn’t once I saw Jamie’s face. You know him, he’s such a sweet teddy bear of a man. I didn’t want to be the one to break his heart.” It makes sense. Nikki, more than anyone, knows what it’s like to have the person you love leave you out to dry right before the big day, after you’ve promised to spend forever together. “Anyway, he said Vegas sounded like a blast, and one of his friends said they could borrow his PJ—”
“His pajamas?”
