Page 115 of Vegas Heat

“He has not!” I practically screech.

“Oh yes, he has,” Mia says.

Dylan sits on the loveseat and Mia perches on his lap as if there’s nowhere else to sit in the room. Mia and Dylan met when she went to a party at his off-campus house. One of his roommates is Greg Hansen, and while he’s nice enough and decidedly cute, he’s not my type. For one thing, he’s a year younger than me, and I think I’ve established pretty clearly that I prefer older guys.

Aside from that, though…since age supposedly doesn’t matter to me, he’s super into gaming and wants to find a girl who will game with him twenty-four-seven.

That girl is not me.

“I’m happy to inform you he’s on his way over right now,” Dylan says with a little too much triumph in his tone.

“He’s gonna make me play Minecraft, isn’t he?”

Dylan laughs. “No, he’s not gonna do that. At least I told him not to.”

“I’m going to need some tequila for this,” I tell Mia.

She gets up and moves over toward the kitchen, returning a moment later with my wish granted.

Shortly thereafter, the rest of the night gets a little blurry.

CHAPTER 26: COOPER

I can’t help when my eyes automatically turn to her bedroom as I pass by it. The room is empty and the bed is made.

I glance at my watch. It’s early, and I know Gabby. She wouldn’t be up this early on a Saturday.

I don’t even know whyIam up. I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that I listened all night for her to come home. I fell asleep at some point, but I never did hear her come in when I was awake.

Her truck isn’t in the driveway, another signal that she never came home.

Did she spend the night with Spongebob?

The thought fills me with rage. I head toward Troy’s workout room and attempt to get some of the anger out on the punching bag. It doesn’t help.

I work my ass off until I’m an exhausted, sweaty mess, and I guess this is thirty-three.

It feels empty and cold.

I have a few messages from friends and women and family. My brother sent me a video text of his entire family singing “Happy Birthday” to their favorite uncle. They’re the perfect fucking family, and he has the perfect fucking life, and it’s just another reminder that I’m now officially edging toward my mid-thirties and I’m still alone.

I’m a little worried I’m turning into a cranky old man. I take a quick shower and make myself a screwdriver for breakfast.

It’s my birthday. I can do what I want.

I shouldn’t feel broken over the fact that she moved on when I’m the idiot who pushed her to do it, but seeing Stacy yesterday was a real wake-up call.

You sort of expect feelings to come rushing back when you run into your ex, whether they’re feelings of love or hate or something in between. But when I saw Stacy, I just felt…resigned. I didn’t care. I didn’t have the fire to stand there and fight with her. I just wanted her to leave. She’s caused me enough pain and enough trouble, including giving up the future I wanted for myself while I wasted so much time with her.

When I think of Gabby, though, I don’t feel resigned. I feel fire. I feel heat. I feel need. I feellove, and every time I see her, those feelings only get stronger.

I don’t know what to do.

I need to stay away, but I don’t know if I can.

And now…knowing that maybe she has moved on, maybe she’s spending the night in another man’s bed—and I use the termmanloosely for someone who’s barely out of his teen years—the thought causes a pain in my chest the likes of which I’ve never felt before.

I didn’t feel it when I found out Stacy was cheating on me, and I’m starting to think maybe it’s because I knew the end with Stacy was inevitable.

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