Page 158 of Vegas Heat

“Gosh, he really has no idea about the two of you, does he?” my mom asks.

I shake my head. “He’s caught up in a lot of his own stuff right now, so we’ve been flying under the radar I guess. And I move into my new place soon, so even less chance of him finding out.”

“But you can’t hide this forever. Can you?” she asks.

“Neither of us wants to hide itforever, but it’s still in the early stages. There’s no harm in keeping it between us as it develops and grows,” I say. I glance back at her, and her eyes meet mine in the mirror. I spot a little relief in hers at my words, as if she understands my meaning that we’re still on track to develop and grow even though we haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet.

We will.

She’s here now.

We’ve got all the time in the world.

We arrive at the hospital, and we head to Connor’s new room on the telemetry floor. An IV is shoved into his arm, and he rolls his eyes as he looks over at us when we walk in, my mother first, then me, and Gabby at the back of the pack.

“Well who do we have here?” he asks as his eyes fall down onto our connected hands.

She waves. “I’m Gabby.”

“She’s my…” I turn to look at her, and she glances a little nervously at me as she waits for me to finish that sentence. “She’s my girl.” I lean down and press a kiss to her lips, and Marissa cheers as Connor makes some whooping noise. “But we’re keeping it quiet. We can’t let her dad find out.”

“Why not?” Marissa asks.

“My dad is Troy Bodine,” Gabby announces, and Marissa gasps while Connor’s jaw drops.

“Whoa,” Marissa says.

“Yeah. It’s complicated,” I say. I lean down and rest my forehead to hers for a beat. “But when it’s this right, we’ll sort the complications later.”

“Oh my God,” Marissa says, clapping her hands together. She rushes over to wrap me in a hug. “I’m so frickin’ happy for you.”

“Me too, man. Well, as happy as a guy can be with a catheter shoved up his dick,” Connor says.

“Not the first time you’ve had a dick infection, is it?” I ask Connor, who balks at my joke while my mother tsks me.

Marissa hugs Gabby next. “Thanks for being here for my brother-in-law. I’ve known the kid a long time, and he seems much calmer with you here already,” Marissa says. She turns toward me. “Back to your old jokester self.”

“I’m not a jokester. I just call it like I see it,” I say, and Connor laughs while my mom continues to pretend like she isn’t listening to any of this.

“You’re one to talk. You’ve been with like thirty-five times as many girls as me,” Connor says.

Gabby wrinkles her nose. “Too much information,” she says, holding her hands over her ears.

“Connor’s been with one,” Marissa says, leaning in and touching her chest to indicate herself. “And I bet Coop’s been with more than thirty-five.”

I glare at Marissa, and I slide my arm around Gabby’s shoulders as I pull her closer to me. “Numbers don’t matter. All that matters is you top my list.”

She eyes me skeptically, obviously able to tell I’m simply trying to divert the attention from the underlying accusation in my sister-in-law’s words. She gives me a look that tells me we’re probably going to have an uncomfortable conversation later.

Which is fine.

I’ll have any uncomfortable conversation in the world with her. I’m just happy she’s here.

Even if I don’t really want to get into the specifics of my number.

Age is just a number, right? So maybe the exact number of sexual partners I’ve had is just a number, too.

I went through a phase or two. I’m over it now.

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