Page 84 of Vegas Heat

I bide my time, rubbing my palms up and down as I force a calm I don’t really feel. When she exits the bathroom, she’s following behind the other girl. She doesn’t see me, but she does stumble when she walks by me. She nearly falls before I reach out an arm to grab her, and I help her back up. The other girl doesn’t notice as she skips back toward their table.

When she finally tilts her head up to get a look at her savior, the blood seems to drain from her cheeks. Her eyes are dilated, but I spot the fear in them as she must spot the anger in mine.

She’s never seen me angry before. Not like this.

I can’t even remember the last time I was moved by enough emotion to be quite this angry.

When Stacy cheated on me, I guess I saw it coming.

She never moved me to the sort of feeling Gabby incites in me. It’s dangerous and scary and thrilling all at once.

She straightens, and I take the opportunity to pin her to the wall with my hips.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, angling my head down toward hers. Our lips are inches away from each other, and myGoddo I have the strong urge to kiss her.

To fucking obliterate her with my tongue.

To hear those moans the way I was privileged enough to before we learned the truth this morning.

How was that only this morning? It feels like a fucking lifetime has passed since then.

“Having fun with my friends,” she slurs, her alcohol breath hot on my jawline as she tips her chin up with a bit of defiance.

“You’re drunk,” I accuse.

“Am not.” She purses her lips.

I raise a brow. “Prove it.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.” She places both hands on my chest and pushes, but I don’t budge. The door to the bathroom swings open, illuminating her face, and it’s hard to tell back here, but I think she looks a little green, like she’s seconds away from losing her lunch.

“I’m taking you home.”

“You are not!” she practically yells. “You’ve already ruined my life once today. Fuck you if you think you’re going to do it again.” She clenches her fists into balls and starts beating them against my chest, and then she freezes a beat later.

Her eyes grow wide, and she slaps a hand over her mouth, ducks under my arm, and bolts for the bathroom.

I think for a beat that I should follow her in, but it’s a women’s room in a busy bar. I head toward her friends to let them know, but the girl she was with appears in the hallway as if she just discovered her friend was missing.

“She’s in the bathroom getting sick,” I tell her, and she glances up at me in confusion. I’m not sure if she’s confused how I know or if she recognizes me and she’s confused why I’m here. I point toward the bathroom and issue a command. “She needs help.”

She nods and takes off into the bathroom. Despite the loud music in the bar, I still hear the retching when the door opens.

And then I wait.

It feels eternal as I stand in the hallway wondering whether she’s okay, but in reality only a few minutes pass before both girls emerge from the restroom.

Gabby looks exhausted, but she’s as gorgeous as always.

“Rally time!” the friend shouts with glee, and I shake my head.

“You’re coming home with me,” I say, grabbing Gabby’s elbow.

“Who the fuck are you?” the friend asks.

“Cooper Noah. I’m staying with Gabby and her father.”

Her eyes grow wide as recognition dawns. I don’t wear the low baseball cap practically covering my eyes for nothing. “Coop…Coop…Cooper Noah?”

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