Page 80 of Scattered Glitter

His face shifts, that flash of disappointment disappearing. Then he smooths his expression and nods with a smile that is tighter than all the others he’s had today.

“Okay, baby.” He steps closer, cupping my cheek as he leans in. His lips brush mine gently, and I close my eyes, letting myself sink into it for a second. He pulls back, hisforehead resting against mine for a beat. “See you soon,” he whispers, then steps away.

I watch him walk to his bike, disappearing into the crowd, and I let myself smile. The street feels quieter once he’s gone, even with the chaos of Vegas swirling around me. I linger there for a few seconds longer, watching the world move. People laugh as they pass, their footsteps blending into the steady hum of the city. Then I turn on my heel and head toward the small bubble tea shop down the street, weaving through the crowd as I go.

My mind buzzes with thoughts of him, replaying how his lips brushed mine, and his thumb traced the edge of my jaw.

Fuck, Nova, stop that shit.

The bubble tea shop is bright, and I order my usual and wait, tapping my fingers on the counter to the beat of some pop song playing over the speakers, smiling to myself at the thought of Hottie vibing to the Backstreet Boys on his bike right now. By the time I’ve got the cup in my hand, the memory of his touch is starting to fade, but I work diligently to replace it with the familiar comfort of sugar and caffeine.

So damn good.

Stepping outside, I walk down the Strip and sip my bubble tea, savoring the burst of sweetness. The cold drink helps soothe my headache, and I’m about to lose myself in the joy of tapioca pearls when my phone vibrates. My heart does a traitorous flip when I think Hottie has already texted me, but opening the text from an unknown number makes me realize it’s not Hottie at all.

Ready for your test today?

Levi?

No, but a friend of his.

Okay?

Thanks for giving out my number like candy, Levi.

I’m intrigued, so I type out a response one-handed while continuing to sip my tea.

Ominous. What do you want?

Where are you right now?

I look up and around. What does he want? An exact location? Nah.

What’s next? Want to know what I’m wearing?

You’re not as cute as you think you are.

I disagree wholeheartedly. Want a selfie?

I’m neither interested nor do I have time for your shit.

Where are you?

Wow. Asshole.

I answer anyway, keeping it vague.

The Strip. How about you answer one of my questions and tell me who’s asking, exactly?

Perfect. I’m gonna give you some tasks to see if you have what it takes.

I snort. What is this? A new season ofMasterChef?

And who exactly are you to decide if I have ‘what it takes,’ Mr. Unknown?

Someone better than you at what they need you to do.

Humble much? If you’re so great, why don’t you do it yourself then?

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