Page 25 of Riding the High

Cole dips his head down so he can speak low. His joking tone is gone and his voice is encouraging.

“Come with me, Ginger. Trust me, you don’t want to miss out on the view. And if you somehow manage to survive”—his smirk is back—“you’ll be so proud of yourself.” He slides his hand down my arm to my hand, and an involuntary shiver runs through me.

“You’ve got this,” Cole challenges me over his shoulder as he starts to walk.

Fuck it. Here goes nothing.

CHAPTER TEN

Cole

By the time we get through a helicopter tour where Ginger death-grips my thigh for most of it and a late afternoon lunch at Caesars Palace, I’ve had a few shots with the boys to try to loosen up and forget how much I liked the feel of Ginger’s nails biting into my skin. Which basically means I’m doing my best to stay sober at four in the afternoon.

I head to the bathroom before we seat ourselves for our after-dinner showing ofIndecency, the newest show Caesars offers, to splash some cold water on my face. All night I’ve tried to focus on another woman,anyother woman, but none of them are fucking doing it for me. The only thing I can manage to pay attention to is how close Chris Bell sits to Ginger, how she smiles politely at him as they talk, how he bought her a drink (okay, he bought all the girls a drink) and how she laughed at something he said.

I look at the man in the mirror. He looks calm and collected.

I give myself a pep talk. “Get your shit together, Ashby. Anything with her would complicate years of keeping things platonic and you care about her. In ways that have nothing to do with sex.”

“You talking to yourself?” Wade breezes into the bathroom.

I flinch. “No.”

“Sure sounded like it.” He chuckles, heading to the urinal. We’re the only two people here. “Your fist is a sure bet—you don’t have to sweet-talk it, you know. Gotta say, I can’t believe we’re in Vegas and I haven’t seen you with some unsuspecting tourist yet, feeding her some bullshit story.”

I wash my hands as he joins me at the sink and does the same.

I shrug. “Just not feeling it, I guess.”

“Uh-huh.” Wade grins but keeps his eyes on his hands. “Doesn’t have anything to do with the way Chris is doing his best to charm Ginger?”

He reaches for a paper towel, drying his hands while he speaks. “Your gaze’s been burning a hole right through her all weekend.”

“Ginger is free to flirt with whoever she wants. Even if the shithead has a different woman on his social media practically every day. That’s her choice.”

“Right,” Wade says as he pats me on the back, “and you just called a guy you barely know a shithead so … Whatever gets you through the day, bud.”

“Fuck you.”

“Might be a good idea to stay back a few minutes, tug one out in here. I just gave the woman you aren’t staring at her ticket to the show. You’re sitting right beside her.”

“So?” I retort. Wade’s pissing me off, as if I’m some sort of lovesick teenager that can’t sit next to someone I’ve spent countless nights with.

“So … do you know what this show is about?”

I raise my eyebrows “Uh … indecent people?”

Wade snorts. “Let’s just say if you aren’t turned on before the performance, you probably will be by the end of it. But, you know, it’s only Ginger. You’ll be just fine sitting beside her.”

I give a low laugh and follow behind him.

“I will be justfine.”

Well, fuck, I wish I’d taken Wade’s advice. The show is sexy as hell, just as he said. But that’s not what’s had me bricked up beside Ginger for the last forty minutes. It may be the hottest burlesque show in Vegas; and I’ll be honest, it’s pretty fucking impressive. But it’s not the show that has my attention, it’s Ginger, practicallypantingbeside me.

I lean down to whisper in her ear. “Need some ice? I have extra in my drink.”

She closes her mouth and nudges me with her elbow, but doesn’t turn to face me. She lays her palms out on her thighs and I wonder how warm and wet she is where they meet—

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