Page 20 of Riding the High

“Makes sense. Wasn’t sure if you fell asleep up there.”

“Not gonna lie, I thought about it.”

“Game face, buddy. It’s all for them.” She squeezes my upper arm, and a feeling I’ve had under control for years fires through my body. I look over at the Bellagio fountains as we walk, trying to get my head around my thoughts. Maybe it’s just the stress of knowing I need to clean up my act. No more one-night stands. Maybe that’s what’s making me look at Ginger differently? Because she’s safe? I decide that must be it as I eye up Nash and CeCe, whispering in each other’s ears as they walk. I make a gagging sound. “They’re way too fucking happy,” I mutter.

“Sickening, isn’t it?” Ginger grins back up at me.

“Horrifying,” I retort. “Reminds me what a fucking trainwreck my own love life is.”

“Fucking same. You know what? I say we have fun this weekend. Let loose. Partners in crime?” she offers. “Or as you cop types call it, PICs?”

“I’ll be your PIC, but you can’t dip out on me last-minute.” I nod to Chris. “Because it seems like you have someone else willing to take my position.”

“He’s alright.” She holds a ruby red nail up in the air. “But he’s no PIC. He actually told me his shoe size three times. Who just works that into conversation?”

“Pricks trying to get laid,” I scoff without thinking. “And if he’s bragging about it, there’s no way it’s as big as he’s implying.”

“Exactly!” she exclaims as we cross Las Vegas Boulevard. “And gotta stay true to my own rules. I don’t get down with fuckboys.”

I nod, but those words sober me right up. Because she’s talking about guys like me.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ginger

My feet are killing me. We’ve danced and dragged our asses all over this strip tonight, going from one club to the next. Well, all of us girls except Ivy, who went with the boys because Wade wasn’t about to leave his pregnant almost-wife on the streets of Vegas. It’s just before one a.m. Vegas time and I’ll admit I’m tipsy, and thoroughly jet-lagged, as we leave the Cosmopolitan.

When we meet back up with the boys in front of Caesars, everyone is chatting away, but it all fades into background noise when I lay my eyes on Mr. Cole Weston Ashby. He’s gorgeous; his wavy hair still perfectly imperfect in the Vegas heat, and his freshly shaved jaw looking like the ideal place for me to plant my lips. I can usually block out his hotness and remind myself of who he is, but the way he’s looking like the ultimate tall, dark and handsome snack in that fitted white button-down, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms revealing his inked left arm that ripples with vein and muscle is … shit, it’s a lot.

I continue to watch Cole until my thoughts are interrupted by Chris Bell.

He’s full ofI might let you fuck mecharm. Don’t get mewrong, he’s nice enough and I can tell why he fits in with Nash’s old hockey crew. But it’s clear he couldn’t care less about anything I say—not really.

As we all cruise the strip, Chris keeps in step with me, asking all about the clubs we went to, telling me about a night he had when he played here in the winter and some trouble they got into at Vdara. He’s also telling me how beautiful I look—much more beautiful than any woman he’s seen tonight in Las Vegas—as his hand migrates down toward my lower back.

“Thanks,” I say nonchalantly, scooting away from his hand.

He seems a little more loose than the other guys, and I’m guessing he’s had more to drink.

“You know what they say about Vegas?” he coos in my ear.

“They say a lot of things, Chris,” I retort flatly.

He laughs off my disinterest. “What happens here stays here. Let’s be something that happens here, baby.” He makes an effort to wrap his long arm around my waist and pull me close. I remove his hand and shoot him a warning look that tells him not to grab me like that again.

“So, this is our stop, yeah?” Cole posts up unexpectedly beside me, grasping my elbow and side-nodding to the Flamingo Hotel and Casino beside us. “You wanted to do some gambling tonight. Remember?”

He’s trying to get Chris to let up, and if I didn’t know better, it almost seems like he doesn’t like him hitting on me.

“Need me to teach you how to use the slot machines, Cole?” I ask, one eyebrow raised questioningly,

“I think, judging by the way your words are starting to blend, I’ll be showingyou,” he retorts.

I weigh up my options. Nash and CeCe will definitely be stalking off somewhere soon, so it’s either spend the rest of the night warding Chris off from touching me, give up on the night completely, or hang out with Cole.

It’s an easy choice, but I don’t want Cole to know how easy.

“I don’t know, Law Daddy. You’re rather stiff and boring tonight, you’ll need to convince me a little harder.”

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