Page 19 of The Hero + Vegas = No Regrets

“But not for you?” I ask.

“You know. Guys love their weekends in Vegas.” He sounds unenthusiastic, and I like him more for it.

“You’re not one of them?” I ask.

“Not really my scene.”

Most guys in their early thirties would consider Vegas an adult playground. The gambling, the drinks, the women. “You don’t like to party?”

“I like to spend my time with people who I like equally drunk or sober.”

I smile. “Yeah, it’s easy to like people after a few shots.”

“I prefer New York,” he says. “Or the Catskills.”

“A closet lumberjack?” I ask. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

A small smile curls at the edge of his mouth. “I just like the peace.”

“Which is why you live in New York,” I say.

“I think it’s okay to like both. New York isn’t everything and neither is the Catskills, but together, they come pretty close.”

My stomach churns. Is that what my dad thought? That my mom, brothers, and me weren’t everything, so he had to go out and get more—so he could have everything?

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod. “Fine. We just need to find something borrowed.”

Worth leans forward to ask the driver something. “Can you do a tour of the main attractions? The Welcome to Vegas sign, the fountains at the Bellagio, the chapel where Britney got married, that kind of thing?”

I can’t help but dissolve into giggles. “The chapel where Britney got married? That’s what you want to see?”

“You said you’d never been to Vegas. I thought you’d want a thorough introduction.”

“Bellagio is just here,” the driver says, pulling into the drive.

“If we had a pretty perfume bottle, we could borrow some water from the fountains,” I suggest. “That might work.”

“It’s an idea,” Worth says, though his frown tells me it’s not the best idea he’s ever heard. He grabs an unopened bottle of water from the side pocket of the car and slides out of his seat. He turns and offers me his hand to help me out of this car.

“One more than you’ve had.” I take a step down, but instead of releasing my hand, Worth links his fingers through mine.

Like we’re a couple or something.

A crackle of desire courses through me, and I wonder if he feels it too.

“That’s true,” he says, leading me along a pathway like he knows exactly where he’s going. “So let’s collect some water, and if that’s all we’re left with when our time’s up, we don’t have to come back.” Rather than let go of my hand, he unscrews the lid of the water bottle with his teeth and empties the water out on the path.

“So a tour of Vegas and a treasure hunt at the same time?”

“I’m all about multitasking,” he says. I know he’s making a joke, but someone should tell his face.

Is it weird that I find it low-key adorable how dry he is?

People seem to appear from everywhere and we’re all headed in the same direction. Worth clearly knows where he’s going and squeezes my hand in reassurance. Despite the fact that it would be easier if he let my hand go, he doesn’t.

The fountains come into view, except they’re not… fountaining. Worth walks up to someone in security and they have a conversation. Music has started playing and I can’t make out what they’re saying.

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