by Sarah Peis
“Fair enough. We’ll have to make sure you enjoy your stay.”
What does that mean? Will he personally show me around? Will he give me tips on where to go? Or was it just something he said with no intention to do anything about it? And why am I losing my mind over a guy I met five minutes ago?
We made it out of the casino and into the much quieter shopping area. There was a small shop right next to the entry, and Landon steered us inside.
“Don’t you want to go to a proper clothing store?” I asked. He didn’t strike me as someone who would buy anything cheap.
“Nah. Too far. I’d rather spend time with you than waste it finding something to wear.”
Well, that shut me up. I followed him around the shop, trying to come up with a reply.
“This one will do,” Landon said and pulled out a gray T-shirt.
He handed it to the wide-eyed shopgirl, who was trying her best to push her breasts out and into his face.
I get you, sister. We all want to thrust our boobs in his line of sight.
After paying for the shirt, Landon pulled his wet T-shirt over his head, showing off a body to match his face. Happy trail. Six-pack. Tanned skin. He seemed too good to be real. I wondered if the girls had hired a stripper to play a prank on me. Wouldn’t be the first time. Not the stripper part but the prank.
Sadly—for both the shopgirl and me—he pulled on the new shirt with efficient movements.
My eyes were glued to his chest, so when I was faced with his new purchase, I choked on a laugh. The front had two dice on it, and it said “Blow Me” above them.
“Uh, Landon, are you sure you want to wear that shirt?”
He looked to where my eyes were still staring and laughed. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere fancy tonight. We were on our way to Let’s Fry This for chicken wings. They won’t care what I wear. And I bet they’ve seen worse.”
“I guess.”
He paid and we left the drooling girl behind. Once outside, I pulled out my wallet and handed Landon money. “There you go.”
“What’s that for?”
“The T-shirt.”
He put his hands up, looking offended. “I’m not taking your money.”
“But didn’t you say we were going to get a new T-shirt?”
Wasn’t that the whole reason he made me come along?
“I did. But I never said you’d be paying.”
Why wouldn’t he just take my money and get on with his night? I was sure he had better things to do than stand outside a store and argue with a stranger. “But it was my fault your shirt was ruined. It’s only fair that I pay for a new one.”
He had that sparkle back in his eyes. “It’s all good. And I have a better idea how you can make it up to me.”
“How?”
“Come with me to Let’s Fry This.”
I didn’t know why he wanted me to come along. But what I did know was that I wanted to spend more time with him.
“Okay. Yeah. Sure. Let’s go,” I said, surprising myself.
Las Vegas must have already gotten to me, because this was the most spontaneous thing I’d done in my life. I just hoped I wouldn’t regret it.
I definitely had no regrets. Instead, I had the time of my life. The moment we got into the taxi to drive to the restaurant, I wanted to throw my ten-year plan out the window. Landon was attentive, funny, and seemed to be genuinely interested in what I had to say. He almost didn’t seem real.
“You ready to meet everyone?” he asked as we were about to enter Let’s Fry This. The restaurant only did takeout, so we were going to eat at Symphony Park. The motel he was staying at was in downtown Las Vegas and around the corner from the park.
“Ready,” I said and followed him into the small space. There was hardly room to move, the inside packed full of customers. Landon took my hand, and we slowly waded through the crowd.
“Didn’t think you’d make it,” said the guy we stopped in front of.
“Told you we’d be here.”
“Mason said you met someone.”
Landon stepped to the side, and I waved. “Hey. I’m Kinsley.”
“You brought the girl?” the guy asked, disbelief in his voice. “And what the hell are you wearing?”
“It’s called a T-shirt. Now stop staring and move up in line. We’re next.” Landon looked around the restaurant. “Where’s Mason?”
“In the car. He got a call just as we pulled up.”
Landon pulled me into his side and pointed at his friend. “This charming asshole is Clay. And he usually has better manners.”
Clay tipped his chin up at me but didn’t look happy I was there. I wondered if I should make up an excuse and leave.
Landon seemed to have read my intentions, because he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Ignore him. He’s just in a foul mood because we made him come to Vegas.”
Guess I could understand that one. Even though Vegas was growing on me.
We ordered our food, and after a brief wait, we were back outside.
“We’re over there,” Clay said, pointing to a black truck.
The guy from earlier was leaning against the side, watching our approach. He had short dark hair and was almost as wide and tall as Landon. I started to doubt my sanity. I didn’t know these guys, yet I was going to get in a car with them.
My newfound spontaneity took a nosedive into frigid cold water. What am I doing?
“Give me your wallet,” Landon said to Clay.
“What for?”
Landon speared him with a glare. “Just do it.”
Grumbling, Clay pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “You’re lucky Jameson said we couldn’t get in trouble this weekend or I’d show you how I feel about getting bossed around.”
“Not like you have any money in there anyway,” Landon joked.
“Hey, man, didn’t think you’d show up,” Mason said when we made it to the truck.
“I need your wallet,” Landon said, holding his hand out.
“Why?” Mason asked, frowning. “I know you brought your own wallet. What do you want with mine?”
“Driver’s license,” Landon said and started going through the wallets, including his own that he’d pulled out of his jeans.
He went to the truck bed and lined up the three licenses. Then he took a photo while we all watched with varying degrees of confusion.
“What’s your number, buttercup?” he asked me, phone in hand.
I was still puzzled by his behavior but told him. My phone vibrated in my purse shortly after.
“That’s all our driver’s licenses. Send it to a friend.”
He noticed my puzzled expression and said, “I don’t like seeing that scared look on your face. Hopefully this will help.”
And there went the rest of my sanity. How is he real?
I checked my phone, and he’d sent me a photo with all their licenses. I didn’t forward it because the gesture alone put my mind at ease.
“Let’s go or we’ll miss the game,” Clay said.
Mason was driving, and Clay got in on the passenger side. Landon opened the back door, and I slid in. He followed, shooting me another one of his grins before buckling up.
“Did Jameson finish the Dodge?” Clay asked, looking at Mason.
“This morning. He said they already picked it up.”
Clay whistled. “He must have worked on it all night.”
“Serves him right for making us all go to this convention. Waste of time if you ask me,” Mason griped.
“Good thing nobody asked you, then, isn’t it?” Landon chimed in.
Mason grunted and pulled out into traffic. It only took ten minutes to get to Symphony Park, and the guys spent the drive talking about a car show they were going to for the next two days.
I was happy to sit next to Landon, listening to them make fun of each other. When my phone vibrated, I was reluctant to pull it out, not wanting the real world to intrude on my happy little
bubble.
It was the first time in two weeks that I didn’t feel like my world had ended.
But as usual, my responsible side won, and I pulled the phone out. I still had a sister who was supposed to check in with me.
Brielle: Done anything irresponsible yet?
Me: Very funny. Have you set anything on fire yet?
Brielle: Only your boring clothes.
Me: Don’t touch my stuff!
She sent me a photo of her kissing my favorite pillow.
I must have made a noise because Landon turned to me. “Who do I need to hurt?”
I dropped my phone back into my purse and met his gaze. Looking at him would never get old.
“My sister. She’s defacing my favorite pillow.”
He laughed. “Little sisters are shit stirrers.”
He sounded like he spoke from experience. But before I had a chance to ask if he had any siblings, we stopped at the park and everyone got out.
We sat down on the grass, and Mason handed out the food.
Landon watched me drop to my butt and tug my feet under me. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” He nodded at the angle I was sitting on so I wouldn’t flash everyone. “We always come here when we’re in Vegas, but it’s usually just us guys. I didn’t even think about how uncomfortable it must be in a dress.”
I waved him off and opened my salad. Yes, I got a salad at a place that deep-fried everything, because if I so much as looked at a deep-fried crumb, my butt doubled in size.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m already having a much better time than I did at the casino.”
“Not your thing?”
“Not really. My friends dragged me along and then left me.”
Landon frowned. “No offense, but they don’t sound like good friends.”
“No offense taken. And they’re not. Well, Taylor is okay, but Kelly would throw me in front of a moving bus if it meant she’d get the last seat.”
I shrugged, not mad at the girls since it brought me to my current dinner arrangement.
“What else do you guys usually do when you’re in Vegas?” I asked.
A deep laugh rumbled out of Mason. He had fine lines around his eyes, telling me he usually smiled a lot more than he did tonight.
“We usually come here for work. There’s a car expo this weekend we have a stall at.”
“Which means the first night is always a write-off,” Clay said in between taking giant bites of his chicken wings. He had ordered a whole extra-large bucket to himself.
“That’s because we have to get up at four the next day,” Landon complained good-naturedly.
He eyed my salad and held out his basket of fries. I shook my head, and he shrugged.
“What do you do?” I asked, curious.
“Mason and his brother own a garage, and Clay and I work for them. We mostly rebuild classic cars. Brought one with us to exhibit at the show.”
“Which is why we can never fly but have to drive every time. And it’s a killer of a drive,” Clay grumbled, taking another bite of his chicken wing.
“Good thing we got separate rooms this time,” Landon said, eyeing the chicken wing his friend was devouring. “The giant bucket of hot wings will keep you up all night.”
“Shut up. I know what I’m doing,” Clay defended himself.
“So what brought you to Vegas?” Mason asked, wiping his hands on one of the few hundred napkins we brought with us.
“One of my friends won a hotel stay.”
Landon shifted next to me, bringing him close enough for me to feel the heat of his body seeping into mine. I didn’t move, frozen to the spot.
“Those the same friends who left you by yourself in a town you never been to?” he asked, his voice tight.
I waved him off. “They just got excited. It’s all good. I’m sure they didn’t mean anything by it.”
“She’s way too nice for the likes of you.” Clay laughed and threw a chicken bone at Landon.
“Shut up,” Landon griped and flipped his friend the bird before turning to me. “You finished with your rabbit food?”
I glanced at my empty salad bowl, still hungry, and nodded.
He held his hand out, and I put my much smaller one in his. After helping me back up to standing without flashing anyone, he nodded to his friends. “We’re off. You guys okay to walk back to the motel?”
Mason nodded and threw keys to Landon. “Guess this means you don’t want to watch the game tonight?” he said.
“Not tonight,” Landon said, then tugged my hand that he was still holding. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
I followed him to the truck and watched him put the empty food containers in the trash along the way. We got in, and he turned to me. “What do you feel like doing?”
I glanced at the time. It was still early, but he had to get up practically in the middle of the night. “Don’t you want to go to sleep?”
He chuckled. “Trying to get rid of me already?”
“Not at all. I just don’t want to keep you up when you should be sleeping. Sounds like this car show is a big deal.”
He waved me off and started the truck. “We go every year. It’s a long day but easy.”
“I’ll take your word for it since I’ve never been to a car show.”
He turned to me once more, the corners of his lips slightly turned up. “Let’s change that, shall we?”
“What do you mean?” I asked and buckled up.
“I’ll organize you a pass.” He studied me. “If you want to. I don’t want to make you feel like you have to come along. But the day would be a lot more enjoyable if you were there.”
His words made me feel flushed. And happy.
“I’d love to go.”
His face lit up, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. They appeared lighter and sparkled with humor.
“But that doesn’t help us now. What do you want to do tonight?” he asked.
I decided to keep riding my wave of spontaneity. After all, I could be anyone I wanted to be while I was in Vegas. Landon didn’t know the real me. The one who always followed rules, worked a boring job. The one who was still grieving after having just lost her grandma. He wouldn’t look at me with pity in his eyes.
So instead of asking him to take me back to my hotel room, I said, “Surprise me.”
He smirked and then pulled out of the parking spot. “I know just the place to take you.”
We only drove for about ten minutes before Landon pulled into another parking spot on the street. I looked around, curious where we were.
He turned the truck off, hesitating. “Since you haven’t been to Vegas, I thought you might like to check out the Neon Boneyard.”
“I don’t know what that is, but that sounds great,” I said, excited that he wasn’t trying to drag me to a bar—or worse, a club.
“It’s a place they put old signs. Some of them still light up. I thought you might like it.”
I smiled so big I didn’t think I’d ever stop. He’d chosen the perfect place.
It was getting dark as we made our way inside. Landon opted for a self-guided tour and insisted on buying my ticket. The place was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Enormous signs adorned the grounds, and others were stacked up along the path leading visitors through the outdoor museum.
“Have you been here before?” I asked, taking in the unusual display that was part art gallery, part history lesson.
“I haven’t, but I always wanted to come. This is our fourth year in a row coming to Vegas, but we’ve never done much but work and party.”
My confidence faltered. Was I cramping his style? Taking him away from other things—or people—he’d rather be doing?
“It’s okay if you want to go out with the guys. I’m fine getting a taxi back to the hotel after this,” I said.
The words burnt on my tongue. I enjoyed his company. He was smart, he was charming, and he was funny. And let’s not forget the fact
that he was also a work of art that didn’t hurt one bit to look at.
Landon stopped in the middle of the path and leaned in closer. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t.”
“Okay,” I said, suddenly feeling unsure of myself. It was good to hear him say it. I just couldn’t seem to shut up the little voice in my head that told me he was only doing this because he felt sorry for me.
Worst case, I could always go back to the hotel room and watch a movie.
He put his hand on my arm. “Hey, look at me.”
Our eyes met, and I was trapped. Everything else faded away; only this moment remained. I wondered if this insane attraction was reciprocated. He was so close that if I swayed forward, I’d bump into him. And I was tempted to do just that.
What is he doing to me?
“Stop thinking I have ulterior motives. Or that I’m only here out of pity. I want to spend time with you.”
“If you’re sure.”
He grinned. “I am. Now let’s go and have some fun. And maybe take a few pictures we’ll regret tomorrow.”
His enthusiasm was infectious and my steps felt lighter, my chest not as tight. This was everything I didn’t know I needed.
We took a lot of pictures, laughing at our attempts. My favorite one was in front of the Lady Luck sign. Landon had pulled me to his front and taken a selfie. I was smiling, and he was watching me. We looked like a couple. And I secretly loved it.
Stop pretending this is more than it is. You are not going to fall head over heels in love and get married. That only happens in the movies. Now stop watching him like a creep and at least pretend you’re looking at the sign you’re standing in front of.
After that little pep talk, I felt like I was back in control of my faculties. This was just two people hanging out together, taking in the sights. I could do this, no problem. And if I wanted to end the night in his bed, it would make for a perfect day, despite vowing it would never happen. Because now it was all I could think about.
I had never ended up in anyone’s bed. But even though I wasn’t that kind of girl, I also didn’t think I could say no to Landon.
“Ready to head out?” Landon asked after we’d circled the space for the second time.
