by T. K. Leigh
Maybe he acts this way around all women. Maybe he’s behaving like this because he’s been stuck in a house with a boy band for God knows how long and I’m the first relatively attractive female he’s seen in ages. The reasons for his unabashed admiration of my body don’t matter. All that does is that I’ve been given the gift of spending another day with him. Maybe Chloe’s right. Maybe I need to stop worrying about the potential ramifications and just let the cards fall where they may.
“So…” Asher clears his throat, looking away. “What can I get you to drink?”
I exhale. A drink is exactly what I need to help settle these nervous butterflies flitting in my stomach.
Once we all have a beer in hand, he grabs the plate of burgers and leads us toward the open French doors. As I follow behind him, I can’t help but admire his long, toned legs, the way his plaid swim trunks fall from his hips, the faint outline of more tattoos underneath his white, linen shirt.
“Lincoln!” he calls out once we emerge onto the pergola-covered patio, forcing me out of my thoughts. “Get off your phone and be social.” He lowers his voice, addressing us. “He’ll be done soon, I hope.”
He sets the plate on a table beside the grill. I inhale the charcoal aroma, the combination of the smell and being here with Asher reminiscent of the summers at Grams’ lake house. Now if only she were here, regaling us with yet another one of her outrageous stories, my heart would be full. Then again, it’s best she’s not. She’d probably force us all to do paddleboard yoga in the pool. Or she’d go skinny-dipping. Grams was never shy about the naked form, which served to embarrass Jessie and make Asher laugh.
“Who’s he?” Chloe asks. Her eyes flame, presumably over the idea of one of the band members being here.
“Lincoln Moore,” he explains as he places the burgers onto the grill, which causes my stomach to growl. My mouth salivates in anticipation of what I know will be one hell of a burger. “We went to college together. In fact, he was a workaholic back then, too. Constantly studying. He was one of those guys who lived according to the motto ‘work hard, play hard’.”
“I like to think that now it’s ‘work hard, play even harder’,” a deep voice says, and I look in its direction, sucking in a sharp inhale of air when I see the figure approaching Chloe from behind.
I may have been a few yards away, but I’d be able to pick out the man who had my best friend in a passionate embrace in the hotel from a lineup. The mysterious, deep-set eyes with swirls of caramel and gold. The full lips that quirk up in amusement. And the tall, muscular physique that easily has a foot over Chloe. She was right. They appear to be as opposite as you can get. But does that matter?
Unable to move, Chloe stares at me with wide eyes, as if waiting for me to confirm that her suspicions are correct, that the enthralling voice belongs to the man she thinks it does.
This day just got much more interesting.
“Chloe, Izzy…,” Asher begins, oblivious to the growing tension sizzling in the air. “This is my friend, Lincoln. Lincoln, this is Izzy and—”
“Dick Girl,” Lincoln finishes, stepping in front of Chloe, his gaze glued to her.
“Dick Girl?” Asher furrows his brow, his stare ping-ponging between them. If Chloe hadn’t told me about his nickname for her, I’d be just as confused. “Do you two know each other?”
“We’ve had the…pleasure.”
I notice a shiver roll through Chloe’s body, a strange response for someone who normally has no reaction to the opposite sex.
“Or perhaps I should say I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing her sharp tongue.”
Damn. Now I can see what has Chloe acting so out of character. This guy is as smooth as a twenty-year-old scotch. And seemingly just as mature, which is what she needs.
“Yes.” She holds her head high, thrusting her hand out toward him in a manner you’d expect to find in a business meeting, not a chance encounter between two people with off-the-charts chemistry. “It’s nice to see you again, to formally meet you, Lincoln.”
He takes her hand in his. Instead of shaking it, he brings it to his lips, not peeling his eyes off hers as he places a soft kiss on the skin. “Likewise, Chloe. I didn’t think we’d see each other again.”
“Either did I.”
“Funny how that keeps happening, isn’t it? How we keep…bumping into each other. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think someone, something wants us to keep seeing each other.”
I feel the heat of Asher’s breath on my neck, followed by that low, husky voice. “I could say the same about you.”
I turn to face him, the hair on my nape standing on end when I see the unyielding desire in his eyes. I bring my beer to my lips, taking a long sip. “Is that so?”
He slowly nods. “That’s so.” His expression changes, this one more curious than needy. He closes the distance between us. “Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, my chest rising and falling in a quicker rhythm.
“Me, either. But a part of me wants to find out.”
“And the other part?” I barely manage to squeak out.
“Is so fucking torn.” He rakes his hand through his hair, retreating into himself. Just as he did on more than one occasion last night.
“Me, too.”
Chapter Nine
“So, what’s next on the agenda for game night?” I ask in a bright voice after we cleaned up all the Jenga blocks that clattered to the ground, thanks to Lincoln getting cocky and not paying attention as he placed one, slightly skewed, on top of the tower.
The afternoon sped by in a fog of burgers, bachelorette party stories, and a fun game of Jenga, something I haven’t played since my Introduction to Nursing Science class when my professor had us work together in groups to prevent the tower from toppling over, equating it to the teamwork necessary in the nursing profession.
“Game night?” Chloe scrunches her nose, her lip curled up.
“Yeah. Game night.”
“Oh no.” She quickly shakes her head, her reaction akin to one you might expect if accused of a horrific crime. “This isn’t game night. That’s something bored, married couples do to mask the fact that they have nothing in common with each other. The arrogant husband acts as if he’s a know-it-all anytime his wife answers a question wrong in Trivial Pursuit. And during a rousing game of Taboo, she realizes exactly how little her husband listens to her. No thanks. Not interested.”
I pass her a wry smile. “Not all games are boring.”
Able to sense the wheels spinning, she narrows her eyes on me. “What did you have in mind?”
“You’ll see.” I jump up and walk into the house without a single look back.
Once inside, I head straight for the game room. I’m not sure how everyone will react to my idea, but we’re all adults. If I hadn’t consumed the number of beers I have, I probably wouldn’t suggest this, but I need something to cut through the constant push and pull between Asher and me. An icebreaker of sorts. In my experience, this game has always been great at doing just that.
“I told you, Chloe,” I say once I return to the patio, placing a box on the wicker coffee table. “Game night doesn’t always have to be boring. What do you guys think? Want to take things up a notch?” I float my eyes around our little party sitting on a pair of couches placed on either side of the coffee table, girls on one side and guys on the other. When my gaze stops on Asher, he swallows hard, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Or are you too chicken?”
“Never Have I Ever?” Chloe turns her nose up as she reads the words printed on the box.
“Why not? I thought you were an open book, that you had no shame.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what’s stopping you?” I steal a glimpse at Lincoln before looking back at her.
As day turned into night, their flirting has become a bit more obvious. The angst is killing me. I can only imagine how it’s affecting Chloe.
> “Fine.” She pushes out a sigh, feigning annoyance, but I can tell she likes the idea. “But if we’re going to play this, I’ll need a fresh beer.” She starts to stand, but Lincoln stops her with a gentle hand on her arm.
“I got it.” His gaze lingers on her a beat longer than normal before shifting his attention to the rest of us. “I’ll grab another round for everyone. I have a feeling we all may need it.”
I watch as he disappears into the house. I probably should have told him I didn’t want another beer, considering I’m already tipsy, but it’s my last night in Vegas. Might as well have some fun while I still can.
“I’m going to take advantage of this break and go change.” Chloe stands, her eyes averted as she walks away.
“Are you sure you’re not planning to take advantage of something else?” I call after her, even though putting on something warmer sounds appealing now that the temperature has dipped significantly from earlier. Asher warned me it would happen. The second the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, it was like someone turned off a heating lamp, an instant chill setting in.
She waves me off, not even acknowledging me as she steps inside, closing the French doors behind her. I slowly shift my eyes back to Asher’s, not sure what I’ll see, whether it will be warmth and endearment or purposeful distance. When I peer into them, I see something else. Something I can’t quite explain. He gazes upon me with affection, but it’s so much more pronounced. More charged. More intense.
Standing from his position across the coffee table from me, he heads toward me, each step causing my pulse to kick up a little. He assumes the open spot beside me, draping his arm along the back of the couch. He leans toward me, his scent wafting into my nostrils, a natural aphrodisiac that has me wanting to burrow my nose into the crook of his neck.
“What do you know about those two?” he asks in a low voice.
“Not much.” I fidget with my hands, the huskiness in his tone and lust in his eyes unnerving me. I hate not being able to read this man, one whom I once thought I knew as well as my own boyfriend at the time. Maybe even better. “Chloe mentioned she kept running into some guy all weekend. At the club. Then the restaurant bar. Then in the elevator this morning. Up until you introduced him to her, she didn’t even know his name.”
He lifts a single brow. “She didn’t?”
“No. She didn’t. Even though when I walked into the lobby to meet her, she was a breath away from kissing him.”
He pulls back, tilting his head. “They’ve kissed?”
“Almost. But some drunk college kids bumped into her before they could seal the deal, so to speak.”
“She was willing to kiss him without knowing his name?”
“Does a name really matter if you have a connection?” I push my hair behind my ear.
I should stop, knowing my words may very well spark Asher’s guilt and pull him back. My guilt is pulling me back, too. But if I don’t say it now, I’ll always wonder what if. I’ve suffered through years of what if. No more.
“Does anything really matter if you feel a connection? Especially when finding someone you click with seems to be such a rarity these days. Maybe that’s why so many relationships fail. They let all the outside noise cloud what they know can be an amazing thing. They let all the reasons they shouldn’t be together overpower the one reason they should.”
“And what would that be?”
“That they feel something.”
He peers deep into my eyes. I physically feel the indecision, the contradicting desires tugging him in two different directions. One keeping him firmly in place, reminding him who I am. The other pushing him forward, imploring him to take a leap of faith. No matter what he chooses, he risks losing something. It’s just a matter of what’s more important.
When he tears his gaze from mine, his head hanging as he shakes it, I know the answer. In a sense, I’ve always known.
I’m about to excuse myself to find my own beer to drown myself in when his soft voice stops me.
“You’re right.”
I raise my eyes to his, my pulse gradually increasing as he reaches for my face. The seconds stretch to an eternity in anticipation of the touch of his hand against my skin. When I feel the subtle brush of his fingers, I sigh. It’s such an innocent contact, but I love the roughness of his flesh on mine. The callouses on his fingertips from hours of playing guitar make me feel alive. More alive than I’ve ever been.
“I guess nothing else should matter.” He pushes a tendril of hair behind my ear.
I lick my lips, eyes focused on his deep orbs. His gaze shifts to my mouth, pupils darkening. I notice the tightening of his muscles, his chest heaving a little more, jaw clenching and unclenching.
“But that’s not the case, is it?” I squeak out as he closes the distance between us.
“One second, I tell myself it doesn’t matter. That nothing else matters.” He runs the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. His caress is so soft, barely noticeable, but the way every inch of me ignites, you’d think he were touching the most intimate parts of my body, my mind, my soul.
“And the next?”
“The next, I’m reminded of what’s at stake.”
I expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. So I keep going. “And what is at stake?”
“Everything,” he admits, his voice becoming harsher, almost like a growl. “But you know what they say, don’t you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t.”
“The worse the odds, the bigger the reward.”
“And what do you hope to be your reward?” Hypnotized, I inch closer, his breath dancing on my lips. Like Asher, I may regret this tomorrow. Hell, I may regret it in just a few minutes, but I need to stop worrying about the future. I need to just live in the moment. After all, I’m in Vegas, a city where everyone lives in the moment.
“Everything I never knew I always wanted.” He pauses, then adds, “Actually, that’s a lie.”
He flashes his breathtaking smile. I push down the thought that it’s so similar to Jessie’s, apart from the dimples. Perfect white teeth framed with full, luscious lips.
His grip on my face tightening, he digs his fingers into my scalp, the raw need in the way he holds me making my hunger for him grow. “Deep down, a part of me always wanted this, but I just needed a reminder of what I’d lose if I let the chance slip away again.”
“And what was that reminder?”
“Feeling you in my arms last night, Isabella.” He runs a lithe finger down the curve of my face. I close my eyes, savoring the delicious tremor his touch causes. “Nothing ever felt so…perfect.” He pinches my chin, bringing my lips closer to his. So close. So warm. So wanted. “You are perfect.”
I hold my breath, bracing for him to consume every part of me.
One minute, he’s on the cusp of kissing me. The next, there’s a vacancy where he once was, his touch gone.
“Shit,” he curses.
I fling my eyes open, disoriented. Everything seems darker than it was mere seconds ago. Asher jumps up from the couch, stalking away from me, and my heart sinks. I’m ready to berate him for all these fucked-up games he’s been playing. Before I can, his distressed voice interrupts me.
“We must have blown a fuse.”
My mouth snaps shut as I scan the back yard. Now I know why everything seems darker. It wasn’t Asher’s confusing mood that cast a shadow over us. It’s because the power’s off.
I stand to join him as he stares down at the pool, the lights illuminating the depths gone. As are all the lights on the patio, the entire back yard dark. Looking to the house, we realize it’s also devoid of any light.
“How?”
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I’ll go check.” He squeezes my arm, then places a soft kiss on my temple. It’s a crappy consolation prize, considering I was hoping for more, but it’ll have to do…for now.
“I’ll come with you to make sure Chloe’s okay.” I catch up to his lon
g strides with ease.
“Oh, I’m sure she’s more than okay.” He waggles his brows as he holds the door for me, allowing me to step into the darkened house first, the entire place eerily still.
Asher rests a protective hand on my lower back, ushering me toward the kitchen island. It’s probably a good thing, considering the layout of the house is as foreign as the Palace of Versailles.
“Lincoln seems to have disappeared, too.” He rummages through a drawer by the sink, finding a flashlight. “Think he’s helping Chloe slip into something more…comfortable?” He flicks on the flashlight, which illuminates the devious grin on his face.
“It is Vegas after all.” I spin from him, heading in the direction of the staircase I can barely make out in the stream of light. As I approach the bottom step, I glance over my shoulder. “If you can’t sin a little here, where can you?”
He catches up to me as I ascend the staircase with timid steps. “Is that what you want?” His husky voice causes the hairs on my nape to stand on end, a rush of desire pooling in my core. “To sin a little?” He narrows his gaze on mine as we crest the top of the stairs.
Emboldened, I come to a stop, angling into him. I don’t move for several long seconds, sensing his composure crack, that vein in his neck throbbing with suppressed want. “Play your cards right and maybe you’ll find out.” I allow my words to float around him for a beat before I continue down the hallway, Asher following. I can almost taste the lust in the air between us. Tonight is about to get a lot more interesting, especially if the lights don’t come back on.
Approaching Chloe’s room, I notice the door is ajar. I round the corner, figuring she would have closed it if she were getting it on with Lincoln.
“There you are!” I say, heading toward where she stands by the window, still in her bathing suit. Apparently, she has been too preoccupied to change. When Lincoln walks out of the ensuite bathroom, I stop in my tracks. “Both of you.”
“Did we blow a fuse?” Chloe asks, averting her eyes, fidgeting with her hair. Which is the Chloe tell that she’s been doing something, or someone, she’d rather I didn’t find out about.
