by T. K. Leigh
“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 illuminati
ng 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 long 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.
“I don’t know.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Did you?”
“I don’t think it was a fuse,” Lincoln interrupts, joining Chloe by the window.
Everyone looks in his direction, following his line of sight. After watching the sunrise with Asher last night, I’m more than aware of what the view out that window should be. Instead of seeing the bright lights of the Vegas Strip, there’s nothing, the only lights that of cars meandering along the streets. Everything else is barren. Deserted. Empty.
“Like I said,” Lincoln continues as we all congregate around him, staring at a scene that’s reminiscent of a post-apocalyptic horror film, minus the zombies feeding on human brains. “I don’t think it was a fuse.”
Chapter Ten
“Okay, so what are the rules here?” Chloe asks after we’ve all settled back outside.
With no power, it was the most logical place to congregate, considering we have the fire pit to offer us heat and light. It’s another reminder of my few summers at Grams’ lake house. While there was electricity, that’s where the amenities ended. No cable. No internet. No cell service. Our only form of communication with the outside world was a landline Grams put in for emergencies. I’d often hated returning to civilization, wanting to go back to how simple things were at the lake. Jessie seemed to careen down the narrow roads at breakneck speed to get back to the point where our cell service would kick in.
“I’ve never played the board game version of this.” Her expression instantly brightens. “There’s one. Never have I ever played the board game version of Never Have I Ever! Do I get a point or something? Or maybe I just win game night outright and we can stop this torture?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re having fun and you know it.”
She bites her lower lip, looking from me to Lincoln. “Maybe.”
“That’s what I thought.” I catch Asher’s eyes as he sits beside me. There’s a hint of amusement and curiosity in them while he observes me in silence. An artist studying his subject, unearthing every crevice, every valley, every subtle imperfection in order to paint her with painstaking detail. I wonder if that’s what he’s doing. If he’s writing a song in his head. He has that look about him. Excitement. Concentration. Inspiration. I like the idea of being Asher’s inspiration. His muse. The Marianne Faithful to his Mick Jagger. A much younger and more attractive Mick Jagger.
“So… The rules?” Chloe’s voice cuts through.
I snap my attention back to her, ignoring the smirk drawn on her face. “It’s pretty straightforward. You roll this die.” I pick it up, showing it to everyone. “On each side is a symbol that corresponds to a category on the cards.” I grab one from the stack to demonstrate. “Whatever you roll is what you have to say. So if I roll this male and female symbol, which is the sex and dating category, I have to say ‘Never have I ever ditched a date after the first ten minutes.’ If I haven’t, I move my game piece forward. If I have, I take a drink. The first person to cross the finish line wins.”
“Have you played this before?” she inquires.
“I didn’t even know they’d made a board game out of it until I saw it in the game room.”
“Then how did you know how to play?”
I grab the rule sheet out of the box and wave it in front of her. “I read the directions. Not exactly rocket science.” I pass her a sardonic smile, then return my attention to our assembled group. “Okay. Who’s first?”
“Since this was your lame idea, you should go first,” Chloe suggests with playful arrogance.
Passing her a smug grin, I say, “Never have I ever ditched my date after the first ten minutes.” I grab my beer and take a sip, indicating I have, in fact, done just that.
“You need to roll and pick a new card,” Chloe insists.
“After you tell me all about the poor schmuck you ditched,” Asher chimes in.
“Why? So you can tell me I should have given him a bit longer?”
“No.” His gaze remains locked on me as he slowly shakes his head. “So I know what not to do.” He clears his throat as he nervously glances around our little circle. “You know. Research. For a song maybe.”
“Really?”
“Why not?” His lips quirk up into a mischievous grin. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of the sparkle in his dark eyes as they look upon me with wanton affection.
“Stop cheating and roll,” Chloe admonishes.
“Fine.” I grab the die and toss it onto the table. It lands on a symbol of the earth, which means the subject could be anything. Taking a card off the top of the pile, I read the corresponding phrase. “Never have I ever gone streaking.” Rolling my eyes, I grab a red game piece and move it forward a square. “Well, that’s an easy one because it’s never happened. Who’s next?”
“I’ll go,” Asher pipes up, reaching for the die.
Chloe whistles when it lands on the symbol for sex and dating. “I have a feeling this is going to get interesting fast.”
“You and me both,” I mutter.
Asher chuckles when he reads the phrase off the card. “Never have I ever kissed a celebrity. Yeah. Definitely haven’t done that.” He takes his green game piece and pushes it forward a spot.
“You mean you haven’t gotten in on some of the orgies Fallen Grace is rumored to host?” Chloe jokes.
He looks up at her, brows scrunched. “Is that re
ally a rumor?”
“Fallen Grace fans aren’t our target audience, but I keep a finger on all celebrity gossip. Rumor is two of the guys are gay and in a relationship with each other.”
“Do I want to ask which two?” He leans back, brushing his thumb against his bottom lip, which makes me salivate, remembering how he’d caressed my lip like that.
Chloe squints, trying to pull some names out of her memory. I have no idea how she keeps all these celebrities straight. How she remembers who’s dating whom, who’s in whatever band, who’s starring in whatever movie. Then again, she says the same thing about my line of work, amazed at how much I do as a nurse.
“I think Mason and Ellis.”
Asher chokes on his beer, coughing a few times. “Mason and Ellis?” he grinds out, clearing his throat. “Did you seriously say Mason and Ellis are rumored to be gay and into each other?”
“Again, this isn’t my area of expertise, so—”
Asher chuckles. “They are not gay.” His laughter grows, his face reddening, tears dotting the corners of his eyes. I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard him laugh like this. “Actually, none of the guys are, but Mason and Ellis? They’re so far from being gay, they’re not even in the same hemisphere.” He draws in a deep breath to get his laughter under control. “Not that being gay’s a bad thing. In my opinion, love is love, no matter who it’s between. Well, within reason. Those child brides being forced to marry some sixty-year-old dude is disconcerting, but that’s beside the point. Trust me. With the number of women Mason and Ellis bring back here, you’d think they were considering starting their own brothel.”
“So no wedding bells between them in the future?” Chloe presses.
“Certainly not. Now, who’s next?” He looks around the circle.
“I think Chloe should go,” I offer.
“This ought to be good,” Lincoln interjects, having remained silent during the rest of our exchange.
His aloof attitude reminds me of Asher. They both have a mysteriousness about them. An analytical way they observe the world around them, carefully selecting their words before saying anything.
