I poke my head out of the bathroom. “My image is perfectly fine.”
He responds, but I can’t quite make out what he says. It sounds an awful lot like, “Yes, if you’re the crazy cat lady who knits ugly sweaters and works at the library in her spare time.”
Of course, I turn and face the bathroom mirror. “I don’t see anything wrong with my appearance,” I argue.
Chase is suddenly behind me, staring at me in the reflection of the glass. He puts his finger under my chin and holds my head still.
“Really? You don’t see anything wrong with this?”
I frown. “No. My makeup is subtle, my hair is…Well, not quite as nice as it was before we got on the plane, but I look professional.”
“Nice? That’s what you call this thing on your head?” He tugs at the bun. “You look like you have a fucking headache.”
“Huh?”
The next thing I know, Chase is pulling the pins out of my hair.
“What are you doing?” I screech. I would pull away, but it’ll only make it worse. “It took me twenty minutes to get that right.”
“Total waste of time,” he mutters beneath his breath.
I can do nothing more than stand there and watch as he unwinds my hair, then settles it over my shoulders, fluffing it as he goes. I’m tempted to laugh as I imagine Chase as a hairdresser. His giant hands teasing and poofing some woman’s hair.
“There. Much better.”
His eyes meet mine in the mirror.
I admit, I look better with my hair down. But it isn’t the professional appearance I’m striving for.
“Now you look hot.”
I glance up into Chase’s eyes. “Hot?”
He nods and I can’t help but think we’re having a moment. It feels slightly uncomfortable, but not completely awkward. The way he’s looking at me…
I shake it off and reach for my hair. “I’m not aiming for hot, Chase. I want to look qualified.”
He steps to my side and stares down at me. “You think that…the twisty thing”—he motions toward the back of my head with his hand—“makes you look qualified? It makes you look uptight. Unapproachable.”
I would be offended if this were anyone but Chase. He doesn’t say it in a negative manner. There’s no heat in his words, only amusement. I know he truly believes what he’s trying to get at. Plus, he said I look hot. It’s good to hear that sometimes.
“It does not,” I counter.
“It does.”
What is it with all the people in my life wanting to argue like we’re in first grade?
“Whatever.”
I reach for my hair to put it back up, but Chase stops me. “Leave it down, Cass. You can be hot and qualified at the same time.”
Dropping my hands to my sides, I give up. There’s no point in arguing with Chase.
He always wins.
Chapter 12
Chase
Well…shit.
I think I need a little air.
Or a drink.
Both would be fucking stellar right about now.
I’m not sure what the fuck just happened back there in that bathroom, but for a second or two I might have been damned tempted to kiss my best friend.
Kiss.
Her.
What the fuck?
All this time I’ve managed to keep my distance from this woman and two minutes in Vegas and I’m ready to—
“Are you hungry?” Cassie calls out, her voice muffled by the walls that separate us. I can hear her putting things on the counter in the bathroom, likely spreading her shit out the way she always does. She’s got a system, I know it. Even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone but her.
Am I hungry? Depends on what she’s offering because right now I’m starving. Unfortunately, my appetite has absolutely nothing to do with food. And isn’t that a swift kick in the gonads. I’ve known this woman for a long-ass time and I’ve always been able to resist.
Now, when it comes to fantasizing, that’s a completely different story. But those are fantasies. And I know the difference between them and reality.
Maybe at some point back in the very beginning I might have had a fleeting thought that Cassie and I could get together. However, Cassie quickly put a damper on my hope when she put me in my place all those years ago. So, no, I haven’t given it a serious thought since then.
But now…Fucking hell. I can’t stop thinking about it.
“I could eat!” I yell back, grateful that my phone rings.
I pull it from my pocket and glance at the screen. It’s Chief. Thank fuck. The man has impeccable timing.
“What’s up, old man?” I greet him, smiling.
“Old man?” he snorts. “I’ll have you know, I feel like a spring chicken.”
“Now that I think about it, you kinda look like a chicken.”
“I’ve always thought so.” He chuckles. “So tell me, what’s going on in Vegas?”
“Not a damn thing, yet.”
“And to think, you’ve been there, what? An hour. It’s a shame you haven’t gotten yourself in trouble yet.”
Little does he know.
“I’m plotting, trust me.”
“How’s Cass?”
I think about how fucking sexy the woman looked when I took her hair down. I close my eyes. “Good. She’s…approachable.”
“Huh?”
I laugh, but it comes out sounding strangled. “Nothing. You know her, she’s working.”
“All work and no play. That sounds about right. Well, I wanted to check in on you. Now Dad wants to talk to you. Hang on. Love you, kid.”
“Love you, too, Chief.”
There’s some muffled sound in the phone and I assume that’s Chief passing it over.
Dad’s surprisingly chipper voice comes over the line. “So, what’s Vegas like? See any mobsters yet?”
Although Chief has visited Vegas—he admits it was long before he settled down and had a family—Dad has never been out here. If he had been here, he would realize that it isn’t like it was portrayed in movies like The Godfather. Not anymore, anyway.
“Not yet,” I admit. “But I’ll keep my eye out for some. Try to grab you a picture. Maybe an autograph.”
My father chuckles. “No need. I wouldn’t want to find myself on their radar. Or you either.”
He honestly believes this. “Cool. Then I’ll just high-five ’em and be on my way.”
“You do that. You going to see any shows?”
“Doubtful. I think Cass has to work most of the time.”
“So why’d you tag along?”
“She needed arm candy.”
A full belly-rumbling laugh comes through my phone. “Arm candy? Haven’t heard you called that yet.”
“I hear it all the time.” I don’t, but hey, it’s fun to screw with the old man.
“All right, kid. We just wanted to make sure you both made it, don’t want to keep you. Tell Cass hello for us and call us when you get back to Texas.”
“Will do. Later.”
I hang up the phone and stare out the window. To be honest, Las Vegas isn’t all that attractive during the day. Night is a different story.
“Who were you talking to?” Cassie asks from behind me.
I turn to face her, doing my best not to look her over from head to toe. I’m not sure what the hell my problem is, but I get the feeling I’m giving away far too much right now. I need to rein it in before I do something really stupid.
“My dads,” I tell her, turning back to look out the window.
“How’re they doing?”
“They sound good. Happy.”
“We should plan to get up there again before the season starts. Then maybe for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Whichever one you can get away for.”
Yeah. We should. Cassie is all about family and we usually go together when we visit, so her request isn’t unusual. However, something feels off about us right now and I don’t know how to describe
it.
“So…” I turn to face her once more. She’s fluffing out her hair and I have the sudden urge to slide my fingers back into it so I can feel how soft it is. And it is soft. I know firsthand, although I shouldn’t. I never should have touched her. Damn it.
“I think I need to get laid,” I muse aloud.
Cassie laughs. “Probably. It’s been what? A week? Two?”
I don’t bother to tell her that it’s been months since I’ve banged a chick. After January, the hockey schedule gets fairly gruesome and it takes all my energy just to keep up. Since we’d been close to making the playoffs this year, I had given my all to the game. And since then, I’ve been focused on not thinking too much about anything. Which takes effort. And it also means I haven’t had time for a woman.
Now that I think about it…
Damn. No wonder I’m letting things get out of hand. I haven’t had sex in six fucking months. No. No way that’s right. Is it? How the hell did that happen?
“Well, we’ll go out tonight. I’m sure you’ll find some chick to hook up with.”
I nod, pretending this is a great idea.
As is usually the case when I’m with Cassie, the idea of screwing some nameless woman isn’t high on my priority list right now.
In fact, the only woman I can think about is her.
Shit.
I’m in so much fucking trouble.
Cassie
When I told Chase that we would go out tonight, I knew he would hold me to it. After spending a large part of the afternoon verifying that rooms were booked, equipment was delivered, and details were handled for the various conferences, I sort of owed it to him anyway.
Not that I really mind. Going out isn’t the first thing I think of when I’m planning my evening, but I can’t deny that it’s always a good time. Especially when I go with Chase or Natalie. And tonight is no exception. Part of me is glad that Natalie isn’t here, although I miss her dearly. However, it’s enough to have Chase hounding me about which guy I should go talk to.
“What about that one?” Chase casually nods his head toward the other side of the bar.
I take a sip of my wine and peek at this new prospect. I instantly shake my head. “No, thanks.”
“Why not?” Chase turns to face me fully.
“He’s not my type.”
Chase’s dark eyebrows rise in disbelief. Before he can say anything, the bartender comes by.
“Can we get two shots of Patrón?”
“What are you doing, Chase?” No way am I doing shots with this man. It usually results in me not being able to walk.
“Loosening you up.”
“I’m plenty loose,” I argue, realizing that I’m talking a little too loud. I feel my face heat when several heads turn my way.
The bartender places the shot glasses in front of us, and I shake my head in disbelief. Chase picks one up and nods toward the bar. Knowing that Chase will simply make a scene if I don’t comply, I grab the other.
“To an interesting night,” he says, grinning wickedly.
“To an interesting night,” I echo, then toss back my shot.
Fire shoots through my sinuses and into my gut. I do my best not to choke as the heat roars through me. I have absolutely no idea why Chase likes this stuff.
“Okay,” Chase states firmly. “Time to get serious.”
If I speak, flames are going to come out of my mouth, so I take a sip of wine to cool things down while Chase turns his stern gaze on me.
“Are you ready?”
No. No, I am not.
I have to change the subject. If I don’t, Chase is going to have me in a boring conversation with one of these pretentious men that I have absolutely no desire to talk to. I glance around, desperate for something that will take the heat off me. That’s when I see them.
I jerk my chin toward the end of the bar. “Is that…?”
“A hooker?” Chase finishes for me. “Since I was wondering the same thing, my best guess is yes.”
I’ve been to Vegas plenty of times and I’m familiar with seeing the ladies of the night waltzing up to a man inside of a casino. Sometimes it’s blatantly obvious, others not so much. Occasionally, the man appears unsuspecting, but more often than not, he’s clearly waiting for her. Tonight’s rendezvous appears to be one of the scheduled types.
“So…” I grin at my best friend. “Is he married?”
Chase signals the bartender, then casually moves to my other side. I don’t know how he does it, but the man always seems to be so blasé, so unsuspecting. He leans a forearm on the bar and moves closer to me. Close enough that I can smell his cologne. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the one I bought him for Christmas last year. I’d instantly fallen in love with the scent when I was searching for the perfect gift, but let me just say, the mixture of the cologne and Chase is what they should have been going for. It would have sold like wildfire.
“I’d definitely say married,” Chase notes.
The bartender returns with two more shots. I realize that my night is going to go downhill fast. It’s just a good thing that I don’t have to be up early tomorrow. Our first conference meeting on Friday isn’t until ten, which will give me some time to sleep off the effects of the booze.
“Why do you think that?” I stare at the man, trying to figure out what Chase sees. The guy’s relatively attractive, if not a little thin. He’s not wearing a ring, so his marital status isn’t quite clear to me.
“See the way he keeps rubbing his thumb over his ring finger?” Chase asks.
I glance down at the man’s hand. It takes a few seconds, but sure enough, the guy seems to be absently rubbing the spot where a ring likely resides.
“Okay. So what’s the hookup for?” I ask because I’m curious.
“I’m going to say that he’s here on business and…” Chase tips back the shot the bartender delivers, then glances down at me. “Nine, maybe ten years of marriage. He’s got three kids, the youngest is probably two. Little girl, completely spoiled. His wife stays at home since he makes good money as…” Chase casts a quick look down the bar once more. “A software engineer.”
I laugh. “Whatever.”
“For real. The last time he had sex with his wife was on their anniversary. Four or five months ago. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but he considered himself lucky. I mean, pussy’s pussy, right?”
“Apparently for him it is.” I dart my eyes toward the hooker standing with him.
“He’s particular to blowjobs, but the wifey isn’t interested. She pretended to be when they were dating, but now the only time he gets his knob polished with her tongue is on his birthday and every other Christmas.”
I chuckle. I can totally picture it. I’m not sure what that says about me, but there it is.
I love when Chase does this. We’ve gone out numerous times and he has no qualms about fictitiously depicting some unsuspecting person’s life. Chase isn’t partial to men either. He’ll easily break down a woman’s history, coming up with some absurd reasons for her doing what she’s doing. It’s the very reason we made a game of it.
“So, I take it he prefers redheads?” I’m not sure if that’s her real hair color or not.
“Usually blondes. The wife’s brunette. Tonight’s menu was limited.”
“What’s his plan for the evening?”
“He’s not willing to go to dinner. He does that often enough with his secretary.”
“I was thinking he was having a fling with one of his subordinates,” I offer.
“Nope, definitely the secretary. The new one. Old one ran off with a younger man with a bigger…paycheck.”
Perusing the people at the bar, I find another couple. “What about them? What’s their story?”
Chase repositions himself and I realize there’re two more shot glasses sitting in front of us. I didn’t even see him signal the bartender. Then again, knowing Chase, he told the guy to keep them coming. I’m already feeling a tad lighthe
aded, but it’s nice. I need to relax and I have to admit, this is a good way to do it.
Chapter 13
Because people are curious, I asked Chase what his liquor of choice is. He informed me that he goes for Patrón Silver when possible. Straight shots, no mixing. When I asked why, he told me, “If you’re drinking, you’re doing it for a reason. My reason is to get a buzz and to know that I’m getting it. Tequila will do the job.”
—Excerpt from Sports Unlimited’s Bad Boys of Sports edition
Chase
One more shot of tequila and it’s possible I’ll be on my ass.
Cassie and I have spent the last three hours making up stories about the people in this hotel bar. It’s been interesting and the best part is that it’s kept my mind off the fact that I’m desperate to feel Cassie’s lips on mine.
Nope. That stupid fucking fantasy hasn’t taken a hiatus yet.
And no amount of hot women shooting me seductive looks has lessened it any either. Trust me, I’ve tried to find interest in a couple of them. Hot-ass women wearing barely there dresses is what I’m about.
Except tonight, there’s only one hot-ass woman wearing a barely there dress that I’m even remotely interested in and she just so happens to be my best friend. Someone needs to let my dick know that mixing friendship with pleasure is not a good combination.
It’s time for me to kick this shit up a notch. I need to get Cassie interested in some blowhard in this bar so I can really put some effort into finding some chick to mingle with. If I don’t, I sincerely see this night going down a very dark, very winding road. One I won’t be able to find my way back from.
“What about him?” I jerk my chin in the direction of a guy who’s been eyeing Cassie for the past couple of hours. He’s not particularly attractive, but he’s not butt-ass ugly either. Maybe a little desperate, considering I’ve been here with Cassie since he showed up. Or perhaps he’s merely overconfident, thinking I’m not competition.
“Who? Him?” She practically points in the guy’s direction and I reach for her hand, stilling it.
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