by Schiller, MK
There are two aces on the community cards. I’m pretty sure from the way he bets, Joker has the third. Everyone else folds except for Lou, Nan, Joker, and of course, my guppy. It’s time for the showdown. Lou is two suited. Nan has shit. Joker’s got a full house, but with a ten high. No ace. What? Where’s the other fucking ace? Someone has to have the nuts.
Emma lays it down. Holy shit, the girl’s got the nuts. The best possible hand.
Fucking brilliant.
She turns to Joker. Even her condescending tone is too sweet to be a true burn. “See, I win because even though we both have full houses, mine is an ace high, but yours is a ten. Aces are higher than tens.”
She gathers up all her chips.
“You’re not even going to let me win my money back?” Joker asks.
Emma shakes her head. “First rule of poker…always leave the table hot.”
Lou cracks up, slapping his knee. “In that case, Nan should have left twenty years ago.”
“And you should never have been here in the first place, Lou,” Nan shoves right back at him.
We share a quick laugh, but this is not the kind of place you wallow. They don’t take your picture and offer to comp your room here. I place my hand on Emma’s back, leading her to the cashier.
Once we’re outside, she offers me the happiest smile. I can’t help myself. I lift her up and spin her around. “Girl, you got some balls.”
“Holy shit, Aiden. Did that really happen?”
“I got a stack of cash that says it did.” I hand it over to her.
She pushes it back to me. “You keep it. It’s your money.”
“At least take your winnings.”
She shakes her head. “Use it for the trip. I’ve been struggling with everything you’re paying for. This will make me feel better.”
I consider another argument, but the look on her face tells me it will be useless. I shove the money back into my wallet. “Okay, then. We’re gonna spend it all and stay at some nice places.”
“Sounds good to me.”
A thought occurs to me. “Hey, were you bluffing the whole time?” I peer closely at her. “Were you hustling up there?”
In the bright Vegas lights, I can see the faintest pink blush across her chest. That tell is just for me.
“Actually, I lost the first few hands because of dumb mistakes. They saw those and used them against me. That last hand was part luck and part strategy—turning around my own tells.”
“Whatever it was, I’m glad I got to see it.”
“This was fun. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”
“For me, too, Cooper.”
We walk back to the hotel. As I drop her off at the door, there’s an awkward moment that feels like the end of a date. I want to kiss her. Hell, I want her to invite me in. We both stare at each other. Her lips still have gloss on them…I think it’s cherry or maybe strawberry. They are pretty lips—pouty, soft, and parted.
“I should call Kenneth and tell him,” she says. “He’s never going to believe this.” It feels like someone just hosed me with freezing cold water.
“Kent’s a douchebag.”
“Kenneth…two syllables.” She emphasizes them both for my benefit. “And what did you say?”
“You heard me. He’s not there for you when you need him. For every three texts you send him, he sends one.”
Her eyes narrow. “Nice of you to keep track, especially since you can’t even remember his name.”
“Question is why aren’t you keeping track? Did you tell him about me? About this…trip?”
“Of course I did.”
“Then he’s an even bigger fool than I thought, letting you go with me.”
“He trusts me.”
I move closer to her. “He should not trust me.”
“Can you stop being so mean?”
“Mean? I’m in awe of you, Emma. But what I cannot understand is how a girl who is this smart can act so fucking dumb. Why don’t you see what I do? You don’t go all-in on a losing hand.”
She shoves me. “Go away, Aiden. You’re being a jerk. I had the best time tonight, and you’re ruining it.”
She opens her door and slams it in my face before I can even get a grip on what I’ve done.
I lean my head against the door, wanting to call out to her, to explain myself, even though I don’t understand what I’m trying to say, either.
But I don’t, because playing with chips you can’t afford is a rookie mistake.
Chapter Fourteen
Emma
Why is the phone ringing at six in the morning? Surely, someone is trying to torture me. I pick it up and the voice on the other end is irritatingly cheery. Yep…torture.
“Come down to breakfast, Cooper.”
“I’m already mad at you, Aiden. Now you’re waking me up at some ungodly hour.”
“I’m sorry about last night.”
“You’re not forgiven.” Even as I say it, I cannot summon the anger I want. It’s hard to be mad at someone for echoing your own thoughts.
“So, don’t forgive me. Not yet, anyway. But don’t miss out on breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day. Let’s make amends over some chow.”
“Not good enough.”
“It’s an all-you-can-eat buffet.” He says it in a singsong voice.
Well, that’s promising. “Tell me more.”
“It has everything you could want, from bacon to shrimp. Shrimp for breakfast.”
I yawn loudly. “Doesn’t sound that awesome.”
“There is a chocolate fountain.”
Now I sit up. “Go on.”
“You can fondue stuff. There’s cookies, brownies, and cake.”
“What else?”
“Okay, wait for it… Carrot cake French toast with apple filling.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh. It’s made to order, too. So come down. Today’s my cheat day, so I can eat anything I want. Come and cheat with me.”
I should check him on the double-entendre, but the ante is too high.
“Fine. I’ll come down, but I need to get dressed.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I get up and haul myself to the shower. He can wait a long time for all I care. The French toast will still be there, and check-out isn’t for a few hours anyway. I spend so much time under really hot water that my skin prunes up. I put my hair up in a messy bun and drag on a pair of jeans, a blue tank top, and flip-flops. I passive-aggressively waste a great deal of time to all these tasks.
By the time I get downstairs, he’s sitting at a table shuffling a card deck. He stands when I approach. He’s wearing a maroon shirt, rolled at the sleeves, and dark jeans. His hair is damp and he smells like sin. Guess what? Sin smells delicious. No one should look this good this early.
“Hey, you look nice today,” he says, a huge grin on his face as he pulls out a chair for me.
“Shut up,” I say.
He sits, flashing me one of his sly smiles, the one that’s two parts naughty with a hint of nice. I’m sure it’s a recipe for a disaster. “Your hair looks pretty like that. Do you just wrap it and pile it on top of your head?” He does some sort of circular movement with his hand in a lame attempt to visualize the steps.
“Yep, it’s a fun bun.”
“Oh, it has a name.”
“I really don’t think you want to discuss my messy bun.”
“I thought it was a fun bun?”
“It’s both. Let’s eat.”
“First we should talk.” He slides a plate holding a doughnut with pink glaze and colorful sprinkles in front of me. “My peace offering. I had to go through a lot for this.”
“Didn’t you get it from the buffet?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, you shouldn’t have gone through so much trouble. I mean, taking a plate and walking five feet and all.”
Aiden laughs so loudly several people turn in our direction. “Y
ou don’t understand. It was the last one up there. I had to battle it out with a kid.”
“You fought a kid for a doughnut?”
“Damn straight. But I didn’t fight her. I bribed her with a five-dollar chip. I really wanted to save this doughnut for you.”
“Why?”
“It’s your birthday doughnut.”
“Is that a thing?”
“If it’s not, it should be.”
I try not to smile, but my mouth pulls up anyway.
He pulls the plate away, just before I pick it up. He swipes his hand through the air. “Wait, there’s more.”
I laugh, because he’s doing a really cheesy impression of infomercial sales guy. He drops a votive candle in the hole of the doughnut and lights it. The same kind of candle they have at this very restaurant during dinner. I have to admit, it is an ingenious idea.
“Now you have to make a wish.”
“Look at all this trouble you went to,” I say with an extra dollop of sarcasm.
“You’re worth it, Cooper.”
I close my eyes and blow out the flame.
“What did you wish for?”
“That you wouldn’t ask me that question.”
“Funny, smart-ass.”
I split the doughnut in half between us.
“I’m sorry, Emma. I shouldn’t have said those things. It’s none of my business. I’m sure Keifer’s a good guy.”
I slap my hands on the table. “Kenneth! Seriously dude, how do you even get Keifer from Kenneth? How?”
“Sorry, my mistake.”
He waits, inhaling his half of my birthday doughnut. Then he slowly rips the label from his juice. I haven’t seen Aiden nervous. I don’t think it happens very often. I let him wait. I relish my doughnut, taking small bites and licking my lips. While I do, I notice that, even in Vegas, where there are endless buffets for the eyes, all the girls and some boys pause as they go by, drinking him in as if he’s the tastiest dish in the place.
“C’mon, talk to me,” he finally says.
“You may be able to buy my affection with pastry, but my forgiveness is another story.”
“But there’s even more, Emma.”
“Don’t go spoiling me now.”
“I got you a gift. I have to warn you, it’s shiny and heavy. You’re gonna look great next to it.”
Okay, this took a turn. I really don’t want a gift. The dress, as gorgeous as it is, makes me feel awkward enough. It is too expensive and intimate to begin with.
He reaches under the table and takes out a square, wrapped package, which he places front of me. Well, I guess you could call it “wrapped” if paper napkins from the restaurant count. Straw wrappers twine together to hold it all in place. One is shaped into a bow and sits on top of the package.
I place a hand over my chest. “Ooo, fancy.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, I figured you’d appreciate the small touches.”
I unfold it as if it’s the most intricate wrapping paper I’ve ever seen.
“A glass, and look, you even got it engraved,” I say, holding it next to me, gesturing like a game show hostess.
“With the hotel’s logo, no less. Use it in good health.”
I crack up, all my anger dissipating. He gets me…and I’m not an easy girl to get. “Do other girls appreciate your warped sense of humor?”
Aiden’s eyes darken and the humor leaves his face. “To be honest, I didn’t think I had a sense of humor until I met you.”
The statement breaks my heart.
“You do. I’m glad I get to see it.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?”
I cross my arms. “Not sure.”
“Let me sweeten the deal.” He inches the table centerpiece toward me, a white vase with a few yellow roses popping out. “Flowers for the birthday girl.”
How can you not forgive a man who brings you flowers?
“You’re too generous.”
“Since you kept me waiting so long, I decided to use the time wisely.”
I reach across the table and jab my finger in his chest. “Hey, fun buns don’t just happen on their own, buddy.”
He puts his arms up like I’m arresting him. “No reason to attack me. I get it.”
“Okay, I forgive you. But no more trash talking my boyfriend.”
He holds his hand up. “I swear, I won’t say another word against Keanu.”
“Fuck you, Aiden.” I throw a straw wrapper at him.
“Sorry, Emma. Kenneth. I mean Kenneth.”
“Thank you.”
“Speaking of him, I think we should head to L.A. from here.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why? This is a big birthday, and you should spend it with people who care about you. We can resume the road trip tomorrow.”
The statement is bitter and sweet. Sweet he wants to take me to the people who care for me, and bitter because he doesn’t count himself in that number.
“It’s three hours out of the way.”
“More like two. We’ll be there this afternoon. We can spend the night, and leave in the morning. Just consider it a detour. You came to Vegas for me. I want to go to L.A. for you.”
“I enjoyed Vegas, too.”
“And I’ll enjoy L.A. Are you in?”
He slides his hand so our fingertips almost touch. I push mine the rest of the way.
“All-in.”
Chapter Fifteen
Aiden
Carson gives Emma a hug that lasts eight seconds longer than it should. “It was really nice meeting you, Emma. I only wish I could have shown you my Vegas.”
She smiles, but it’s not the same smile she uses with me. It’s her polite, friendly smile. There is no blushing for Carson, either.
She looks between the two of us. “I’ll let you boys say your good-byes.” I watch as she walks to the fountain in front of the hotel. She takes a seat on the concrete surrounding it and looks at her phone. She’s probably texting the dipshit. I refuse to utter his ridiculous name or any version of it.
“Hey, man, you still with me?” Carson asks, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
“Sorry,” I say, turning back to Carson, hoping he’s not gonna give me shit about Emma. “How was your night?”
“It sucked. The girl I met? She was something else. We get back to the hotel. Get this. She tells me”—he clears his throat for emphasis—“‘you fuck better than my boyfriend.’”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Swear it. So of course, I disengage my rocket right before blast off. The whole time I’m getting dressed, she’s crying me a river about how much she loves this guy, but it was Vegas that made her do it. I’m like, this isn’t a game of fucking tag, and my dick isn’t your safe zone. If you love him so much, why the hell are you fucking me? Bro code kicked in. You don’t take another man’s woman, no matter what the circumstance.”
Leave it to Carson to actually throw a moral in his fucked-up story. A moral I sorely need to heed myself.
“So you left?”
“Yep, me and my hard-on walked right out of that room.”
“I should get going. Great story, bro.”
He laughs and punches my arm. “I was just gonna ask how your night was. Hell, I do this gig just to hang with you.”
I tilt my head. “It has nothing to do with all the…perks?”
He laughs, his gaze turning toward the real-life version of Jessica Rabbit who strolls past us. Carson’s eyes almost turn animated, popping right out of their head. This time, I snap my fingers to get his attention. “Sorry, man, where was I?”
I scratch my chin as if I’m trying to recall. “You were talking about how you do this job just for me.”
He peels his eyes off the girl and back to me. “Okay…I see the irony of the situation. But it’s true. We usually troll the strip together. I missed my wing man.”
“Carson, that’s the biggest load of bullshit you’ve ever dropped o
n me. You’re my wingman, and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I did miss hanging with you last night.”
“You could have come with us.”
“Um…you say that now, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t invited.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I remember me distinctly saying, hey bro, where to tonight? And you said, I made plans with Emma.” In these scenarios, Carson changes his voice in an imitation of me. For whatever reason, I sound like a mix between the Hulk and Elmo.
“So?”
“And I was about to ask if I could tag along, but you shot me one of those I-can-bend-metal-in-my-hands looks. I decided to tread lightly.”
“Sorry man, I didn’t mean to blow you off.”
He turns toward Emma, who’s still staring at her phone. Her expression is almost wistful. “Speaking of pretty girls with dimpled smiles and hair the color of chestnut trees…”
“We weren’t speaking about that at all.”
“Come off it, man. I saw you two at dinner the other night. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out your private joke, dickhead.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He wiggles his brows. “Although I have to take away points for creativity, I do appreciate the humor.”
“Um…did someone drop something in your drink? I have no idea what you’re saying.”
“Eel is a codename for your dick.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or punch him. “Man, you’re so off base, you’re playing in a different stadium. It’s a fucking innocent joke between us.”
“Is it? There’s nothing innocent about the way you look at her.”
“What’s your point?”
“Your eyes wander to her wherever she is. I’ve never seen you do that with anyone.”
“What the hell’s wrong with you, man? I don’t look at her.” This whole conversation is giving me a sleazy stalker feeling. I’m getting a headache, and I just want Carson to shut the hell up.
He laughs one of his ‘gotcha’ laughs. “I can see this is fucked-up beyond all repair, because the whole time you’re telling me you don’t look at her, you’re staring straight at her. I don’t buy your bullshit, Sheffield.”
