“Okay, okay. You win,” I said, laughing.
“I always win.”
“No you don't.”
“Name the last time you won.”
“Last week when you bought your new pair of boots.” I shot a smug smile Jasper's way. “You wanted the distressed brown, I wanted you to get the black with steel on the toe. Who won?”
He grumbled as he turned onto another street that I directed him down.
“What was that? I couldn't hear you.” For emphasis, I cupped my hand around my ear.
“I said, that I went back and got the brown pair later on my way to work.”
“You did not!”
“I did too. They're hiding under the bed.”
“Chicken.”
“Brrr-ock.”
The strangled chicken noise was so awkward coming out of Jasper's mouth that I belly laughed. Bracing a boot against the dashboard, I gave in to the humor of the moment. “But I still won!”
“You temporarily won, and only because I let you.”
“You're so full of it.”
“Where am I going?”
“Don't change the subject,” I said, pointing to the next left turn.
He exhaled. Loudly.
“You'll find out when we get there.”
“Apparently. Does it involve topless dancers?”
“Only if you'd like to wind up in an early grave.”
“Ooh, the kitten has claws,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“You act like you're surprised when you're wearing at least eight claw marks down your back from this afternoon.”
He laughed. “All right, all right.”
“Does that mean I win again?”
“That means I agree. I think you took skin off.”
“Which means I win.”
“Agreeing is not winning, it's just agreeing.”
“Park in that parking lot.” Our destination was at hand. I pointed to a lot on the left.
“We're going down town, really?” He frowned but pulled into the parking lot, stopping to pay the attendant before finding an empty spot.
Climbing out of the Camaro, I banged the door closed and hitched up my jeans. “Just turn around and assume the position,” I said instead of answering him. We didn't go in for the rote of hand holding and clinging to each other like some couples did. Well—I didn't. Jasper never asked or took my hand unless it was a special circumstance. He'd learned long ago to avoid those kinds of romantic clichés with me.
He snorted but gave me his back.
I promptly hopped up, piggy-back style, while he looped his arms under my knees. He might snort and scoff and mutter, but he never really complained about my habit. In my estimation, this was much better than looping arms around each other's hips. I still got to be close without looking like we were siamese twins.
Carrying me effortlessly on his six-foot-four frame into the fray of pedestrian traffic, I guided him toward the Fremont Street Experience. The Fremont Street Experience was a light show displayed on an overhead canopy that spanned five blocks of downtown Vegas. Vehicular traffic had been barred from driving on what had now become a gathering spot for locals and tourists alike. People milled between The Golden Nugget and Binions, two of the prominent casinos on either side of the canopy. More people crowded the street further down as well, visiting vendors selling everything from nameplates to shot glasses to jewelry.
“I'm surprised you wanted to bring me here,” Jasper said over his shoulder. He had to shout to be heard once we got deeper into the heart of the street party. This was an area we usually avoided like the plague.
“You'll see why.” I lowered my head to speak near his ear, so I wouldn't have to shout in return. Guiding him past a row of scantily dressed showgirls, noting how several of the beauties stared at Jasper on the way, I pointed toward an outdoor area provided by one of the casinos with seating and access to drinks.
Waiting there, glasses already in hand, were four of Jasper's friends. Men I had only met a handful of months ago but had gotten to know better since then: Tyler, Landon, Dalton and Joshua. A ruckus broke out when they spotted us, and Jasper veered their way, laughing with surprised delight. He arched a look back at me and I lifted a shoulder, nonchalant, letting him know that I understood the 'guy thing' of hanging out and having a good time. It was his birthday, too, and I wanted him to be surrounded by people whose company he enjoyed. I didn't mind sharing him on his special day.
There was another reason we were here, a reason I hadn't let anyone in on. A surprise for Jasper that I knew he would love.
Settling into the outdoor seating, which provided a view of an outdoor stage where musicians sometimes performed, we made our rounds of hellos and ordered drinks of our own. I chose beer—Corona with lime—and slouched into the faux leather seat. Although I didn't drink much, or drink often, and absolutely loathed being around extremely drunk people, there were times I made an exception and imbibed a beer or two.
Jasper sat next to me, with his friends spread out on the other side. He ordered a beer as well, just one, and took long swigs from the bottle while we all got comfortable.
The sheer number of people wandering around the street—which had been permanently closed to house the canopy and shows—was staggering. As the hour grew closer to eleven, yet more people arrived on the scene, some attired in wild costumes and outrageous getups. I saw a half naked Gladiator, a bad Liberacé imitator and a skimpy Bo Peep costume. Skin was the preferred order of the night, however, with scantily clad women predominant over all else.
It wasn't until the third time a woman paused nearby that I realized, in my determination to not fall into the 'couple' rote of holding hands or sitting too close together, that most everyone thought Jasper was single. In years past, I used to tease and joke with Jasper whenever women came onto him; tonight, it got under my skin. The batting lashes, coy looks, and outright flirting grated on my patience until I found myself confronting a few of the women with blatant stares that should have let them know Jasper was off limits. The ladies ignored me as if I didn't exist. One dainty blonde in particular dared to approach the knee-high barrier between the street and the seating area, a foxy smile curving the red line of her lush mouth.
Instead of choosing any one of the other four men, she focused in on Jasper.
Of course.
“Hello there,” she said with a coquettish tilt of her chin, lifting her voice to be heard above the throng.
Instantly, Jasper and every one of his friends ended their conversation and gave her all their attention. And why shouldn't they? The blonde wore a tiny skirt that showed off her legs and a glittery, half see through shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Most men would at least glance.
“Hey,” Jasper said, also speaking up to be heard. He smiled his easy going smile, the one that I'd seen a thousand times and had only recently become affected by. The shadow of a dimple shaded his clean shaven cheek.
“Have room for one more?” the woman inquired, gesturing to the seats with one manicured hand.
I mean really, was I invisible?
“Sure, come on around the—oh, wait. Yeah, we're pretty full up here, sorry,” Jasper said, changing his tune the second he caught my death glare. He widened his eyes a fraction.
I glared harder, then turned my discontent on the clueless woman.
The blonde pouted and hovered, as if she thought hanging around might get her an invitation anyway. By some miracle, I managed to bite back a scathing remark about dogs and mating rituals. After an awkward moment, the blonde wandered away.
I shot Jasper another look that clearly said, really?
“What?” he said, leaning his broad shoulders my way.
“What do you mean, what?” It irked me that I had to speak up even though we were sitting so close together. “Were you seriously going to invite her to sit with you?”
Jasper gestured with his beer bottle, a random slant toward where the woman had
once stood. “Just for the other guys's sake. You know? They're single.”
“She wasn't looking at them. She was looking at you,” I pointed out.
“So? She could have gotten to know them when she realized I'm not available.”
I studied the handsome, angular lines of Jasper's face and the bone white, thin scar that sliced his right eyebrow in two. It was the first time I realized how much distance I kept between us, at least on certain levels. I still had a tendency to act like we always had during our years growing up—like best friends. We sat next to each other, but we didn't look like we were together. We didn't hold hands because I didn't prefer to, and pigs would have flown before I would have ever sat on his lap in public. We lived together and had thousands of private moments that I didn't need to carry over onto the streets.
Yet there I sat, still perturbed over the attention Jasper was getting. It wasn't new. He'd gotten more than his share our whole lives.
Back then, I argued with myself, I hadn't been in love with him, either.
“Are you mad?” he asked, after a lengthy silence.
“No, just annoyed that so many women are flirting with you.” At least I was honest about it.
“You know I'm not interested in any of them.”
“I know. Still.”
Before we could discuss it further, the stage across from our seating area flashed to life. Music blared from the speakers and a raspy male voice poured into the microphone. Suddenly, all eyes were on the stage.
Eddie Bennett, lead singer of Conspiracy Rebellion, commanded attention with his charismatic presence and undeniable singing ability. I'd met the dark haired singer some months before, by accident, through a man who was now my boss. Hearing through the grapevine that Eddie and the band were set to perform tonight, I knew I couldn't let the event go by without dragging Jasper down here with me.
Conspiracy Rebellion had been our favorite band for the past three years.
Revelers gasped with recognition and rushed the stage.
Jasper paused, then stood up from his seat. “No way.”
“Yes way,” I said, forgetting my earlier ire to enjoy his surprise.
“You knew they'd be here, didn't you?” Jasper didn't wait for an answer. He scooped me up out of the seat and hauled me over the barrier toward the stage. Carrying me against his side, instead of bridegroom style, Jasper finally let me down but grasped my hand and led me through the crowd toward the front of the stage. There was still room to maneuver—barely. This time, I didn't mind being led by the hand. We arrived with Tyler, Joshua, Dalton and Landon at our back.
Eddie Bennett stalked the edge of the stage, the dark mane of his hair loose around his face and neck, eyes covered with signature brown tinted sunglasses. Dressed in a black blazer and white button down open at the throat, paired with washed out jeans and boots with steel at the toe and heel, Eddie was the epitome of a popular rocker. His wrists were covered in bands made by fans, another signature that endeared him to thousands. He pointed at a fan or two, stopped several times to shake hands or high five.
Jasper sang along, familiar with every word. He had one hand in the air and finally let me go to clap with the crowd a moment later. It was the first time Jasper had ever seen the band play live and his expression was one I wouldn't soon forget. Having heard through the same channels that Eddie and the band would only perform three songs, I tore my gaze off Jasper's face—and stared up at my reflection in Eddie's sunglasses. The enigmatic singer was looking right at me. I doubted Eddie would remember our brief meeting last year, although he had asked me to dance back then. Me, the girl with two left feet. He might remember me and my chicken scratch dancing after all.
Impossibly, it appeared he did remember me. Before I could react or even smile, Eddie had me by the hand and helped me up onto the stage with him. While I'm not a shy girl, I'm also not enamored of being in the spotlight. Yet there I was, green and purple and yellow lights shining down on my head, my face, with Eddie crooning sensual lyrics while the crowd roared approval.
I caught Jasper's eye. He looked both amused and slightly irritated—now he knew how I felt with the blonde. It was an interesting turn of events, considering Jasper and I were a 'new' couple still trying to figure our relationship out.
Eddie caught my chin gently between his fingers, dragging my gaze back to his face. Taller than me by an indeterminate amount, he bent his head while he sang, as if to put us a little more at eye level. I could vaguely see the shape of his eyebrows and the flicker of his lashes through the brown tinted lens, but no more detail than that.
One thing was for certain: if I hadn't been involved with Jasper, I would have flirted my backside off with Eddie. He oozed sexuality and an irresistible allure that had gained him thousands of female fans. I did smile, at least, because it was Eddie Bennett and this was mine and Jasper's favorite band.
Prowling around me in a slow circle, Eddie worked the crowd up—especially the women—using his blatant lyrics to earn catcalls and loud whistles. I mouthed the words since it was one of my favorite songs and tried to pretend I wasn't the focus of so many pairs of eyes.
Then, the unthinkable happened.
Eddie tilted the microphone toward my lips. He not only had me under the spotlight, he wanted me to sing. For the record, I sing about as well as I dance, which is to say...not at all. Heat suffused my cheeks and suddenly I was speechless. Me, Finley Carson, the girl who always had something to say. Thankfully, the crowd was singing full blast, making up for the few seconds of my stammering incoherency.
Jasper appeared out of nowhere, leaning his head in next to mine like a saint or a savior, belting out the lyrics that he knew as well as I did. Eddie flashed a wide grin for Jasper's 'save', pointing from the crowd to Jasper, working the ladies up even more.
After a repeat of the chorus, Jasper thrust his arms in the air, strutted a circle as if he was the star here instead of Eddie, then laughed and hauled me off the stage to the ground. In one fell swoop, Jasper rescued me and spared me the humiliation of stage fright.
“How was that for stealing the show? Maybe I should make that man a member of the band!” Eddie said, marching the other direction to engage more fans. The crowd catcalled loud enough to temporarily drown out the singer.
I breathed a sigh of relief while Jasper cheered like he might get up there again and prove he was worthy.
Just like that, the focus of the crowd shifted to someone else as Eddie broke into his last song of the night and put his attention on a cluster of swooning, screaming girls.
“Thank you. I've sung that song a hundred times in the car, but couldn't remember a thing when he stuck the microphone in my face,” I said near Jasper's ear.
“Hey, no problem. You forget I know you don't like being the center of attention like that.” Jasper winked.
We enjoyed the last song and applauded as loud as anyone when Conspiracy Rebellion took their final bow and exited the stage. The crowd was slow to disperse, lingering in the hopes that the band would come out for an encore.
Jasper guided me away from the stage with the guys in tow. Once we were free of the melee, Jasper shook hands with his friends and we bade the guys goodbye.
As we left the crowds and flashing lights behind, I prepared to hop onto Jasper's back for a piggy-back ride to the Camaro, but paused and glanced down at his hand instead. Tentatively, I caught my pinky around his, then slid my palm flush with Jasper's.
He missed a step, looked down in surprise, then met my eyes.
“First time for everything,” I said, still unsure how I felt about doing something as mundane as holding hands.
As if Jasper suspected I wasn't wholly comfortable with it yet, he released me and slung an arm around my shoulders, loose and casual.
He said, “We don't have to do what everyone else does, you know. This is good.”
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed. It felt a lot more like something we used to do as best friends rather than some
thing a boyfriend and girlfriend would do.
“You know, I understand better than you think, Fins. About your aversion to clichés. I don't need to hold hands with you or walk with our arms around each other or anything. We're together, and that's fine with me,” he said.
“I'm glad you do. Understand, I mean. You've known that about me for a long time.” So I shouldn't feel guilty that I don't give it to you, I thought.
“I knew going into this what it would be like. So don't worry, okay? And you know that just because I'm polite to a girl doesn't mean I want to get to know her better.” He gave me a side-eye stare.
I laughed and lifted a shoulder like it didn't matter. It had mattered at the time, however. “Let your friends be nice to the girl if they're interested.”
He scoffed. “So what you're saying is that I should turn into a rude jerk and offend everyone.”
“That's not what I said!”
“That's what you're implying.”
The gleam in his eyes told me he was teasing. “If you're not careful, I'll order you to not even look at other girls, or talk to them at all.”
Jasper laughed, full throated and deep. “Now that sounds more like you.” A heartbeat later, he added, “Thanks for today. It was a good birthday, Fins.”
“You're welcome. I knew I couldn't pass the opportunity by to bring you down here to see the band. We finally got to see them live, even if it was a short performance.”
“Hey, we were right up front, we got to get on stage with Eddie—it's great. Tyler even took pictures.”
“We should get one framed for the house. Except for any of me looking like a deer in the headlights. Those he can delete.” I was sure there were one or two unflattering photos of me on there.
At the Camaro, Jasper unlocked the passenger door, but didn't open it for me. He headed around the front and let himself into the driver's side. “We'll do it. By the way, I got a text earlier from work. I go in at three instead of five tomorrow. If you want a ride, you'll have to go in early, too.”
Sliding into the seat, I banged the door closed and buckled up. “My shift doesn't start until seven. I don't want to hang around work that long beforehand. I'll just take the bus.”
I'll Do Anything Page 2
