Somehow, we wound up back in front of Caesars facing Margaritaville. During our escapades of dancing and being ejected from a club, hours had elapsed. It was already a quarter to midnight. On the hotel rooftops, they were preparing for the big fireworks display. Most of the alcohol had already kicked in and the noise level rose to ear-numbing levels. At that point, most people were where they wanted to be for the countdown and Brooke was hell-bent on making it Margaritaville in time, whether she had to drag me or not.
After some determined shoving and barging, we made it to the front door, where the bouncer seemed all too pleased to permit our entrance. He whispered something to another guy, who ushered us inside to a VIP section.
“You paid for bottle service?” I asked. I knew she was trying to go all out for New Year’s, but bottle service costs an arm and a leg. And on New Year’s Eve, the ante is upped so high you may as well take out a mortgage on Park Place.
Her sneaky smile let me know she had something in the works. “No. He did.” Buoyantly she pointed to a table adjacent to ours. My vision was still a tad blurry, so I squinted in that general direction. The guy’s face was familiar. His name lingered on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
“Who is that? I can’t tell from here.” But before she could say his name, I knew. “Is that…Kale Reed?”
“As a matter-of-fact, it is. He’s my date tonight.” My emotions must have shown all over my face because she immediately retracted. “I mean, my other date. You know you come first, Laila. But, it’s Kale Reed! You can’t turn down Kale Reed.”
She’s right, of course. You don’t decline a date with a sizzling hot burgeoning actor, who won an Oscar for his role in the best love story of all times. He was endearing and rough around the edges. The love scenes would make any red-blooded woman pray for someone with even a smidgen of what he’d been blessed with from birth. Naturally, he was right up Brooke’s alley. Although she usually liked them young, his lined salt-and-pepper hair and symmetrically carved face said he was all man.
Still, I wished that she’d have let me know up front. Instead of making such a big deal about me going out with her, I could have been at home wallowing. Just what I wanted, to be the third wheel while Brooke dates a celebrity. A gorgeous, hard-bodied, honey-eyed celebrity.
Eight, seven, six, five, with every second, the countdown wedged me into a corner. People surrounded me at every turn, but I had never felt more alone. Tears swelled at the rims of my eyes and I wanted to be anywhere else. Brooke hugged me tightly, and then she turned and found Kale. Four, three, two, one, Happy New Year! The sound of my pounding heart and sudden hyperventilating drowned out the noise. I watched from afar: kissing, hugging, happiness. I was suffocating. Frantically, I searched through the river of people for an exit.
We had a rule set in stone; we come together, we leave together. Since college, we protected each other and acted as the voice of reason, when the other seemed to be lacking. It was the first time I’d broken the rule. As I caught my breath outside, I hoped she had sense enough not to go home with him.
The tears flowed freely now. All I heard was laughter. Growing louder. They were laughing at me, it seemed. I was faster with hard deliberate steps. It dawned on me, and my tired feet, how far I had to go to get back to the car. The night had become a worthy adversary. The chill in the air laid goose bumps over my skin as I trekked the distance. It was only a few blocks in reality, but it felt like a dozen football fields in heels.
After what seemed like hours, the looming arches of the Venetian stood before me. The only thing standing between me and the padded casino carpet was the conveyor ramp. I let the full weight of my body lean on the rubber railing, floating toward the entrance. As the end of the ramp neared, I prepared for the last leg of this journey, but I couldn’t release. Not because I was unwilling, but literally I was caught. Or, rather one of my strappy new shoes was caught in the ramp.
I wiggled my foot, hoping it would fling loose. The ramp bumped and bounced the closer I got to the end. Contorting my body in a weird pretzel-like position, with my knees on the ground and my back twisted upward for a better view of the snag, I saw it. Underneath the rail, the strap had lodged in between a slight rip in the rubber. I pinched my index finger and thumb in an attempt to grab it, but it was too late. The ramp ended. In one fluid motion: scraped knees, flying shoe, and a bruised ego.
A piercing pain rendered my leg useless. As if the night hadn’t already been one for the books when it came to downers, the audience of onlookers opted to stare rather than offer assistance.
No thank you. I don’t need any help.
I’d nearly made it back to my feet, when someone took my hand to help me the rest of the way.
“Going to make it?” he offered, sweetly.
“Thank you, sir—” I opened my mouth to say more, but closed it again just as quickly.
“Happy New Year, Laila.” Myles smiled.
The worst possible outcome realized. The man who was the cause and cure to my heartache had rescued me. As if on cue, my knees gave out, but not before Myles caught me heroically as his arms reached under my legs to lift me up in one coordinated swoop. Humiliated, I buried my face in the snug nook between his chin and the nape of his neck. He smelled of peppermint leaves and fresh lemony soap.
Much to my chagrin, Myles looked perfectly put together in his loose-fit jeans with a soft white linen shirt beneath a navy blazer. I couldn’t tell whether he was coming or going. The countdown had barely ended and the real partygoers were just starting to turn it up.
“Oh my goodness. I’m so embarrassed. Ugh! Why did you have to see me like this?” I said with muffled words.
There I was, a klutz, drunk and alone with bruised knees, while he stood there, a gorgeous Adonis, valiantly holding a fragile damsel together like a good Samaritan.
“Like what? Human?”
“I’ve had the worst night. Now to top it all off, you’ve found me here, crumbling from the inside out.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad, Laila. Come on.”
Questions lingered in his eyes. He was as curious about my life as I was about his, but neither of us had the courage to ask outright. We talked occasionally at my mother’s house or his studio when the conversation was always centered on Lena or Elle. Sometimes, we’d even venture so far as to ask how one another’s weekends had gone, but in our silence, we had an unspoken agreement not to discuss Ethan, or whomever Myles was dating. Here and there, he’d throw in “And say hello to Ethan for me,” Myles’ way of asking without asking. There was no way he hadn’t heard the news about Ethan and me.
The slowly fading barrier between us could have had something to do with the alcohol. Or, it could easily have been the fact that I was in his arms. Though, deep down, I did want to be comfortable with him again.
“Start from the beginning,” he offered sweetly. Myles walked slowly toward the hotel protectively clutching me to his chest without protest. I told him about my plan to stay home and wallow. Graciously, he did not take the opportunity to ask further about Ethan, though his quickening pulse sort of gave him away. I went on to tell him about Brooke ambushing me at home, and me dancing into a drunken stupor. Even though I thought about omitting the parts about being given the boot from the club and crying in Margaritaville, he had already seen me at my lowest, so it seemed pointless. I asked about his night, but he demurred and stated that he was exactly where he wanted to be.
I’d been talking the whole time, unmindful of where we were headed. I was going to press him for more details about his evening when I was interrupted by the doors to the elevator near the Venetian concierge closing behind us.
“Myles, where are you taking me?”
“Up to my room.”
“I don’t think so.” I struggled futilely.
“I think your knees beg to differ,” he muttered matter-of-factly, directing my eyes toward the blood streaming down my legs. My litt
le fall wasn’t so little after all.
When we reached the door to his room, he gently placed me onto my feet while he jiggled the plastic card into the door until the little light turned green. He stepped back and allowed me to enter first, following behind. Cool air rushed against my skin. A huge bed with an abundance of fluffy white goose-down pillows, cotton sheets, and a decadent red and gold paisley duvet sat off to the left. Warm hues and pops of red accented the wooden desk and armoire. Modern abstract art with the same tonal scheme flanked the large flat screen television. Off to the corner a leather recliner beneath a hovering floor lamp completed a comfy reading nook.
“Here it is.” Behind me, he slowly walked in, resting his hands on my shoulders. Pride hung in his words. “Have a seat over here, please.” He motioned toward the recliner.
“Ooh. I could fall asleep right here.”
Myles left me for a minute and returned with a small first aid kit. He positioned himself on the matching ottoman in front of my chair. Meticulously, he wiped at my knee with an alcohol swab to clean the cut. My teeth clinched at the stinging sensation and he blew coolly over it, mindful not to hurt me. As he smoothed each side of the Band-Aid, he spoke nonchalantly without raising his eyes. “You’re welcome to stay here if you’d like.”
With him carefully attending to my wound as if my life depended on it, it was hard not to imagine him taking care of my other needs. My eyes closed lazily as I remembered our rumble on his living room floor.
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Floor? What?” Had I said that aloud?
“I can sleep on the floor, if you want to stay. You really shouldn’t be out there by yourself. There are all kinds of lowlifes out there.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Myles, but thank you for offering. It’s just that this chair is so comfortable. I can feel my muscles relaxing already.” I stretched my back, yawned, and then sat up.
“There, good as new,” Myles uttered as he finished the other knee.
“Thank you.” I smiled sincerely. For a moment, we sat there facing each other, silent with my feet still resting on his knees. I thought about going home, but being there with Myles was where I wanted to be. I leaned back in the chair and Myles began to massage my feet.
“So, Myles…why are you down here all alone on New Year’s?” I picked up where we’d left off on the street.
“Actually, I’m not here alone.” A gasp of air released. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might be here with someone. With a woman. I mean, why would he have a room by himself, when he lives in Vegas? Abruptly, I sat up in a panic, scanning the room for signs—hairpins, earrings, makeup, a purse, heels, or heaven forbid, panties. Then, I saw it. A leather jacket. A feminine cut jacket, too small to be his. Myles’ eyes followed mine. He knew exactly where my mine was going, as usual. “A few friends of mine from out of town are visiting for the holiday and we all got rooms here, so we wouldn’t have to drive. We have this room and the one next door. I was actually coming up here to get John’s date’s jacket.”
“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry to hold you.” I sprung from the chair, grabbed my broken shoes, and bee-lined for the door. With one hand on the handle, he stopped me from behind. The heat of his breath brushed lightly over my neck and the soft smoothness of his skin stopped me in my tracks.
“I’d much rather be here with you, though,” he whispered softly.
And with that, I couldn’t do anything. No movement. No talking. Just silence and waiting. Frozen with indecision.
“I’ve missed you, Laila.”
With his words, I was putty. He put me back into shape. I dropped my head and exhaled as his lips left trails of fire at the back of my neck, each kiss making my night all better. “What about the girl’s jacket?” I worried, losing my nerve by the second. Myles reached around me, opening the door slightly, and slid the Do Not Disturb sign onto the handle.
twenty
When my eyes opened, it took a few seconds for me to remember where I was. The room was completely silent except for the soft hum of the AC. I was between the cloud of fluffy white sheets and pillows. That gorgeous duvet was hanging off the edge of the bed with my panties snagged by its static cling. I was naked. In Myles bed—without Myles.
How in the hell had I been hypnotized by his charming spell again? What was it about him that I just couldn’t say no to? And where the hell was he? Then I heard a soft thrumming to the theme of Michael Jackson’s, “Love Never Felt So Good,” Brooke’s favorite song. Shit. Brooke! I never called or texted or anything. I thrust my naked body from the bed, following the sound of the ringtone. Eventually, I found it underneath his jeans and my sorry excuse for a dress.
“Hello? Brooke?”
“Where in the hell are you, Laila? I’ve been calling and texting you for hours and your phone is going straight to voicemail. I don’t care that you left Margaritaville, but you could at least have the decency to let me know you’re okay.” Behind that receiver, I knew she was fuming smoke from her ears. She was right and I had to own up to it.
“I’m sorry. I was just so miserable last night and I couldn’t stay there watching you and Kale Reed make out.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it, Laila. Don’t even try to put this on me.”
“I know, I know, I know. I should’ve texted you. I’m so, so sorry. You know I love you.”
“Fine. Whatever. So, what the hell happened to you?”
The lie was on the tip of my tongue, but I was already in the doghouse. Lying on top of everything would just be adding insult to injury. Just as I said the words, “I was with Myles…,” flashbacks of last night’s rendezvous, came rushing back to me.
“What?” Brooke’s excitement was palpable. She’d been ragging on me to eat my pride and call Myles. “Did you hook up?”
“Well…” And then I told her everything, shivering in my birthday suit in Myles’ hotel room.
It wasn’t the alcohol, just pent-up sexual frustration and pure lust. After he put the sign out in the hallway, it was no-holds-barred. Right there with me pinned against the door, for any innocent passerby to hear, he pulled the hem of my dress up, unraveling the teeny bit of thread holding it together, and ripped my cute pink frilly panties right off my bottom. He hesitated briefly.
“I have to have you right now.”
It wasn’t a question. More like a proclamation and check for any objections before he ravaged me.
“Yes.” I gasped. “Now.”
With my permission and unwavering consent, he kissed me feverishly on my back while he expertly unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants. Before I could glance back at him, he had a condom on and used his knee to part my legs, and that bulging erection, which I’d felt on my back pushing against his jeans, entered my open flesh filling me whole. All the air left my lungs. In and out, he thrust himself to a pulsating rhythm. Tightly he gripped my hips, moving us in unison. My body’s hollow ache grew rapidly until I let out breathless moans. The door shifted against our bodies loudly and I couldn’t hold it. My hands needed to hold on to something, so I reached behind me and held on to Myles, begging him in painful pleasure. The only sounds were our panting and the violent convulsions of our desperate bodies hungry for relief. Afterward, we lay on the floor, our bodies spent and fully sated.
“Shit. Girl, I’m so proud of you,” Brooke crooned through the phone.
“Yeah, well he’s gone now, and I’m here by myself, stark naked. It’s like déjà vu. I got my rocks off and he got a cheap thrill and now it’s over.”
“So, what happened then?”
Really, I wanted to just get out of the room and forget all about it, but Brooke would keep going, if I didn’t wrap it up. “After the first time—” I continued, but Brooke interrupted me.
“First time? There was a second time?” she asked, in an almost shrill.
“Uh. And a third, too.” I laughed at her complete disbelief.
In a daze, I sat ther
e on the chair, which started it all, and stared at the door, remembering last night and getting warm all over again when I heard the jiggling door handle and the clicking shuffle of someone trying to unlock the door. My clothes were clear across the room, but I made a run for the bed. Myles entered with his hands full. And by the look on his face, he was pleasantly surprised.
A deer in headlights, I stood there juggling with my next move to either shield myself with my hands or jump for the bed sheets.
“Don’t move,” he pleaded, taking full pleasure in my discomfort. “I’ve told you this before, but each time, you are even more amazingly beautiful to me.”
Brooke’s faraway voice screamed goodbye as I clicked off the line. She was probably too happy to be worried now. Blood rushed to my face. It’s impossible not to blush, when a man that you adore tells you that you are beautiful despite all the personal hang ups and flaws that you see in yourself. “Thank you, Myles.”
He held a few bags and a drink in his hands. I walked over to help him, “what’d you do, wake up for a morning sale?”
“Kinda. I picked up a few things for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah. Well, you didn’t have an overnight bag with you, so I got you an outfit and sandals to change into, and a toiletry kit. Raquel said these were the things you would need to feel comfortable. Apparently, there’s nothing worst for a woman than wearing the same thing two days in a row. She went on and on about hygiene and a walk of shame and some other craziness. I got you a small in everything, hope that’s okay.”
“Oh my gosh, Myles.” I covered my mouth in total shock. He’d gone out of his way to make me feel comfortable. His thoughtfulness surprised me. No one had ever done anything like that for me before, including Ethan.
It's Got A Ring To It Page 19
