Authors: Emma Hart
“Maybe you should be.” She smiles.
I grin at her and kiss her once more before turning away. I find a white shirt from my bag and a pair of dark jeans. I strip – no going into the bathroom like Maddie did – and change, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. I face her as I do up the buttons of my shirt, and her eyes are fixed on my chest. A small, smug smile graces my lips.
“Is my collar straight?” I ask, tilting my head back and exposing my neck.
“Mm? What?” She snaps back to it. “Oh, not quite.”
Her heels are soundless against the carpeted floor as she steps up to me and reaches up to adjust my collar. When she's done, she smooths her hands down my chest and kisses my neck, brushing her lips along the hollow of my collarbone afterward.
“Hey,” I whisper huskily. “None of that, or we won't be going for dinner.”
She smirks and steps back, letting her fingers trail down my body. “Stopping.”
I step forward. “You don't have to stop, Maddie, I'm just saying
....”
“Well, I'm hungry.” She bats her eyelashes. “Where are we eating?”
“I was thinking Phil's Italian Steakhouse.”
She purses her lips for a moment. “Expensive.”
“And my treat.”
“You can't exactly take me for dinner on your birthday weekend, Bray.”
“Hey.” I step closer to her again, resting my hand on her hip and holding her chin. “You're my girl, so my birthday or not, if I wanna treat you, I'm gonna treat you, okay? And tonight I wanna treat you. You can pay for dinner tomorrow on my actual birthday.”
She sighs. “Well, okay, but you should know we're only going for pizza tomorrow night.”
Her eyes glimmer, and I grin at her. She smiles back. “Pizza is fine.”
“Good.” She leans up and kisses me. “Now feed me.”
“Yes, ma'am.” I take her hand and pull her from the room, slipping the key card into my pocket.
She leans into my side on the way down in the elevator. “Are the others meeting us there?”
“No.” I kiss the top of her head. “Dinner tonight is just for us.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I squeeze her hand, and we step out. “See, I realized we haven't been for dinner yet, and according to Google that makes me a bad boyfriend.” I wink, and she laughs.
“You googled it? Really?”
I half-smile at her. “Only so it could be perfect for you.”
She stops laughing and leans up, touching her lips to my cheek. “It's perfect anyway.”
I stroke my thumb across the back of her hand. “Come on, let's get some food.”
~
The low light of Phil's Italian Steak House is perfect for dinner. Despite the place being packed – making me thankful I'd thought to book a table before we left college – there's something intimate about it.
Maybe it's because I've never really taken the time to be with Maddie before now. Maybe because it's finally more than just sex. I don't fuckin' know.
But being in this casino now with everyone makes me wish we were back in the restaurant.
Maddie runs her finger around the top of her wine glass.
“Okay, Angel?” I put a hand on her back.
She looks up and smiles. “I'm fine. You?”
“Fine.” I kiss her quickly.
Megan powers through our crowd and takes Maddie's free hand. “I'm stealing her. Go be a boy and play poker or something!”
“What are we gonna do?” Maddie asks and shrugs at me.
“There's a hot bartender over there, and I want his number!” Megan laughs, and I shake my head. Aston's head snaps round and watches her as she leaves. My eyes flick between them – okay, between them and Maddie.
Aston better not have designs on Megan because I'll break his fuckin' neck if he does.
The girls disappear into a throng of people, and I join the guys. “Poker?”
“Poker,” Ryan agrees, finishing his beer and putting the glass on the bar. We all move into the poker room to a mercifully free table. After sitting, Ryan signals to the dealer that he's got it. He deals in a way that only growing up in a casino can teach you. His smooth way with the cards means there’s no chance anyone other than the person the hand belongs to will have seen it. That's what you get when your Dad owns a casino in Atlantic City, I guess. You also get to deal at your own table if you know the casino owner, apparently.
“Game on,” Aston grins.
Ten minutes in, Aston is panicking as his pile of chips dwindle slowly.
“You have the shittest poker face I've ever seen,” Ryan announces. “And I've seen a lot, Aston.”
“Slot machines are just back in there if you want 'em.” I wink.
“Fuck off,” Aston says. “Slot machines are for girls.”
“And poker is for men who don't wobble their bottom lips when they have a shit hand.” Ed laughs.
The rest of the guys join in the piss-taking and after a few minutes, I break it up.
“All right, guys, come on,” I wave my hand. “Give the poor baby a break. It's not his fault the only card game he can play properly is fuckin' Old Maid.”
The table roars with laughter, and someone clips me round the back of the head.
“The fuck?” I turn and Megan is standing there with her eyebrows raised. “I thought you were getting some waiter's number.”
“I got it.” She waves a little piece of paper before tucking it into her purse. “But we got bored and want to do something else. Lila suggested hitting a club, either in or out of the hotel.”
I look at the guys, and they don't object.
Ryan shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”
“You only say that cause you're whipped, Ry.” Jake punches his arm.
Ryan shows his hand. “You'd say the same thing if you shared a bed with her. She's a fuckin' animal.”
Megan tosses a chip at his head. “Pigs! Do you think Lila discusses your sex life with us?”
“I know she does,” Ryan laughs. “You all discuss your sex life. It's like a bunch of Granny's being together at bingo.”
“You're all just a whole lot hotter.” Aston winks at Megan, and she rolls her eyes.
“Can we go? These shoes do have a wearable time limit, you know.” She cocks her leg to show the bright blue pumps with daggers for heels. “And I think Aston's had enough of you guys ripping on him now.”
We laugh and throw the cards down, deciding to call it even.
“Hey, Megan,” Aston slinks up beside her. “If those shoes get too much later, and you need a hand getting to your room, you know where I am.”
I clench my fists, watching as she turns to him and touches his chest, batting her eyelashes.
“Aston, honey, if I'm gonna get someone to take me to bed, it'll be someone more qualified than you. Say, someone who can play more than just Old Maid. You think on that and come back when you've at least learned to play Go Fish, get that?” She beams and spins on her heels, stalking out of the poker room, leaving him staring after her dumbfounded.
“And that, my friend.” I slap his shoulder. “Is what happens when you try your dirty tricks on a girl with more class than a month of your bed-warming whores.”
“Because you'd know all about that,” he replies dryly, following us out to the main hall.
I spy Maddie, twirling a piece of hair around her finger and laughing with Lila. “Actually, I would.”
I walk up behind her and circle her waist with my arms. “Ready to go?”
“Mhmm.” She turns her head into me, and we all head to the floor that holds the Kahunaville party bar.
The Kahunaville party bar is tiki. Maybe Hawaiian. Personally, I always thought they were the same – and maybe they are.
Or maybe that's the wine already clouding my vision, so perhaps the margarita Megan just handed me isn't a smart idea. I'll drink it anyway because these girls have successfully corrupted me from the good girl I was a few weeks ago, to the semi-bad girl I am now.
I say semi-bad because I haven't had sex yet. Glancing up at Braden next to me, I think I might have to remedy that tonight. Then we'll have a pretty little Brooklyn Maddie and California Maddie with a dash of Braden Maddie all rolled into one.
What a delightful little package
that'll
be.
I accept Lila's hand when she holds it out to me to dance. My thoughts are getting morbid, and I won't let my past ruin this weekend for Braden. He deserves a good birthday.
Servers dance between tables, swaying their hips and the flair bartenders throw cocktails shakers around. If I was ten years younger, I'd absolutely want to be a flair bartender when I grew up. But I am grown up – sort of. And it's not really that great, is it?
Oh, sheesh. Apparently alcohol depresses me.
And makes me talk shit.
Shoot me.
I move with Lila to the beat of the music, and it doesn't take long for Megan to join us, shaking her hips in a way that has every guy besides Braden and Ryan fixating their eyes on her. I giggle.
“Where's Kay?” Lila asks.
“Not sure.” Megan shrugs. “I think she hooked up with someone doing a table in the casino. She said she'd text.”
“Check your phone,” I say. “Before we all get too drunk.”
Megan nods and reaches into her purse for it. “Yep, she hooked up with that guy.”
“A guy?” Lila and I say in unison. “A
guy
?”
“Yep.” Megan throws her head back and laughs. “Well, hey, she was right. She does like a bit of-”
“Bamboo stick?” Lila interrupts. I laugh again.
“Where do you come up with this?” I look at her.
“Well she can't exactly say dick out loud here, can't she?”
Megan smirks. “You just did.”
“Shit.” Lila covers her mouth. “So I did. Oh well, I am twenty-one.”
“For a weekend,” I whisper, and we all laugh.
“Are you compromising my girl?” Braden asks, stepping up smoothly behind me.
“I always compromise her,” Megan replies, unaffected. “You're just never around to see it.” She grins, and I look away, knowing she's referring to Play the Player.
Yeah, sorry, I kinda failed on the whole
'don't fall for him'
thing. My bad.
Braden brushes his lips across my ear. “Leave the compromising to me.”
He's had whiskey, I can smell it – but he's not drunk. Have we danced that long? Apparently.
His hand creeps around to my stomach, his fingers splaying outwards. His body presses against me. “Let's get you a drink.”
I nod and silently allow him to lead me back to the bar. He takes me to a corner and, after ordering me whatever the hell a daiquiri is, sits me on a stool. He nudges my legs open and stands between them, one hand on the bar and another on my waist.
“Did you know that when you dance, your hips do this thing where they move?”
“I think that's the general idea.”
“No, but they move in this way that makes me wish we weren't in public,” he breathes, his fingers digging into my skin. “Because, see, they give me all kinds of crazy fuckin' ideas about how those hips would move beneath me.”
My heart pounds in my chest, and I swallow, trying in vain to steady my breathing. “Is that right?”
“It is.” He kisses my jaw, and I grip his shirt. I turn my face so my mouth ends up near his ear.
“Who said we have to stay in public?” I breathe out, feeling the want building up inside me. I let go of his shirt and let my hand fall down, my fingers brushing across his jeans and the evidence of just how turned-on my dancing has made him.
I'm not a virgin, not exactly well experienced, but something about Braden makes me lose all inhibitions. He makes me feel sexy.
His hips jerk, and he slides me across the stool so my body slams into his, the throbbing space between my legs hitting him. I take a sharp breath in, my back going straight.
“Then let's go.”
He tugs me up and waves for the bartender to give one of the girls my drink. With my hand firmly clasped in his, he pulls me through Kahunaville and towards the elevator outside the bar.
The doors ping open, and he pulls me in. He hits the button for our floor, and I find my back pressed against the cold, mirrored wall.
His electric blue eyes are heated, cloudy, misty. Needing, wanting. It's like our eyes are two opposite poles, held together by a damn strong attraction neither of us can fight.
“Maddie, are you drunk?” he asks.
“No. I'm not sober, but I'm not drunk.”
He strokes my side. “Because we're not doing this if you are. I'm not gonna take advantage of you.”
I grip his chin. “I'm not drunk, Braden. I know exactly what I'm doing. What we're doing.”
“Good.” He steps back as the doors open and I follow him through towards our room. He swipes the card through the door and holds it open for me, allowing me to pass through.