I give her a smile, truly appreciating her understanding. “Thanks, Jules. I’ll definitely be able to squeeze in some time for you tomorrow, I promise. My meeting won’t be until noon, so we can have breakfast together and then explore the strip after if you want to.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Is there anything specific you’d like to see?” I lean back in my chair, waiting for her answer.
She shakes her head. “I don’t really know what’s out there to be honest. Since we seem to be smack in the middle of it all though, maybe just walking up and down the strip and sneak into some of the cool hotels to check them out? I saw some casino brochures in the room and more in the lobby too, so I’m sure we’ll have no problem staying busy.”
“Very true. It’s hard to get bored in Vegas.”
She takes a sip of her wine, her gaze momentarily averted while mine stays on her, taking in her soft features and those plump lips on the rim of her glass.
Before I can take that thought any further and imagine that mouth around something else—my mind playing more and more tricks on me—I clear my throat and focus back on our conversation. “But you’ll go back to your room after the show, right?”
Her long curls bounce as she nods. “I might go to the bar for a drink after the show, but that’s probably it.”
I’m relieved to hear that, not wanting her to wander around the city by herself, especially not the way she’s dressed. It wouldn’t take a minute before someone tried to pick her up. “Good. I’m not sure how I would explain to your brother that you’re out by yourself having a crazy night. Especially since he doesn’t even know you’re here with me.”
It still doesn’t sit well to withhold that little detail from my best friend, but I’m not sure the alternative is much better.
The restaurant noise disappears around us for a moment when she leans in, exposing the top swell of her breasts. “He doesn’t need to know everything. It’s already enough that you worry and freak out over everything I do.”
There’s a gleam in her eyes that makes my stomach uneasy.
Thankfully, the waiter arrives with our food, and we drop the subject of the impending big-brother drama, at least for now. I’m sure it’ll come back eventually since situations like this tend to bite you in the ass, but I’m trying to stay optimistic and choose ignorance at this point.
A few hours later, I part ways with my client for the night, glad we only met a hotel over. I briskly walk back to the Bellagio, checking my phone to see if Julia’s messaged. I try calling her, but she doesn’t answer.
A look at the time tells me her show ended about an hour ago, so she should be back in her hotel room. Even with a drink at the bar, she shouldn’t be out and about anymore.
I try calling again but it keeps ringing until her voicemail kicks in.
This time I wait for the beep. “Jules, where are you? You said you’d text me when you got back to your hotel room. Please let me know you’re okay, so I know you made it back in one piece. I’m on my way to the hotel. Call me.” I push the end button.
I was hoping that leaving her a message would make me feel better, but the opposite is true. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, a strange mixture of concern and fear starting to build up in my body, the feeling of uneasiness strong enough for me to start pushing through the crowd as fast as I can.
The sun set while I was inside, the sunset gradually morphing into twilight, leaving the sky a beautiful shade of pink. The bright lights of the casinos stand out more against the darkening backdrop, and getting around people turns out to be harder than I thought since a lot of them are already highly intoxicated or on their way there.
I’m still clutching the phone in my hand when it vibrates, Julia’s name flashing on the screen. I’m so relieved, I almost drop it.
“Jules. Where the hell are you?”
For a few seconds, all I hear from the other side of the line is loud noise before she finally starts talking. “Carter? Are you there? Oh my gosh. Vegas is soooooo much fun.”
And then the phone call drops.
I stare at my phone screen in disbelief. What the fuck just happened?
When I call her back, the voicemail kicks in right away.
Shit.
Our hotel comes into view, and I practically run inside. Since Julia was clearly not in her hotel room, I rush through the bars on the lower level, having more than just a few curious—and some annoyed—looks thrown my way.
Just as I was afraid of, the search is fruitless. I’m off to the elevators to check her room anyway, even though I’m positive the chances are incredibly slim she’s there. The elevator ride takes forever, and I’m ready to rip my hair out when I finally make it to our floor.
“Come on, Julia. Please open the damn door.” I pound on it over and over, still hoping she’ll magically appear.
Two seconds later, I’m ready to punch a hole in the wall, knowing what the possibilities are of actually finding her in a city like this.
My phone vibrates again, this time alerting me of a new text message.
From Julia.
Thank fuck.
I’m not sure I still feel the same though when I read it, certain the little bit of color I had left on my face is now gone.
Julia: Come meet me at the Wedding Chapels on the first floor. Wear your suit. Hurry up.
Oh shit.
Chapter 9
Julia
Leaning back in one of the chairs, I check the clock on the wall. Again. I sent Carter the text about ten minutes ago, right before my phone died for good. It shouldn’t take him this long to get here, contrary to us, but we stopped several times for drinks and to look at the fun promenade shops that led us to the luxurious waiting room in front of the Wedding Chapels. It’s beautiful with elegant seating arrangements, creme-colored chairs, and intricate wall and ceiling patterns alongside lavish chandeliers.
Who would have thought Vegas is so much fun? I mean, I’ve heard a lot of stories about this place, both good and bad, but it’s different to experience it yourself. I definitely should have come here sooner, because it’s been absolutely exhilarating so far.
“Jules?” Carter’s voice carries across the expansive room before he comes in my line of vision, sprinting over to me.
He stops in front of me a moment later, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
“Took you long enough.” I lean forward to get a better look at his face, a laugh breaking from my chest when I see his frown. Teasing Carter is so much fun. Then I clap my hands together and yell, “Now we can get started.”
“Can we finally do this, babe?” The tall figure that was slouched over one of the other chairs pushes himself up, his speech slurred. I think. It’s hard to fully think past my own buzz.
“Yes.” I beam at him, until I take in the expression on his face. He looks different than before. Not as happy and smiley anymore. I thought we were having so much fun. Or maybe my alcohol levels have dropped. “Is everything okay?”
“What?” His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “Yeah. Sure, sure. I just really want to do this already.”
“Jules.” Carter’s sharp tone snaps me out of my maybe-blissful conversation—I haven’t decided yet. “Can we talk for a moment, please?” He grabs my elbow and pulls me over to the side, away from the seating area. “What the hell is going on here?”
“It’s wonderful. Marc and I are getting married.” I smile widely, the corners of my mouth slightly achy from the motion.
His head flinches back before he rubs his forehead. “I’m afraid I already know the answer, but who’s Marc?”
I point at the man we just walked away from. “Obviously him. We met at the show tonight. Neither one of us really enjoyed it, so we skipped it after a little while and went to the bar instead. We had a few drinks, talked, and decided to have some fun. Somehow, we ended up here.”
Carter looks
at me like I’m speaking Chinese, so I keep talking, “Marc just split up with his girlfriend and needed a little cheering up, just like me.”
“So you guys thought that getting married would cheer up both of you? Please tell me you’re kidding.” He lifts a single eyebrow and cocks his head.
“You don’t think it’s a great idea?” My smile falters a little, but I keep going. “It’s something new and exciting, and it seemed like we were meant to meet tonight. And in Las Vegas of all places. What are the odds?”
He shoves his hand roughly through his hair. Usually, he does that when he’s frustrated.
I take a step closer, tripping over my own feet and halfway stumbling into him, holding on to his arm for dear life. “Carter? Are you okay? Did the meeting not go well?”
He looks down to where my hands tightly clasp his forearm. “Why are you asking?”
“You’re clearly upset about something.”
He throws his head back and laughs, loudly, causing Marc to grunt behind us. When I turn around, he isn’t sitting like he was a few minutes ago, but instead, he’s lying down on one of the benches.
Wait. Is he sleeping?
I gasp just as Carter stops laughing.
“Jules, you don’t think there’s anything else I could be upset about?” He points around the room before throwing his hands in the air. “How many drinks have you had?”
I look at him, this conversation sobering me up more and more by the minute. Then I shrug. “Not too many. Just a few Long Island Iced Teas. Marc got me started on them since I’d never had one before. They’re really good.”
He groans in response, but I’m having trouble understanding why.
“Is something wrong with that drink?” I ask him.
“Nothing wrong per se, but they’re very strong. And you”—he points his finger at me—“are not a heavy drinker.”
“Nope, I’m not.” I giggle, enjoying this light buzz more than the heavier one I had when Marc and I left the bar earlier. The delicious dinner I had with Carter has probably helped soak up a lot of the alcohol too by now. I look around the room once more. The beautiful room that serves as a gateway to several chapels and is now adorned with a snoring man—random dude-slash-new friend-slash-almost husband? I bite my lip as my brain is busy firing up again, the fog slowly clearing in my head. “They were delicious, but maybe I should stay away from them in the future.”
“You think?” He lets out a loud breath. “Oh, Jules, what am I gonna do with you?”
I shrug.
“What exactly did you want me here for tonight anyway?”
I grimace and avoid his gaze as the reality of what I was about to do crashes down on me. Covering my face with my fingers, I peek through my fingertips at him sheepishly. “Be my best man?”
He takes a step closer, his presence pushing away the remnants of my muddled brain. “In case we aren’t clear on this yet, in no way are you getting married to Brad.”
“Marc.”
“What?”
“His name is Marc, not Brad.”
“I honestly don’t give a shit what his name is.” Once more, he points his finger at me, his words almost resembling a growl. “You’re not getting married to Marc, or anyone else for that matter. You’re clearly not thinking straight.”
I put my hands on my hips and pout. When I realize what I’m doing, I chuckle.
Carter, on the other side, is frowning at me again. “What is it now?”
“Nothing. I just think this is all so much fun, that’s all. I haven’t felt this alive in years.”
He pinches the bridge between his eyes, briefly closing them. When he opens them, his gaze is softer, the tension leaving his face as he grabs my hand. “Come on, Jules. Let’s get you back to your room so you can sleep this off.”
I look over my shoulder at my almost husband, and so does Carter. “Looks like he’s out for the night anyway. We better tell someone on the way. Oh well, I had a fun evening with him.”
“I don’t think spending a few hours with someone fun qualifies them as spouse material. I’m afraid we have to talk some more about your sudden urge to find a husband. But that will have to wait until tomorrow.”
I’m not sure I like where this is going. That feels like a serious talk, and I’ve had enough seriousness in my life for the past few years. “It’s not that bad.”
He suddenly spins me around to face Marc who is now snoring loudly on the bench. Carter’s breath is on my neck, the smell of his aftershave infiltrating my senses. I let out a little sigh of appreciation, and Carter stiffens behind me.
After drawing a breath, he releases it before speaking, making me shiver involuntarily. “Does this guy,” he murmurs into my ear, unmistakably talking about the sleeping person on the other side of the large room, “look like someone you want to spend the rest of your life with? At least I always assumed you wanted to be married for a long time and not end up like my mom.”
My mouth falls open, the statement clearing the last remnants of the fuzziness straight from my mind. Even though I’m still a little distracted by Carter’s close proximity, I suddenly see everything in front of me with a shocking clarity.
Gone is the cheery, funny guy I met earlier this evening who I was laughing with nonstop. In his place, is a guy who looks exhausted and very sad, deep frown lines etched into his forehead even when he’s passed out.
I shake my head. “You’re right. Let’s go. He probably would have been bad in bed anyway.”
Turning around, I walk out of the room, and down the long corridor.
It takes Carter a few seconds before he starts running after me, falling in step next to me. “Just like that?”
“Yup, just like that. I can be reasonable sometimes.” I raise my chin as he eyes me curiously. “Plus, I’ve sobered up, so I’d appreciate it if we could just pretend this never happened. Now, I need some fresh air before we head back inside.”
After telling an employee about Marc, and Carter practically forcing an entire bottle of water down my throat, we walk through the busy hotel in silence until we finally find an exit. It happens to be perfect timing too since the water fountain show is about to start.
I rush to one of the balconies, trying to avoid all the people coming from every direction. Carter’s on my heels, following me wordlessly until we’re both pressed into the balcony landing as more people join us, oohing and aahing with us throughout the whole show.
Once the show is done—absolutely magical, and way better live—the crowd dissipates around us.
Carter clears his throat next to me. “So . . . What did you mean earlier when you said that guy would have been bad in bed?”
His sole focus is on me, his body tilted my way.
I snort as I think about my best friend and lean in conspiratorially. “It’s really more Michelle’s doing than mine.”
“How so?” Crap. Impatient Carter has returned. He has this twitchy eye thing happening when he’s like this.
“Well, she’s convinced it’s possible to tell if someone is good or bad in bed by really looking at them. Something about paying attention to the details like intense eye contact, being confident and attentive. There was more, but I can’t remember what else she said.” My eyes are wide as I stare at him, expecting him to laugh.
Instead, he frowns at me. He’s been doing that an awful lot tonight, and it’s something I’m not used to seeing much. Of course, he isn’t always happy, but his bad moods usually don’t stay for long.
“That’s absurd, but Michelle’s always been a bit crazy. I mean, I’m sure it’s a lucky guess sometimes—the chances are fifty-fifty after all—but she can’t possibly pick guys that way.” His brows furrow as he seems to seriously contemplate this.
I smile at him, trying to bring this conversation back to the happier side. “So far she’s been right every single time, both good and bad.”
He shakes his head in exasperation. “There’s so much I want to say about
this, but I don’t need to know anything about Michelle’s sex life, please. Not to mention, I’d rather not spend our one night in Vegas talking about her.”
I tip my head in his direction. “Fair enough.”
He grabs my arm and pulls me closer to him when a rowdy group of guys walks past us. “Seriously though, Jules. Please don’t put too much into that theory.”
I stare at him, just stare at him, while the synapses in my brain are trying to figure out which way to take this conversation. I have a response on the tip of my tongue, but the civilized part of my mind is trying to reason with me.
I’m not sure if this is the last bit of alcohol speaking, or if I might just have had enough of doing the right thing after the way I’ve lived the last few years, but . . . Unable to contain my smirk, I watch his face, not wanting to miss his reaction to my next words. “So, that means you’re not good in bed then?”
Chapter 10
Carter
Whooosh.
That’s all I can hear right now, a strange whooshing sound in my ears.
Jules is staring at me with her expressive brown eyes, waiting for a response. There’s also something else in her gaze. Is she testing me? Daring me? If anything has proven how much she’s changed over the past few years, it’s tonight’s behavior. Right now, I don’t think anything about this woman would surprise me anymore.
Whenever I talked to Ollie about his sister, he suggested everything was still the same with her. Very odd.
Which I’m pretty sure was either a load of bullshit, or Jules put on a happy front for her brother.
Now, I’m staring at one of my oldest friends who seems to be silently challenging me.
To do what exactly?
Simply answer her question or something more than that?
“What do you want from me right now, Jules?” Holding on to her arm, I spin us around so we switch places. People kept bumping into her, so now she’s safely standing on the side, leaning against the rough balcony while I block the crowd around us.
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