Not terribly surprising, Knox has coffee waiting in the car. I settle into my seat and take a sip and try very hard to turn my mind off for the next five hours.
Asher
She’s asleep and has been for a while. I'm okay with that. I was a little worried when she first found out what Kevin did and why I abducted her.
Abduct is a strong word. It's not exactly the one that I would've chosen. I like to think of it as I borrowed her for a few days.
Whatever. She's okay with it.
Okay, she’s still pissed.
We hit the city limits, and I turn the radio down, grabbing my phone. Luca, not surprisingly, answers on the first ring.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“We’re in the city, but we just got here. It’s going to be a while. Are you still at your shoot?”
“Yeah. I should be done in an hour. Just head to the hotel.”
I find myself nodding before I remember he can't see me. Idiot. But I feel like he deserves some kind of warning. Even if he’s working, I need to tell him. “Luca, she knows.”
“How the hell did she find out?” he asks.
“Well, she was going to find out some point. I mean how else was I going to get her to Vegas?”
He's quiet for a long time, and then, “Dude, I got to go. They’re calling me back. Just take her to the hotel. It's room 1159.” He hangs up quickly, before I can respond. I curse.
“Was that Luca?” she asks, her voice rough with sleep.
I would kill to be the first one to hear her voice every morning. Does that make me a little bit maladjusted? Probably. Am I okay with that? Yes.
“What's wrong? Why did Luca sound so pissed?”
“I think he wanted to be the one to tell you about Kevin.”
“He knows?” she says, her voice going shrill and losing that gravelly sleep tone.
“Yeah. I sort of ran into him when I was leaving Kevin's office, and yeah.”
I cringe, cursing myself. What is it about this girl that turns me into a babbling idiot? She gives me a disbelieving sort of look. “You're just now telling me this?”
“But you get to yell at him too, right?”
She glares and I hurry on. “If you’re going to yell at both of us, don't you think it’d be better to wait and do it together? It saves you some time and me from getting it twice.”
She tries to maintain the angry stare, but I see her lips twitching to a smile. “Most people don't mind getting it twice,” she mutters.
I snort. “That’s what she said.”
She laughs, the carefree sound filling the tiny space of the car and making my heart jump. Dude, I’ve turned into such a girl.
“So where are we going?” she asks, leaning her head back. The heater in the car is turned all the way up, and it’s brought a flush to her cheeks. Red curls are slipping out of the messy ponytail. I want to catch one and tug at it.
I keep my hands firmly on the wheel and shrug one shoulder. “He’s staying at the Luxor. We can go there, or do something else.”
Her head tilts back, neck craning to see the skyline. “Can we go to the Stratosphere and ride the coaster? The one where you dangle eight hundred feet above the strip?”
I choke. “Seriously?”
She laughs again, leans back against her seat. “No, not seriously. I mean, I do want to ride it, but Luca would be really upset if I went without him. Do you mind?”
A wave of relief sweeps over me. “No. That's fine, we can wait,” I say, my voice oddly high. She gives me a slightly suspicious look, but doesn't push for more.
“So, the problem is going to be that, if we go out anywhere, you're likely to be recognized and mobbed, and nobody really wants that.”
I slide a glance her way. This is by far the only time she's suggested not taking me in public. And since it is a hotel room waiting on the other end of this trip—“Are you trying to get me in bed?” I ask.
Color flood her cheeks. She looks away. “Not everything is about sex, Asher.”
I laugh, “Yeah, darling, it is.”
It kicks off an argument that lasts until we’re almost at the hotel, and I'm okay fighting with her. I'm okay with just about anything as long as she's happy and smiling.
“Do I need to go and get us a key?” she asks, staring up at the Luxor.
“Yeah, you probably better, I think, if you want to avoid a mob scene.”
She rolls her eyes. “No one knows you're going to be here. I doubt they’re just lying around in the lobby for you.”
“But you don't know that they're not,” I point out reasonably. “Besides, it doesn't matter if they're waiting for me. When they see me, it'll devolve into chaos. You know that.”
"Fine. Wait here."
She startles me, leaning in and dropping a quick kiss on my lips before she hops out of the car and starts inside. I think I might like this new playful side of her.
Megan
There's a line to the reception desk, so I wait patiently and think about what I just did.
Kissing Ash was such a bad idea. The longer we’re away from LA and the more time I spend with him, the more I forget why. And it's not like it can affect my job anymore. Fuck, what am I going to do about that? Panic closes in on me, and I breath, trying to focus on forcing a smile for the receptionist as she calls me up.
“Hi. I'm meeting a friend. He's already got a room and put me on the list?”
She gives me a warm smile and looks at a computer. “Name and room number?”
I rattle off the information, and a few minutes later I'm holding a shiny plastic key.
It occurs to me that we still have to get Asher through crowded hotel lobby, so I look at the lady and ask, “Where is your gift shop?”
She points me in the general direction, and I make my way there. It's predictably tacky, filled with overpriced snacks and hats and sunglasses.
Exactly what I need.
I pick the most ridiculous hat I can find and an obnoxious pair of sunglasses. I make my way back out to the car. Knox is waiting, an expectant look on his face.
“Here,” I say tossing the bag to him.
He looks at it like it might be a bomb. “What is this?” he asks.
“Just put it on,” I say in a huff.
“This is a really bad disguise,” he says.
It is. The hat and glasses do nothing to disguise the way his face looks, a strong jawline the begs for kisses. The glasses do hide his baby blues. And the hat casts enough of a shadow that there's a trace of doubt. And really, all I need is a shadow of a doubt.
“Quit bitching and let's go."
He grins, and we both climb out of the car.
Everything is fine, until he reached the elevators. A group of people lingers there waiting for the elevators to descend, including several teenage girls. I can feel Asher stiffening, reacting next to me. Without thinking, I reach out and grab his hand. His grip on me is painfully tight, as if I'm a lifeline, the tether keeping him here. For some reason, it doesn’t bother me as much as it should.
“Keep it together,” I whisper. He steps behind me, dropping the arm around my waist, holding me too him. I have moment to think what the fuck before his lips descend on the back of my neck.
And I’m on sensory overload, unable to think beyond the fact that he's kissing me and I don't want him to stop.
I hear the girls behind us giggling and the murmur of people around us—I think someone even whistles—but I’m lost in the press of his lips on the back of my neck, his hands hot and low on my waist. I shiver, and the elevator dings, the doors sliding open.
Without releasing me, he nudges us into motion, positioning us in the back of the elevator. “Tell them which floor,” he orders, his voice husky in my ear, tongue darting out and licking over my earlobe.
“Which floor?” someone calls.
“Eleven,” I say, a few other people chiming in. I can’t see them—Asher is bent over me, the bill of his ball cap
obscuring us both. He twists me a little, until I face him. His eyes are still hidden behind those damn glasses, but his lips are soft and fuller than I’ve seen them, and I have a heartbeat to realize that’s because of me, and then he’s kissing me.
This man could make a fortune at a kissing booth, I think before I lose track of rational thought.
Asher
She’s soft and pliant, a warm arch of skin and curves pressing against every inch of me. Her lips open on the softest sigh, and my hands leave the delectable curve of her waist, coming up to twist into her hair and hold her in place as I deepen the kiss.
It was supposed to be a diversion—just something to make people think about something other than who I am.
It’s become so much more, and I don’t want to stop.
Her tongue darts out, rubbing against mine, and I have to. I have to pull back because I want to fuck her, and I’m not going to push her here, not in a crowded elevator on the way to her best friend’s hotel room.
I kiss her once more, a soft press against the top of her head, and she shivers against me. The elevator slows, my stomach doing that swoopy thing as it pauses at floor eleven. I take her hand and pull her off the elevator.
As the door begins to slide shut, one of the teen girls says, fervently, “God, I want someone to kiss me like that.”
I tug my glasses off and twist to wink at her.
The expression of startled wonder is priceless, probably the highlight of her vacation.
Megan is staring at me, her face a mix of bemused tolerance .
“You really are an idiot,” she says, and I laugh. For the first time, I look around. The halls are long, a repeating pattern in beige and scarlet. It’s garish and dizzying. “Apparently the décor budget was used downstairs,” I say dryly.
She rolls her eyes, and I reach down, grabbing her bag as she leads the way down the long hall to room 1159.
It’s a modest room—the kind a mid-level actor would rate. But there’s a spacious bathroom and a large bed and—
“Why is there only one bed?” I ask, my voice a little uneven.
Her cheeks color, and she looks away. “Luca and I usually share. We’re pretty comfortable in each other’s space, you know, and he knows my limits.”
I stare at her for a long minute. Debate telling her the truth about her beloved best friend.
“You remember that, before we left, I knew you had limits? And yet, I just kissed you in the elevator and I already want to kiss you again? I want to strip you bare and see everything that I touched last night, and go down on you until you’re screaming. That’s well past your limits, isn’t it?”
Her eyes go wide, and her breath is coming in short little pants. Her tongue darts out, licking over her lips, and I groan.
“Luca doesn’t do one on one,” she says, looking back at the bed. “And I don’t think you’re into sharing.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Luca seems to think that’s your hang-up.”
“What, did y’all discuss it while I was in the other room?” she asks, her voice turning a little tart.
“Yes.”
Her mouth falls open, her eyes going wide. I look away—I need to step back, get her on comfortable footing. Or she’s going to wind up naked, under me.
“You want to shower first?” I ask, taking a mental and physical step back. Her brows stitch in confusion, and then she nods, giving her travel clothes a slightly disgruntled look.
“Yeah.”
She turns without another word, stalking into the bathroom and letting the door slam shut behind her. I text Luca quickly.
Me: We’re here.
He doesn’t respond, and as the water turns on, I sit down on the bed. Listening to her shower while I sit alone in the next room is a special kind of torture. One I wouldn’t be indulging in if I had my way. But I’ve waited this long, and Luca will be here soon and…what? What will happen then?
My phone lights up.
Luca: Dinner in or out?
Me: In.
I can almost see the other man thinking, and I follow the text with another.
Me: I’m tired, and want to avoid a riot if possible. I can’t make out with Meg every time a teen girl happens to be around.
Luca: ??
Me: Nothing. The elevators provided a uniquely difficult situation for avoiding recognition.
Luca: I can’t leave you two alone for a minute, can I?
I laugh. There is something so amused and exasperated in the question, I can’t help but laugh.
Luca feels like an old friend—someone who fits into my life like he’s carved a niche and made a place for himself there, instead of having met me only a week or so ago. No one ever feels like that. It’s disconcerting.
Luca: She’s going to want to go out before we leave.
Me: I know. The little idiot wants to ride the damn X-Scream. You can take her tomorrow.
Luca: Pussy. I’ll grab something for dinner. Be there soon.
Luca
I stop and grab sushi, salads, and a piece of prime rib for Asher. I could order room service, but this is better—and Megan's favorite. I'm anxious, and I don't like it. It's a feeling I’m not used to. I don't usually care what people think or if I'm going to get laid. But this isn't people—it's Megan. And that makes all the difference in the world.
I stand outside our room for a long minute, getting up the nerve to push the door open. I can hear them talking inside, her laughter and his low rumble. After I open the door, things will change, and I don't know how. I don't know if they're ready for it.
Too late to back out now.
Both of them sort of freeze when I open the door. Asher looks at me like he has never seen me before, and Megan gives me a brilliant smile and hurries across the room to wrap her arms around me. “I missed you,” she says, her voice soft in my ear.
I squeeze her tight before I release her, and she steps back. Immediately, I feel a sense of loss, and I want to pull her back against me. Her gaze is going between me and Asher, her expression a little bit hesitant.
There's an awkward pause, all of us wondering what to do next. “I have food,” I say.
She grins and takes the bag from me, twisting away to sway to the little table. I eye Knox as she opens the food, watching his gaze following her. I shift, and his eyes shoot back to me. I lift an eyebrow, and he smirks, a blatant disregard.
It makes me angry, the fact that he can dismiss me so easily.
He forgets, Megan has been mine far longer than he’s been in her life, and she’s comfortable with me.
Sometimes, being a friend can be a real benefit.
I follow her across the room and step up behind her. She goes stiff for a moment, then relaxes against me. “Can I help, lovely girl?” I ask.
She flashes me a quick smile and kisses my cheek. “No. Oh, we need ice?”
I snake a hand around her waist, stealing a crouton and letting my fingers skim over her hip, the soft v of her thigh curving into her body, and she shivers. Her eyes, when they come up to mine, are filled with hunger and questions. I’ve seen this look in her eyes so many times before, and I’ve always stepped back, always let her have the comfort of our friendship because she didn’t want what I was offering.
I step into her space, and her breath catches, her eyes going wide and startled. I lean over, letting my breath brush against her skin, and I can feel the softness of her hair and the warmth of her skin. It would be so easy, to twist just a little and kiss her.
Easy, and not what she needs. Yet. So I pluck the ice bucket from the table and straighten with a small smile. I grin at Knox as I turn, a cocky smirk as I head out the door.
“I’ll go with you,” he says, shifting off the bed. Meg goes still, watching us with big, concerned eyes. I flash her a smile, and her shoulders relax a little.
Knox is quiet as we walk through the hallways, and I’m thankful that casino hotel hallways don’t get nearly as much action as their gaming floor
s—we’re unobserved.
At the little cubicle, the sound of the ice machine buzzing around us, I finally look at him.
“What?”
“You want her,” he says, without heat. It’s not an accusation, it’s an observation.
I nod. “Yes. I do.”
“And I want her.”
I take a deep breath, nervous, and force myself to meet his gaze. “Yes.”
“Where does that leave us?”
I don’t want to spell it out. I don’t want to explain to him what I want. Or why. Why can’t we just get drunk and fuck and deal with the awkward bullshit in the morning?
“Why does it have to be either or?” I say, my voice low. I glance up at him and find his expression thoughtful. I shiver under the weight of his gaze and look away. I’m not used to someone else having the upper hand in a relationship. It makes things hella hard.
“She wants both of us,” I say, turning away and shoving the bucket under the ice dispenser.
I feel his motion a second before I feel his breath, his voice a murmur in my ear.
“And do you? Do you want us both?”
I shudder and let the bucket go, turning to face him. He’s close, and his height is almost even with mine, making this strangely intimate.
“Yes,” I say, without hesitation.
His eyes dilate, and he inhales sharply. His lips hover, a few inches from mine, and I want to close the gap, and I want to shove him away.
“Fuck,” I mutter, pulling back. Asher’s expression stutters into shock. “I’m too sober, Knox. I won’t lie—of course, I want you. But I’m too sober to try and seduce a straight man. I’m not that desperate. I won’t interfere, when it comes to you and her. All I ask that you do the same.”
He hesitates, and the ice machine comes to life, startling us. I jerk the bucket free and raise an eyebrow. He nods. “Deal.”
Sweet Ruin Page 7