Waking up in Vegas

by Natasha Preston

  “You don’t think it would get old? Going out and sleeping around?”

  He lowers his pastry before taking a bite. “You sound like it already is.”

  This is my chance to be honest—to tell him that a lot is changing in my life, the biggest thing being how I feel about Wren. I could tell him that I’m starting to like her.

  But I don’t because I’m a fucking coward. I’m too scared of losing both of them. Wren already feels a million miles away, and I can’t be in Luke’s presence without a heavy feeling in my gut.

  So, I lie, “Nah, not yet. I’m still young.”

  He nods. “We fucking are, brother.”

  Satisfied with my reply, he takes a massive bite of his croissant. I’m no longer hungry.

  “Kate seems all right,” I say, taking the heat off me.

  He shrugs as he chews. “She’s okay, I guess.”

  “Tell me you’re not jealous that Mason has someone.”

  Swallowing, he throws a chunk of pastry at me. “Fuck off. All I’m saying is, he’d better not keep ditching us for her. We’ve lost two others to relationships.”

  Shawn and Raj. I think I hear from them once every few months.

  “Mase won’t ditch us.”

  “You’d better not get a girlfriend. Let’s make a pact right now. No relationships for at least five years.”

  I’ve not even eaten my croissant yet, and I feel it coming back up.

  Shaking my head in feign discouragement, I stuff the end of the pastry in my mouth and force myself to chew. I can’t promise that.

  “I need to go soon. I just dropped by on the way to Eva’s.”

  “You come over here, ranting about relationships, and you’re off to meet a woman on a Tuesday morning? No work?”

  He rolls his eyes. “I met her last week. She’s killer in bed, and she invited me to her parents’ house. And it’s only seven. I’ll still make it to work by nine.”

  I sit straighter. “What?”

  Standing up, he chuckles. “It’s not like that. They’re away and have a sauna. Have you ever been blown in a sauna?”

  “No.”

  “Neither have I, but that’s what she promised, and I really want to try it.”

  “It’ll be like a regular blow job, only your balls will sweat.”

  He shrugs. “Not my problem. See you later.” Picking up his coffee, he heads out of my apartment with a skip in his step.

  “Five years, mate,” is the last thing I hear before he slams my door.

  He is not going to understand a thing that has happened between me and Wren. I was an idiot to ever think that something could happen with her. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. What a selfish bastard.

  Luke deserves so much better, and so does Wren.

  How am I supposed to tell her we should stay in the friend zone?

  How the hell am I supposed to make her believe that’s for the best when I don’t believe it myself?

  Haven’t we gone too far for that?

  I pop two pills in my mouth and down them with coffee. The headache has gotten that bad, and I don’t think it has anything to do with getting drunk last night. I have to be at work in an hour. Lying back on the sofa, I close my eyes and silently promise myself that I’ll never screw up with Wren again.

  Somehow, I don’t believe myself.

  Forty-Four

  Wren

  Coffee with Niall.

  No matter how many times I say those three words, they don’t seem to make any sense.

  I’m here for answers, but what’s that going to change? Not a damn thing. Yet here I am, sitting in Starbucks, waiting for him to arrive. All because that small part of me who was hurt so deeply by him wants to hear his excuses.

  I arrive early because I want to see if he’ll be on time—see how much he really cared about who we had been.

  Let’s just say, I won’t be at all surprised if he’s late.

  If I wasn’t sitting down, I would have fainted. Niall walks in scanning the almost-empty building. It’s a dull, drizzly late Tuesday morning.

  His eyes find me, and he smiles. I used to love that smile.

  “Hey, Wren.”

  I don’t stand to greet him. “Hi.”

  “Do you want another drink? I know you can put away a lot of lattes.”

  I love a latte. I hate that he remembers it. “I’ll have a cappuccino, please.”

  “Cappuccino, hey?”

  I smile, but I’m fairly certain I just look like I’m silently growling.

  Niall goes to the counter to order our drinks. The bastard didn’t ask me if I wanted anything to eat. I definitely need a sugar rush to be around him. I want my damn blueberry muffin.

  Over the weekend, I have to be at Brody’s parents’ house for dinner again. Why I’m adding Niall stress on top of the anxiety I feel around Brody, I have no clue.

  He comes back to the table with two mugs of coffee and runs back.

  What an odd way to ditch me.

  I look over my shoulder to see him heading towards me again with two plates. A blueberry muffin on each one.

  Fucker.

  “Thank you,” I say as he sits, pushing a plate towards me.

  “You still like blueberry best, right?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I admit.

  He takes a breath like he’s preparing himself. “Wren…” With a shake of his head, he adds, “Wow, I don’t really know where to start. This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “You thought coffee would be hard?”

  “Seeing you again, after everything that happened.”

  He makes it sound like we both fucked up. I wasn’t the one sleeping with someone else.

  “What did happen, Niall? I’m still fuzzy on the details.”

  Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he clears his throat. “I was stupid.”

  “You were, but why? What happened that night? Because all I know is that you fucked someone else after going out ‘with the lads’.” I air quote because he always emphasised how important it was to be ‘with the lads’.

  I don’t disagree that friends are super important—I’d be lost without Mila and Indie—but if they were encouraging me to cheat, I’d look for new friends.

  “The guys kind of merged with a group of girls.”

  “The guys? You challenged their decision to merge, huh?”

  “I don’t know, Wren. I don’t remember.”

  “Yes, you do. If you’re not going to be one hundred percent honest with me, there is no point in us meeting.”

  “All right, all right. I’m sorry. This isn’t…”

  “Yeah, I get that you don’t want to have this conversation, but we need to.”

  “What are you looking to get out of this?”

  “Answers. I spent a long time wondering how you could do it. For a while, I thought there was something wrong with me.”

  He shakes his head. “No, Wren. Jesus. I’m sorry I made you feel like that. What I did had nothing to do with you or us. I wasn’t unhappy. I was a fucking idiot. It was flattering having attention from her.”

  “She gave you something that night that you didn’t feel you were getting from me?” I know my answer to this. We had a good relationship, spent plenty of time together, and showered each other with affection. I wasn’t looking for anything else, and more importantly, if I had been, I would have talked to him.

  “That’s not it. I was caught up in the evening, flirting, and I felt invincible, I guess. You were the best girlfriend, but I was the worst boyfriend.”

  “What happened?”

  “You want all the details?”

  I smile. “Yes, please.” Hearing about him having sex with someone else isn’t going to hurt me anymore.

  “Wren, seriously?”

  “Oh, serious as cheating.”

  He takes a deep breath. “We had a few drinks together, and then we danced.”

  “Did you kiss her while you were dancing?”


  A curt dip of his chin tells me they did.

  “Then, you went back to your house?”

  “We danced some more, did shots, and then went back to mine.”

  The bastard. “So, at no point between kissing her and then getting another drink did you think you should stop?”

  “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I messaged you at midnight when Mila and Indie left. You read that message but didn’t reply. Why?”

  It doesn’t take a genius to guess, but I want him to say the words.

  “We were getting into a taxi,” he admits.

  “And that didn’t stop you either?”

  “I’m sorry, Wren. I was young and stupid and thought I could have it all.”

  “What the fuck are you doing with this prick?” Brody growls. His shadow casting over Niall’s face.

  I jump at the sudden interruption. “Brody, what are you doing here?”

  “Walking past when I saw you with that!”

  “Hey!” Niall snaps.

  Brody turns his nose up as he glances briefly in Niall’s direction. “Oh, fuck off.”

  I stand. “Brody, we’re talking. I have questions. You shouldn’t have come in here. I can have coffee with whoever I want.”

  “Did you forget what he did?”

  “Of course, I didn’t! We’re talking about it.”

  “Really, Wren? You’re letting him worm his way back in with all of his excuses?”

  Niall stands up, but even if he were on the tips of his toes, he would still be shorter than Brody. “Listen, mate—”

  “I would need a lobotomy before I became your mate,” Brody cuts in.

  “Why don’t you turn around and leave us to it? She doesn’t need you racing to her rescue.”

  Do I even need to be here?

  “Hey!” I snap, my face heating at the fact that we now have an audience. “Brody, please leave. I’ve got this.”

  Brody turns slowly, his eyes darkening and lip curling in disgust. “You want me to leave you with him?”

  “I chose to meet him, and I can handle this myself.”

  I don’t need my… husband fighting my battles.

  Snorting, he growls, “You’re a fucking idiot, Wren.”

  Then, he’s gone, racing through the building like a tornado. He shoves the door so hard that it thumps against the wall outside.

  “Are you okay?” Niall asks.

  Dragging my eyes away from the dust cloud left by Brody, I force a smile. No, I’m not. “I’m fine.”

  “Can we sit down?”

  My jelly legs give way, and I drop to my seat.

  Niall sits more successfully and shakes his head. “He was always a bastard.”

  I shrug through the sick rolling of my stomach. “He’s not really that bad. A little hotheaded sometimes.”

  Fun drunk. Great in bed… or against a tree.

  “He has problems, Wren.”

  “I’m not here to talk about Brody.” I sip my cappuccino and wince at the strong burn. I definitely prefer lattes. I hate Niall talking badly about Brody.

  Niall’s back stiffens. “Right.”

  “You thought you could have it all? Like you wanted to continue with me and sleep with women behind my back?”

  “No!” His voice is several octaves above normal. “No, I would never. It was that moment, that stupid night. I made one huge mistake, and I’ll never stop being sorry. I lost the best thing I had. Sex is meaningless without you.”

  “When did you realise that?” I ask, but my heart’s not in it. Brody keeps popping into my head every five seconds. Is he okay?

  “While I was with her. As soon as it was over, I felt sick.”

  “Good.”

  He smiles weakly. “I am so sorry. I know I have no right, asking for forgiveness, but it would mean a lot if you at least didn’t hate me.”

  “Hate takes up a lot of effort. It consumes you and taints everything good in your life. So, no, I don’t hate you. I’ve moved on.”

  “Thank you,” he whispers. “Do you think we could keep in touch?”

  “Like, call each other?” I ask, picking at my blueberry muffin.

  “We could start with a message or Facebook comment now and then and see how you feel. I’ll take anything. Wren, I miss having you in my life.”

  There are certain things I miss about him. Like his mum and younger sister.

  “I guess it wouldn’t be awful to occasionally like a photo you post.”

  His smile grows to his eyes. “I’ll take it. If I friend request you, you’ll accept?”

  “I’ll accept. Hey, this muffin is really nice.”

  Niall laughs and tucks into his.

  I’m not looking for friendship with Niall, but I can’t deny that it would be nice to fully let go of the anger surrounding our end.

  Now, I just need to figure out what to do about Brody.

  Forty-Five

  Brody

  “You’re in a shit mood,” Tae says.

  I rub the dull ache between my eyes. “Long day.”

  “Everything okay, mate?”

  Why is everyone suddenly calling me mate? And what the fucking hell was she doing with him? The dickhead cheated on her. I wasn’t around much because I’d moved to my apartment around the same time and was busy, but I remember her being upset, crying.

  Why would she sit and have coffee with him?

  “Fine,” I reply. “Busy.”

  He holds his palms up. “I’m next door if you want to talk.”

  I curl my hand around my phone. If she gets back together with him… no, there is no way she could be that stupid.

  What if she does? I don’t think she would be fooled by his bullshit excuses, but she loved him once.

  She feels nothing for me but a bit of lust and frequent annoyance.

  I’ll see her on Saturday at my parents’ house for dinner again. How can I wait four more days to find out what’s going on?

  She won’t call, and I don’t want to reach out first after she told me to do one at Starbucks.

  Someone has to make the first move though, right?

  Why should that be me?

  Fuck’s sake!

  I turn my attention back to the white glare of my screen. Every day, I have dozens of emails to respond to. Today is no exception. Except today, I can’t be fucking bothered.

  People will have to fend for themselves until tomorrow. There’s only an hour left until I leave anyway. Tonight, I’m going to the gym to work out until I can barely stand. I need to channel this fucking anger somewhere that’s not finding Niall and breaking his smug face.

  He loved it when she told me to go.

  I bet he talked shit about me after I left. The wanker.

  God, why do I care what she does?

  We should wait until we’re divorced to see other people. It would be weird, having a girlfriend while I still have a wife.

  As I log out of my emails, a shrill alarm blasts from the speaker in the ceiling.

  “Great,” I mutter.

  The building had better be on fire if I’m walking down five flights of stairs.

  I leave the office with my phone and keys.

  “Never stop to pick up personal items,” our manager always says.

  Everyone stops to grab personal items.

  Tae and I head down the stairs with him looking over his shoulder for his wife.

  “So, is there a fire?”

  He looks back at me. “No, it’s a drill. Didn’t you get the email?”

  Of course. “I didn’t.”

  We reach the lobby and make our way outside where we have to stand until some dickhead with a clipboard decides we can go back in.

  “There you are,” Emilia says, walking into Tae’s open arms.

  “Hey, babe.”

  They were married last year, and shortly after, she took a job in the same building.

  I grit my teeth. “They need to hurry the fuck up.”


  Emilia grins. “Are you okay, Brody?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Tae arches a black eyebrow. “He’s cranky, but he doesn’t want to talk.”

  I ignore him.

  “Give him some space, baby,” Emilia coos.

  They’re disgustingly mushy together.

  “Yes, dear,” he teases.

  I fucking hate them. Who is actually that happy anyway?

  “You two really like being married, huh?” I’m sure my face is giving me away despite me trying not to be sarcastic.

  Emilia’s smile widens like she’s the Cheshire cat. “I love it. My parents never married, so I didn’t realise how important it was to me until we signed that paper. We’re connected in every way possible now, and nothing beats that.”

  Tae chuckles and kisses her temple.

  It’s nice to know that some people enjoy it. Wren doesn’t.

  Nor do I. Right?

  We’re getting divorced in a year or two. I’ll soon have the papers delivered that I need to sign.

  My stomach rolls at the thought of opening that letter. I hope it gets lost in the mail.

  I scratch the back of my neck as my skin prickles under the heat of the afternoon sun. I struggle to take a deep breath.

  Wren.

  She’s what I want, not a divorce.

  Forty-Six

  Wren

  I bite my lip, standing on the doorstep of Brody’s parents’ house. Everyone else is inside. I can see their cars in the drive and parked on the side of the road.

  We walk straight into each other’s houses, so there is no need for me to be out here. But my stomach is fluttering with nerves. It’s been four days since Brody’s tantrum in Starbucks.

  Just go in, you baby.

  Releasing my lip, I turn the door handle and walk inside. I’m instantly hit with the aroma of taco spice. James is a big Mexican food lover, and everything he cooks tastes amazing.

  I follow my nose into the kitchen and spot Brody immediately. He’s standing by the cooker with his dad, a bottle of Peroni in his hand, looking painfully gorgeous in simple jeans and a white T-shirt.

  Forcing my focus away from him, I greet everyone and accept a glass of rosé from his mum.