Vegas Love (2 page)

“Why not? She’s hotter than hell.”

“Let her come to you.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“Trust me on this.”

“Fine. Whatever. So, hey, next weekend, I think we should go to that music festival. Lots of alcohol and free love to be had.”

“Love is never free,” I say, teasing him. “You should know that after dating Prada Pauline.”

“She was certainly willing to let me spend my hard-earned money on her, but I cut her loose when she started going on about the C-word.”

“The C-word?”

“Commitment, dude. I’m not ready for a house and the white picket fence just yet.” He glances in the direction of the big-boobed girl again. “Too much fun to be had. So, should I get us tickets?”

“No, I have a wedding to go to in California.”

“Whose wedding?”

“Family friend. Maddox Harper.”

“The running back? Are you serious? He’s marrying that hot-as-hell supermodel.” He slaps my back. “Can you imagine how hot all the bridesmaids will be? Not to mention the guest list. I’ve always dreamed of being backstage at a Victoria’s Secret fashion show. I bet that’s what the wedding will be like.”

“Except they’ll have their clothes on.”

“Dude, you have to take me. I’ll be your plus one.”

“It’s a small wedding.”

Jared picks up his beer and pouts. “You’re gonna get laid by some gorgeous model, and I’m going to be stuck here.” His eyes wander back toward boob girl.

“Stop looking at her. It makes you look desperate,” I tell him.

“Did you see the tits on her? Hard not to stare.”

“She looks like a mis-formed Barbie doll. Like someone blew her boobs up just to see how big they could make them without her toppling over.”

He glances at her again. “Remember when we were freshman and how I was obsessed with titty-fucking?”

I laugh out loud. “Remember when you”—I laugh harder—“and Megan . . . Shaney?” I grab my drink napkin to dab my eyes, I’m laughing so hard—because we
both
remember.

“Dude, it was one of my proudest moments. I couldn’t wait to tell everyone that I titty-fucked
and
gave a girl a pearl necklace all at the same time.” He chuckles. “It had the makings of an epic sexual tale.”

“Until . . . Until . . .” I can’t even say it. I’m hysterical.
 

“Until she went fucking ballistic!”

“Might have helped if you had prepared her for it. Because then when she . . . She . . .” I can’t stop laughing.

He laughs harder too. “Yes, she grabbed me by the dick and lead me down the dorm hall.”

I double over with laughter, so clearly seeing it in my mind. His skinny, naked, white ass being lead by his dick on the way to the communal bathroom.

“Dave and I were sitting on the floor in the hallway, drinking gin and half-baked when you go walking by. She was cussing up a storm, your dick was in her hand, and she’s got”—I’m dying with laughter—“a
wad
of it in her hair. And Dave turns to me and deadpans,
You think she might be pissed?
”

“It was crazy. The most amazing sexual moment of my life, followed by the scariest one. I’m living in a dorm. Feeling like the big man on campus. No parental supervision. Finally getting it whenever I wanted, and I was afraid she was going to break my dick off!”

“Then you asked her to our frat’s winter formal.” I slap the table. I can’t stop laughing. “You’re one brave motherfucker.”

Boob girl sits down on the bench next to me.
 

“You two are having way too much fun.” She leans forward just enough to give Jared a shot of her massive cleavage. I’d be afraid to know what’s down there. It could provide shelter for a small army.
 

“You don’t like fun?” I choke out, because I’m a fucking good wingman and already know what a girl like her’s response will be.

“I
love
fun,” she says with a cheerful smile.
 

My phone vibrates, so I hold my finger up to Jared to let him know I’m taking the call.
 

“Hey, bro. What’s up?” I say, answering the call from my oldest brother, Cade. He’s been trying to get me to come back home to work with him for a while now. When I was highly recruited to join the top corporate law firm in Seattle, I was honored to have been chosen, but now I’m just bored. And other than a few frat buddies still in the area, everyone I love is in Southern California.

“This is the last time I’m asking,” he says.
 

“Yes,” I reply.

“What? Seriously? Every time I ask you say no.”

“Yes. Seriously. I’ll take the job.”
 

“Fucking awesome. It’s loud, you at a club?”

“It
is
a Saturday night.”

“Well, I’m still working.”

“It’s loud there. Doesn’t sound like you’re working
too
hard.”

“Industry party,” he says and I can practically hear his eyes rolling.

A soft voice purrs in his ear, asking if he’ll buy her a drink. Cade is a master at making people come to him, particularly gorgeous women. He and my brother, Carter, are two of the biggest manwhores in all of L.A. When he responds with,
My pleasure,
I know our conversation is over. But he surprises me when he continues, “I need you to start Monday morning, so plan on coming here right after the wedding. You can move your shit later.”

“I don’t know about that. I love Mom and Dad, but I’m not moving in with them. I’m going to need some time to find a—”

“You can stay with Carter at the beach until you find something.”

“Is he okay with that?”

“He doesn’t have a choice, since he just lost our bet.”

“What bet was that?”

“That I’d be the one to get you to come back home, securing my spot as our parents’ favorite.”

I laugh as I end the call.

When I get back to our table, Jared and massive-boob girl are making out and a pretty doe-eyed brunette is sitting in my spot, looking bored.

When I sit down, she holds out her hand. “You must be Cash. I’m Lana. You wanna get the hell out of here?”

“Hell yeah,” I say, knowing exactly where this is going.
 

As I hail a cab, she slides her hand down the front of my pants and says, “My roommates are gone for the weekend.”

“Perfect,” I reply.

Against the Wall

Ashlyn

I’m headed to the airport to meet Zach. I take a deep breath. I just know this is it. The weekend he’s going to propose. I know we’ve only been dating for a few months, but they have been hugely, wildly romantic, and practically epic—like dating a real-life prince. It’s clear to everyone that he’s crazy about me.
 

I’m trying to imagine how he might pop the question when I get a text.

Harper:
 
So are you still thinking this is it?

Me:
 
Yes!

Harper:
 
It just seems like he’d do something bigger and classier than a Vegas proposal. Isn’t he more of a top-of-the-Eiffel-Tower-at-sunset kind of guy?
 

Me:
 
He mentioned that we were taking a helicopter ride over the strip. That would be pretty cool.

Harper:
 
And loud.

Me:
 
Don’t you think all the stuff he’s done for me has been leading up to it?

Harper:
 
Maybe. It just seems so soon. You’ve only been dating for four months.

Me:
 
You and Maddox have only known each other for six and you’re getting married.

Harper:
 
Yeah, I guess you’re right.
 

Me:
 
Plus, it’s just him and me. No music tour. No fans. And, definitely, no family. Not only am I expecting it to be romantic, I’m hoping for some hot, sweaty, we-don’t-leave-our-suite Vegas sex.

Harper:
 
Are you sure he’s the right guy for you? I don’t know, Ash.

Me:
 
Why would you say that?

Harper:
 
I just picture you with someone different. More athletic, maybe. I kind of thought when you went to Vegas with Maddox’s agent, Carter Crawford, that you’d fall in love. I picture you with someone like him. Someone who, at twenty-five, still doesn’t live at home with his mommy. And although he’s done amazing stuff, Zach has never invited you to go home with him. That just sets off red flags for me.

Me:
 
Carter and I had zero sparks, and I have no idea why. I mean, he’s exactly my type. Former college quarterback turned sports agent, smart, great body, sweet and sexy. It’s sad, really. It was like kissing my brother. Maybe it was because his brother, Cade, is my talent agent?

Besides, I like Zach. And I’ve met his family.

Harper:
 
There’s the key word: LIKE. You didn’t say you’re crazy in love with him. You didn’t say he completes you. You didn’t say that you can’t get enough of him. And you’ve only met his parents while they were on tour. I’d think as close as they are, you’d have gone home with him and gotten their approval before he proposes. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. And Maddox echoes my thoughts. I know he’s doing all the big gestures, but what about the small ones?
 

Me:
 
What do you mean?

Harper:
 
Has he ever surprised you with breakfast in bed? Made you coffee? Has he ever offered you emotional support when you needed it?

Me:
 
He orders room service.

Harper:
 
What about the sex? Is it hot? Like, throw-you-against-the-wall-and-do-you-in-the-dressing-room-before-his-concert-because-he-can’t-wait-until-it’s-over hot?

Me:
 
Um. Not exactly. But just because you are marrying a sexy-as-hell football player who can’t keep his hands off you . . .
 

Harper:
 
If Zach hasn’t done you up against a wall sometime—somewhere—you shouldn’t want to marry him. Ever.
 

Me:
 
Maybe you should stop modeling and start writing relationship advice.

Harper:
 
I probably should. I mean, think about it. You have money. You have fame. You need an amazing guy who takes care of you. Someone you have amazing sparks with. And someone who is so into you, he wouldn’t care about posting photos of what you’re doing for his fans to see. When you find a guy like that, you should marry him. And do you really want to end up living in Zach’s parents’ compound in Wyoming, or wherever it is that they’re from?
 

Me:
 
I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
 

Harper:
 
Don’t agree to marry anyone until you have. P.S. Hot sex = Passion. You need passion not a fucking carnival.

Later that evening, I’m coming out of the bedroom dressed to kill when I see Zach snorting something off his finger. “What are you doing? Is that cocaine!?”