I OPENED MY eyes and groaned. My head was pounding, and the room was spinning.
“What the hell?” I groaned under my breath. It had been a while since I’d been hungover.
Then it came to me.
All of it.
The huge mess that was my life. I was a complete and utter fraud.
My new bestie, Rosalee, and our spontaneous road trip to Vegas to meet up with my older sister and her best friend.
Shopping and dancing.
Drinking and partying at a club until way too late.
That’s when things start to get a little murky. A last-minute attempt at getting lucky, I’d joked. The club guys had sucked, so a slot machine had been my next choice. I’d been on a losing streak and sober enough to be left downstairs at the casino alone. I’d moved to a different machine, one that I could have been blessed by Lady Luck herself with how much she was giving out! Then there was the sexy stranger with the velvety voice who came to my rescue when a drunk guy tried to kick me off my machine. He’d been sweet. Attentive and funny. One thing led to another, and we’d started to drink; my idea, of course! To celebrate my lucky streak, I’d toasted. We moved from the slots to the roulette table. The first try had been busy, so right before I had to make a choice on the second, completely last minute, I’d teased him into kissing me for luck, and I’d won. Once, twice, three times. By the fourth, I went all in; he gave me a kiss I’d felt down to the soles of my feet.
“You’re alive,” a way too chipper voice said, and I peeked through my lids to see the all too familiar blonde with a cheerful disposition on the edge of my bed. Rosalee, my new buddy, sat next to me, a water bottle in her hands.
“What happened?” I asked groggily, my mouth way too dry. My mind trying to reach and remember the guy or what happened after I’d gone all in.
“Vegas?” she said in a question, shrugging her delicate shoulders, and I wanted to laugh but couldn’t. Not when I had the hangover to end all hangovers.
“How can you possibly be this happy? You went shot for shot with me!” I reminded her.
“I’m, like, eight inches taller than you and outweigh you by at least twenty pounds, Leti Lets! I also know the key to partying is hydration, while you refused to drink anything that wasn’t four percent alcohol or higher… per ounce.”
“Funny,” I muttered, sitting up and looking around our room. “Did we go to a wedding?” I asked, looking at a bouquet on the nightstand by my bed. Her melodic giggle filled the air.
“No. Or at least I don’t think we did. Come on, get dressed. Our ride is waiting, and he’s not a happy camper.”
“Ride?”
“Remember we took last minute one-way flights here?”
“Yeah.”
“I only agreed because I knew how we could get us home.”
“You did? Wait, we could have hitched rides with Nina and Mace.”
“True, but they’re all lovey-dovey. No offense, I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to third wheel it with them. Plus, they hardly know me.” She had a point, I guessed.
“So, who is giving us a ride?”
“My brother.”
“The nice one or—“
“The other one.” Her tone was apologetic. “He’s here for one of his old buddy’s wedding.” The light in Rosalee’s eyes seemed to dim, but before I could ask, a heavy knock sounded at our door. “Okay, again, remember I’m sorry about this. He’s…”
“A grouch?” I guessed, rubbing my face, and she shook her head. I’d heard stories about him from her and her other brother, Ron.
“That’s too nice. He means well; he’s just… my older brother. He has a lack of…” She paused, and another knock sounded. “Lack of personality.” That made me laugh and scowl as my head throbbed. Ugh, why had I drunk so much?!
“Let me take some clothes and my water into the bathroom. I’ll get ready quickly.”
“Take your time.” She waved. “He can wait.” She winked, and I smiled as I grabbed clothes and jetted into the bathroom.
I looked into the mirror and groaned. I looked like a mess. A huge hot mess.
My perfectly set makeup from the night before was all over the place like some kind of Pollack painting, and my hair… well, there was no nice way of saying it. It was a rat’s nest. Then something caught my eye and I frowned. I leaned forward, getting closer to the mirror as my hands touched my neck.
“What the hell?” I whispered, focusing on a reddish-purple mark on my neck. A hickey?
I closed my eyes, but as much as I tried, I couldn’t remember anything past winning big at the table. My mystery guy having an amazing laugh and suggesting I run away with him. Had we actually run off? Hand in hand, laughing down the halls of a lower level of a different hotel? I started the water as I tried to remember.
We’d gone to a chapel.
I could see it, and my stomach dropped as I shut my eyes. I lifted my hand and talked myself into taking a look. Relief washed over me as I looked at my ringless left hand. Then a memory hit. A gorgeous arch of fresh flowers, the soft clean scent of roses and jasmine surrounding the room. I could see it like it was happening in front of me. I’d looked up at him, and he’d winked. My breath had hitched, and my heart had squeezed. He was the kind of man who could do serious damage if you let yourself catch feelings.
I shook my head and quickly took my clothes off and hopped in the shower. Whatever the hell happened after that was fuzzy. So fuzzy I almost thought that maybe I’d made it up.
My hand dropped to my neck, and if that mark hadn’t been left behind, I would have believed it had all been a dream. A big over-the-top dream.
I closed my eyes and faced the hot spray of the shower. My hand dropped to the temperature gauge and moved it in the other direction. A tiny squeal escaped my lips as the icy spray beat down. Maybe a cold shower would help my brain spark a memory? I closed my eyes and felt the water rejuvenate me.
The memory of dark brown, almost black eyes flashed in my mind’s eye. A dark tense passion-filled gaze I almost seemed to know better than my own. As I lathered up my body, it didn’t go unnoticed how sensitive my skin seemed to feel, and it had nothing to do with the cool temperature.
I rolled my neck and shook my head, confused by the way my body felt. Sensitive but sated.
My head wasn’t hurting so much anymore by the time I shut off the water, but my mind was too fuzzy. The memories of last night weren’t clear, and all it left me thinking was, who in the hell was my mystery guy?
Max Riley
I’d woken up reaching for the girl I didn’t know was possible to dream up, craving to finally have her body and taste her kiss, but I came up empty.
To say that had set the mood for my morning would be a fucking understatement. When her side of the bed had met me with nothing but cold sheets, I’d almost wondered if I had somehow conjured her up. I’d lain in bed with an arm thrown behind my head and thought about her.
Dark brown hair that fell like a waterfall and a stare of milk chocolate pools swirled with golden caramel that made me feel like a fucking hero. She had been too good to be true. Funny and quick witted. Charming all my friends, even Logan, who had all but been left at the altar by the queen bitch herself, but that wasn’t about my girl.
Leticia.
Fuck, even her name made me hard.
She had everyone eating out of her hand. Every single one of my friends, but I had been the one completely bewitched. Entranced by her and her no-game-playing, blunt mouth and captivated by a chemical pull I’d never felt. Looking around her, holding her in my arms while she laughed, had been euphoric. Then there was her sense of humor. I don’t think I had ever laughed as much as I did with her last night. She’d had me all but on my knees. Begging for more attention a mere second after meeting completely by chance.
Some dick had tried to push her off a slot machine, and I’d stepped in.
Thinking back, I wasn’t sure if I had done it knowing I’d be looking into the eyes of the woman I would one day marry. Not that I regretted it, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for the one. But fuck it now. It was too late because of how deeply looking into the golden-brown eyes had affected me in such a profound way I knew there would be no one else.
It sounded crazy to look into the eyes of a woman and just know she was your future, but that’s what had happened. I’d known. Like a shot to the heart, I had known she was the one.
She’d called me her good luck charm. Last-minute luck, she’d said.
We’d gambled and she’d won big.
I’d taken her to my best friend Logan’s wedding, and when it didn’t happen, we had gone together to the reception. There we had celebrated him and the lucky hand he’d been given avoiding latching himself to his horrible now ex. Leticia had taken it all in stride. Drinking shot for shot with Logan.
Coming back to my room had been a blur, but I knew I couldn’t have her with both of us intoxicated with lust and alcohol. Instead we’d made out like teenagers. Necking and grinding with our clothes on until we’d both come hard against one another. Just as the sun had been rising, sleep claimed both of us, our bodes tangled up in the sheets and one another.
But time had run out, and so had she.
Long gone from my room, without a note. If it hadn’t been for the sexy heel on the floor of my room, I would have thought she had been a fantasy. A drunken dream girl my imagination had made up.
Now I had to go get my sister and her friend from their room at a completely different hotel and drive us back home. I hoped like hell they wouldn’t be hungover because the one I was nursing was enough of a bitch.
I knocked once at the room door my sister had texted me. Then twice. I double-checked I was at the right place, rereading the text she’d shot off to me, and knocked a third time. Again with no damn answer.
“Rosalee,” I huffed under my breath. She had always been on the straight and narrow.
A good girl. Great sister. Stable and reliable, so unlike so many of my friends’ own younger siblings. That was until just recently, when she met this new friend of hers.
She’d broken up with Patrick, her long-time boyfriend, and going out like the night called to her. She was young; I got that she had to spread her wings and live. But why she was being reckless and unlike herself, I blamed on this new “buddy” of hers. I pulled out my phone and started to text her. She was probably knocked out still, dead asleep to the damn world.
“I’m coming!” she called, and the door swung open. Her hair was up in a messy bun, her eyes bright and awake. Too damn happy for the morning. “Oh! You look cheerful,” she teased. I wasn’t a bubbly person. I owned that. In our family I was the black sheep. Grouchy and serious.
“Shut up,” I mumbled, stepping into the room. “You look sober,” I noted with a brow raised as I looked around the room.
“And you look hungover,” she smarted off.
Again, something she never used to do. I scowled but shook my head as I took in the room. It was mostly clean. A couple of articles of clothes on the floor and shoes kicked off. Unmade beds. Two carry-on bags open on one bed.
“You’re driving the first stretch, then,” I muttered, taking a seat on one of the chairs, my knees set wide apart as I looked up at her.
“You’re going to let me drive her?” she gushed, and I winced. My sister was always on me about letting her drive my bright orange Charger. My head was still a little throbby, and if I was honest, my heart ached.
Literally ached at the idea of leaving Vegas without my mystery girl or figuring out a way to get a hold of her.
“Sure. Just… take it easy on her, okay?” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I promise!” She crossed over her heart, and my lips quirked upward. Her head tilted and she was studying me a little too closely. “Are you… smiling?”
“Lee,” I warned.
“Oh, it’s Lee…” I scowled. I usually only called her that to get her to stop bugging me. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to figure out how to get her to stop the Spanish inquisition I knew was just on the edge of going down.
“What happened last night?” she asked, too inquisitive for her own good as she picked up the couple of shoes on the ground.
“Logan got stood up,” I shared, trying to get her off my back. She stilled from picking up the clothes around the room.
“He was?”
“Yup. The she-devil texted him saying she couldn’t marry him.
“No!” she whispered, her eyes wide. Logan had been my best friend since middle school, so she knew him. He had always been around us. Before Rosalee hooked up with Patrick, I could have sworn she’d had a crush on Logan.
“Oh yeah. Get this, she told him she’s been seeing someone else. In a text!”
“Wow.” She sat down, and had I been paying attention, I would have seen she looked like all the wind had been blown out of her sails. But I wasn’t paying attention. My head was hurting too much.
“And wanna hear the kicker?”
“There is more?”
“She had told him she was pregnant. That’s why he was going to tie the knot. Only to find out it was all a lie.”
“She lied about being pregnant?”
“Yup,” I said with a pop at the end. “She thought he was onto her about cheating and made the whole thing up. But bright side, she moved out of his place while we were here.”
“Wow,” she breathed. The black heel in her hand looked awfully familiar to the one my girl had left in my room.
“All girls have shoes like that?” I asked without thinking, and Rosalee’s brows went high.
“Umm… why?”
“Why what?” a voice asked behind me but before I could turn.
“He asked if we all have shoes like yours.” Rosalee grinned, and something hit my gut. “I can’t find your other one though.” My sister’s words processed, and all I could think was Shit.
Breathing in deep, I took in a slightly familiar note in the air. I turned, and it was like everything moved in slow motion. My eyes were cast down, and I soaked her in from the bottom up. Tiny little feet, cute pink toes, tanned lithe legs, frayed shorty shorts that seemed to fit her a little too loose at the waist. An oversized white hoodie covered the top half of her body and the slight curves I knew lay beneath. Curves I had held all night and rubbed against.
When our eyes met, I stood up and watched her swallow.
“It’s you,” we both said, taking one step forward toward one another before freezing in place.
“It’s you.” Again, at the same time, and if my heart wasn’t beating against my chest and my dick raging to life, I would have found the moment funny.
“What’s going on?” Rosalee said, breaking the silence, reminding me my baby sister was in the room and if that was the case, Leticia was… Jesus, please don’t say it. “Do you two know each other?” Lee pressed on, and we both looked in her direction.
“No.”
“Yes,” I said just as she denied it. Rosalee’s blue eyes went big and then filled with mischief.
“Oh boy,” she sighed. “I think things just got interesting.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and I turned to look at my girl. She was frowning, little lines forming at her forehead, and fuck me if I didn’t think they were adorable.
“You know me,” I turned to her and said, my voice rough and deep.
“I dreamt you up,” she blurted and blushed at her words.
“That’s how I felt too when I woke up alone,” I pointed out, hating the disappointment clear in my voice. I was giving away too much.
“Alone?” She scowled and then paled. “Did… did we… I mean…” She swallowed and took a step back. We weren’t close, not enough for me to touch her, but I felt the loss in my gut.
“Hello!” Rosalee chimed in. “What’s going on?”
“He’s your brother?” Leticia asked
“Leti, what happened?” Leti. I liked that. It suited her. Different yet short and sweet. Spunky.
“He was my last-minute good luck charm,” she breathed, and I grinned wolfishly. I fucking dug that nickname too.
“Okay… I don’t know what that means,” Rosalee said, her hand out like she was calming a small animal.
“What she’s saying is, we met at the casino last night,” I clarified.
“Okay…” Lee said slowly. “But that doesn’t explain why she would care about you waking up alone in your bed in a different casino.”
“I took her to the wedding.”
“We didn’t get married, right?” The question was so outrageous I almost wanted to laugh, but I didn’t like the fact last night wasn’t as crystal clear for her as it was for me.
“No.” Not yet. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but the deer-in-headlights look she was sporting was enough of a warning to keep my trap shut.
“Why doesn’t my friend remember being with you?” Lee asked, getting between Leti and me, and I scowled.
“You know I would never put a woman in harm’s way.”
“It’s obvious she doesn’t remember, Max,” she said sternly, “so how about you explain and help clear it up for her.”
“We drank too much. Look, Leti decided to cheer Logan up, and they went shot for shot with a bottle of Don Julio. We went back to my room and slept.”
“That was it. Slept?” Lee asked.
“That’s all?” Leti repeated, peeking at Lee, and I was pretty sure she was standing on the tips of her toes to look over her shoulder. By the look on her face I could see she didn’t remember. Or if she did, she was fuzzy on some things.
“Yes, that’s all.” I omitted making out with her. There was no reason my little sister needed to know the nitty gritty.
“Okay, then…” Lee said slowly, looking at her friend. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Leti shrugged but didn’t meet my eyes, and there was something about that that didn’t sit well with me. “I just need to get my things together and we can go,” she said, scurrying around the room and picking up a couple of things tossed around. I took the shoe from my sister’s hand and smiled on the inside. Relief soothed my soul.
I’d found her.
I would have her in my space and make sure I didn’t ever lose her again.
Guess Rosalee’s little rebellious streak, thanks to her new bestie, was going to work out in my favor.
I’d found my girl, and there was no way I’d let her slip through my fingers again.
