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She scooted in closer, bumping my elbow before she waved down the bartender. “You looked a bit cornered.”
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure they were safely out of ear shot before admitting, “I was, holy hell, she can talk.”
Elora laughed, shaking her head. “Some things don’t change, huh?”
Fuck, how true that was. I studied her features for a minute, the sleek, petite lines of her face, and once-precise curls weighed down by one too many spins and a healthy sheen of sweat.
“Yeah. Some things,” I agreed. Like how much I fucking wanted her. Even now, all these years later. Suddenly the condensation on my glass became immensely interesting, my thumb rubbing little windows clean on the cool surface.
“For example, there’s still nobody I’d rather lick my wounds with,” she added lightly, my gaze snapping over to that sweet smile. The same one she wore when we got in trouble as kids, like she knew it was wrong, but had deemed it worth it. Because we’d managed the mischief together. All I could think was I’d like to lick something but I managed to bite down on my need to say it, nodding instead.
“So,” I said softly, “where’s the magnanimous Elora Rhodes off to next?”
We spent the next hour nursing our drinks as she ran me through her next few months of travel plans, and then asked me every imaginable question about this semester’s workload, who my favorite students were, who was causing trouble, and who I expected to see the most out of. We talked about our families, although my two loving parents’ hectic lives took a fraction of the time that recounting all eleven Rhodes siblings did. As if the sheer number of them didn’t make it hard to keep track, the fact that at least half of them traveled for a living certainly did.
No matter how many tales we told, I still couldn’t shake the lingering irritation that I’d bowed out of her way, only for Pierce to walk away with the money anyway. I’d been avoiding the subject, not wanting to add insult to injury, but the infuriating reality was niggling at my gut. “Look, El, I’m sorry about the results tonight. I?—”
With an adorably wrinkled nose, she shook her head as she cut me off. “Enough talk of competition. It is what it is.” She waved away the conversation, but I didn’t miss the pinch in her brows. Right. Don’t rub salt in the wound, you idiot. Elegantly, El swirled the last of her red wine before setting the glass down with a quiet thud that left no room for debate, then spun it by the stem. “You wanna get outta here?”
Still leaning back in my bar stool, I crossed one arm over my chest, the other braced against my jaw as I listened to her. I feigned thought for a moment. I didn’t need to process that answer, but smiled and asked, “Where to, Rhodes?”
She shrugged, her cheeks flushing a bit, which did nothing to tamp down my need to touch her. “Maybe Pierce has the right idea.”
“Sweaty, untied tie Pierce?” I said skeptically, amused, grinning as we both glanced at Thor himself, still dominating the dance floor. She giggled, staring at her empty glass before meeting my eyes with a spark in her own.
“I mean, neither of us are gonna drink away a loss alone. What are the chances the two of us will ever be in this city together again? Why not…do Vegas?”
My imagined version of ‘doing Vegas’ had more to do with one too many drinks and a humiliating Elvis-ordained wedding than slots and blackjack, but I never could say no to this woman.
“Alright,” I agreed.
“Really?!” she squeaked, rising to her feet in an instant.
“Don’t ruin it,” I muttered, knocking back the last of my drink. I’d passed pleasantly buzzed about twenty minutes ago, now teetering precariously on tipsy. She mimed zipping her lips, and I chuckled as I slid my wallet from a back pocket to pay the tab. “What all does that entail, Pix?”
“Let’s see, drinks—check. Maybe loitering behind old women and then stealing their slot machines?”
“You watch Friends too much.”
“Come on, let me blow your dice.”
I choked on my laugh, flicking a skeptical gaze her way. The bartender wordlessly took my credit card from me, vanishing to close out my tab. I wet my lips before saying, “That’s what you’re thinking about? Blowing on my dice?”
She grinned. But the part of me I was desperate to kill could have sworn there was a playful insinuation in her tone when she said, “It’s a start.”
With a theatrical sigh, I stood, grabbing my jacket off the back as she wiggled in her seat before doing the same. I motioned towards the front entrance and said, “Lead the way.”
El threw her arms up in victory, a smile making her face glow. “To the Craps tables!”
SEVENTEEN
ELORA
“That’s it. You’re my lucky charm. I’m never letting you go, Pix.”
I desperately tried to keep my walls up in the hours of drinks and laughter, of clasping his big hands in mine to blow into his cupped palms, hoping to bless his dice with luck. The blur of lights, bells, endless shouting speakers and cheers or groans of sloshed patrons surrounding tables all mixed into a chaotic concoction with the occasional moments of clarity. Moments like his hand sliding to the small of my back as we crossed the casino. Moments like his lips brushing my cheek after we won an impressive pile of chips. Moments like Broderick pulling me into one of the tacky gift shops and nudging me toward the tower of postcards.
I’d laughed and said, “Oh my gosh, you remember!” Because for several long, pathetic years, every new place my travels took me, I never forgot to send one home to him with a recount of the trip's highlights and a ‘wish you were here’. He never wrote back. Just thanked me via text and we’d chat for a moment before he’d vanish again.
