“In that case, it will hit off the back wall and come right back to you.” He laughed and tilted his head to mimic mine.
I stared into his green eyes and he stared back, not saying anything. A slow smile crept up his face and I huffed. “Fine. But that was warm up, so you don’t have any points.”
He chuckled then jogged to where the ball sat on the floor near the front wall. “If I lose by one point, we tie.” He tossed me the ball again.
“Whatever,” I giggled and bounced the ball and swung, hitting it against the front wall again.
We went back and forth, laughing and I ending up losing. I knew I’d lose, but I had to give it a shot. At one point, I envisioned it as Rich’s head and I hit it as hard as I could. It bounced from the front wall, straight to the back wall and then bouncing and hitting a side wall. Gabe hit it on the same side wall and I swung as hard as I could again and missed the ball completely.
“Letting off steam, angel?” He laughed.
“You have no idea,” I panted, trying to catch my breath from running around to chase the ball.
Something switched in Gabe’s head. I don’t know what it was, but he started to lighten up on his swing and I was able to hit the ball instead of missing it.
“Letting me win, Mr. Green Eyes?”
He shook his head with a smirk on his face. “Not at all.”
I chuckled. “Right.”
We continued again as I panted all over the court, trying to catch up to the ball and hit it. The more I swung, the more I could feel my stress leaving my body. Rich could stay at work every night for all I cared. It was better that way. Sure he could still monitor me on the cameras in the house, but I wasn’t walking around on eggshells.
After some time, I finally gave up. Sweat was running down my back and I could barely catch my breath. Lying on the floor on my back, I sighed. “I like getting sweaty with you.”
His laugh could be heard around the room as it echoed, then he lay beside me, both of us staring up at the ceiling with florescent lights. “I figured we should at least pretend to play since we come in here sometimes.”
I sighed, my breathing starting to even out. “I have to go soon.”
He looked over at me, turning his head. “Yeah, it’s about that time. Are you almost ready to leave him?”
I turned my head to face him. “Let’s not talk about the plan. Let’s talk about you. Tell me about yourself for a few minutes before I leave.”
He turned and stared back up at the ceiling. “Well … as you know, I was in the army—served for nine years. I always wanted to serve my country because my grandpa did.”
“Why’d you stop?”
I started to think he hadn’t heard me because it took him a few seconds to answer. “Got tired of the sand and shit.”
It felt like there was more to the story, but I didn’t press him. I knew a lot of soldiers suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder, and I didn’t want to force Gabe to tell me until he was ready. We were becoming good friends; he’d tell me when he was ready—I hoped. “I bet. I can’t even imagine seeing what you must have seen.”
“Yeah … Sometimes it haunts me.”
Trying to lighten the mood, I asked. “Have you ever been in love?”
He didn’t speak for a few beats again. “That’s a story for a rainy day.”
“It doesn’t rain that often in Vegas.” I laughed.
“Right,” he mumbled. “Time for some coffee.” He stood and held his hand out for me.
Call it a woman’s intuition, but I knew there was something he was hiding and didn’t want to talk about. I hoped once we were able to spend time with each other outside of Club 24, he would open up and tell me. I was already starting to care for him. Any man willing to help a stranger leave her abusive husband was a hero in my book and worth having as a friend—ahotfriend with benefits.
“You look cute, princess,” Rich said, putting gel in his light brown hair as I did my makeup. We were getting ready for his big party, and I just wanted to hurry and get the night over with. But instead, I had to play the perfect trophy wife with perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect nails and the perfect dress.
When I’d tried on the black floor length dress at the store, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wear something so sexy. The slit was high—so high that if I sat down in animproper fashion, you’d see more than what Rich would deem acceptable.
But when I stepped out of the dressing room, I saw how Gabe looked at me, and I knew I had to buy it. And when I slipped it on after my shower, all I’d thought about was how his hand had slid up my thigh, seeking my pussy.
