Page 79 of Gilt

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

It’s just past two in the morning when we land in Vegas. We’re far enough away from the neon signs of the Strip, that the only light is from the blanket of stars overhead. I spot Josie leaning against her beat-up junker. Judging from the shorts, tank top, and vacant expression, she’s still half asleep. Jameson raises an eyebrow when he spots her. “I could give you a ride home.”

I force a tight smile. “I’m not going home.”

Realization flashes in Jameson’s eyes. With everything else that has been going on, it’s easy to forget that home is not my happy place currently. “You could stay with me, and we wouldn’t get into trouble at all.”

I shake my head, and this time the grin on my face is real. The thought at staying at Jameson’s house turns me into a puddle of melted jelly, and that’s exactly why it’s a bad idea. The thought of waking up next to Jameson is tempting. But I doubt we’d ever go to bed, or at least to sleep.

“My parents are already really pissed at me,” I remind him, and given the events of tonight, I doubt that’s about to change.

“Screw your parents. You’ll be eighteen soon.”

“Yes, I will,” I confirm with a peck on his lips. “Call me crazy, but that’s a little young to be living with my boyfriend.”

“Okay, you’re crazy,” he teases, hooking his fingers in the loops of my jeans. “I think we’re old souls.”

“That might be true, but according to our drivers licenses, I’m a minor and you’re already in enough trouble.”

“I’ve never seen either of those facts on my license.” He tilts his head in acknowledgment of that fact, but I can tell he’s still not buying what I’m selling. That’s okay, he doesn’t have to. I’m the only one who has to live with my decision. “You sure I can’t convince you otherwise?”

“I’ll visit,” I promise him. “You’re going to be sick of me, Jameson West.”

“I could never be sick of you.”

“Wanna bet?” Part of me hopes that’s true, but even with my questionable background in relationships, I don’t think that’s how it works.

“We won’t know until we try.”

“Spoken like a guy trying to get into my pants.”

He leans forward, each of his breaths tickling my ear as he whispers, “I’ve already been there, Duchess. I just miss my happy place.”

“Are you saying my vagina is your happy place?”

“Baby, it’s my personal Disney World.”

Josie coughs loudly behind us, and we startle apart. “Now that you two have ruined my childhood”—she pauses to yawn—“can we get going? Some of us need our beauty sleep.”

I throw my arms around her and squeeze. Some people go home. But for me, some people are home. But before I can join her in the car, Jameson catches me around the waist. “Are you sure I can’t convince you otherwise?”

“Well, no,” I say a bit too forcefully. He drops his hold on me. “I mean, no. It’s not a good idea.”

He glances from me to Josie, then he kisses my cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Duchess.”

“When?” I asked as he starts to back away. It’s a little sad that I want to plan my entire day around him. Sometimes a girl has to give in to her cravings. He shrugs, looking like a definition of the word cocky, as he stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets. “Depends on when I get up and around. I have a hard time getting up out of bed.”

“Do you?” I ask.

“Sure you don’t want to come over and see what I mean?” he offers.

I roll my eyes. Then I turn and loop my arm with my best friend’s.

“Why are you passing up that invitation?” she hisses under her breath.

“Trust me, the invitation is open.”

I may have woken Josie up, but her mom is just getting off her shift at the MGM Grand. She throws open the door to the tiny matchbox the Deckards call home as soon as we reach the front stoop. Her face is freshly washed, her dark skin glistening with moisturizer, and her hair is pulled into a tight knot at the top of her head. She’s also doing her best impression of a pissed-off lioness.