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I hunched over in shock. Whit stopped the story there and I sat thinking. Unblinking. I couldn’t speak, but I wanted to hold him.
“Take me home with you.” I asked feeling wounded.
Whit made a sound, a mix between a chuckle and a groan filled with grief. “I didn’t tell you this story so you would feel poorly and come back to my house.”
“That’s not why I want to come over.”
“It isn’t?” He said with a defensive tone. “Most girls dig a guy with a sad story and baggage.”
I dried up my tears. “I think we both know I bring the baggage to this relationship.”
20
Lia
Vegas is a whirlwind of colors and movement. I tried to catch everything on my camera from the airport to the drive. It was a surprise for the bachelor, Whit’s friends Hunter that us ladies would be here. I was excited to hang out with new friends. I’d already snuck a drink with Kristen on the plane and arranged for us to get tattoos before we met up with the guys. I just didn’t expect Whit to be uptight twenty-five hundred miles from home. We’d been here barely a few hours and he looked like he wanted to drag me home again.
Whittaker hustled down the sidewalk past street performers, clouds of hazy weird smelling smoke and a light show put on by one of the many hotels. I was out of breath and struggling to keep pace with his much longer stride.
“Hey, would you slow down Ranger Jones. I don’t see a bear chasing us.” To say my boyfriend had been oddly quiet since his confession du jour before this trip was an understatement.
He spun me around and pressed me back against the cement railing that butted up against a pool of glowing water.
“You’re vexing me purposefully aren’t you.” He rested his hands on the railing on either side of me. We’re separated by mere inches and his breath is slightly coated in beer.
“I vex you?” I said incredulously. I felt like I’d been walking around on eggshells around him afraid to mention my parents or his or any combination of the two.
“You. Vex. Me.” His glare didn’t match the way he licked his lips or the way his pulse thumped in the side of his neck wild and visible. If I had condors conducting a dance party when he was around I supposed the turnabout was fair play.
“Delightful.” I murmured. “And pray tell, Ranger Jones, what is it this evening you find so vexing about me.”
He doesn’t respond, but his nose follows a trail along the line of my neck from my center to the hollow just under my ear. His fingers pinched into my hip bones. I winced at the spot of my new tattoo.
“That shit better wash off.” He growled pressing harder.
My hands reached up in between us pressing him back with all my strength. Two pushes and I relented. Yeah. No. I wasn’t budging his grumpy highness until he had his say.
“Highly unlikely.” I nuzzled against his neck laying a light kiss of my own against his slightly salty skin.
“Your mother.” He growled.
I pinched his side, hard. “Has no place on this trip.” I shut down his chastisement and instead hugged him. We fit together and under the sparkly lights everything seemed magical and like a fairytale.
“I don’t want to argue this weekend, please.” I pleaded.
“Don’t you think that’s kind of our thing now?” I knew Whit was joking but it wasn’t that funny.
“Sometimes I think you look for things to get riled up about. Like some caveman thing. What if I suggested we go zip-lining right now.” I gave him a pointed glare.
“On an empty stomach?”
I huffed. Was he serious or was he feeding into me. By the look on his face I thought he might be serious.
“There are twenty-four hour buffets on every corner and you’re going to complain about not eating before flying down Fremont Street?”
Whit flapped his arms looking less like my hot condor and more like a squawking pigeon stomping around the City of Sin. “Someone has to be the responsible adult here.”
Well, now.
