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Wrinkling my nose, I disagree. “I have,” I say with an edge in my tone. How many times does a chance take?
Summer looks at me in the mirror. “Sorry, sis. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I just want you to have fun for the rest of the weekend and live in the moment during our girls’ trip. Worry about all of that when we get back to Phoenix.”
“Honestly, Benjamin’s the last person I want on my mind at the moment,” I admit.
“Because of the cowboys?” She waggles her brows.
I try to hold back any reaction but fail miserably when a hint of blush hits my cheek. “Cowboy. Singular. Chelsea has already claimed Diesel for herself.”
Summer lets out a loud cackle. “She better be glad I’m getting married, because…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence but instead looks off into the distance as if she’s living out her fantasy with him right now.
“Eww, stop.” I walk out of the bathroom and take a sip from one of the small bottles of vodka as I look out at the Las Vegas lights. I’m in awe as I stare at the busy streets and the sparkling buildings as the sun hangs low on the horizon. Riley comes to mind with his kind smile and witty banter, and I can’t help but wonder if they’re really joining us. I hope so. He’s the distraction I need and want tonight.
Summer grabs two small bottles of rum from the minibar and hands me one. We unscrew the tops, tap them together, and drink.
“Tonight, we’re gonna have so much fun.” She pulls me into a hug.
“I just hope fun doesn’t mean trouble,” I say, only half-joking as she grabs more booze and leads me out of the room to meet the rest of the bridal party waiting downstairs.
Chapter Five
Riley
Seeing Zoey this morning at brunch was a pleasant surprise, and I’m not complaining. Though we’d briefly seen each other last night, actually talking to her today was electric. Our banter was effortless, and she’s definitely not the shy type. Even though we’re only in Vegas for forty-eight hours, I want to see her again.
The moment they mentioned their plans later, I knew the chances of running into her again were slim. Until Diesel blurted out that we’d booked the barhopping bus too. I wasn’t sure if I should smack him for making us sound like stalkers or hug him for his genius idea. While our connection is strictly mutual attraction right now, I actually think she’s quite interesting. Even though we’d spent less than an hour together, I’m already addicted to hearing her laughter.
Once we separated ways, Diesel and I walked down the Strip, found a casino, and gambled for a few hours. After we lost a few hundred dollars of Diesel’s stripper winnings, we found other places to blow our money.
“I should get something for Rowan’s birthday,” I tell him as we arrive at a touristy souvenir shop. “Her birthday’s next month.”
“Yeah?” He pretends not to care, but he’s not fooling me.
“Maybe I should taunt her with some shot glasses,” I say with a snicker. She’s turning twenty and won’t be able to properly use them for another year.
“She’ll throw them at you for getting her a shitty gift.” Diesel deadpans.
“Good point. I’d rather not pick glass outta my face. T-shirt it is.” She’s always had a mild fascination with snow globes, so I look at those and grab one filled with glitter and displaying the famous Welcome to Las Vegas sign. Hopefully, she doesn’t chuck that at me.
Once we’re done shopping, we get more information about the drinking tour from the front desk, and somehow, Diesel sweet-talks the woman to get us added to the list.
“I don’t know how you did that,” I tell him, and all he does is grin.
“I just used my Southern charm. Works every time,” he says, handing me the itinerary listing all the clubs we’re supposed to visit. Guess we’ll be getting shit-faced again tonight.
We go back to the room, drop off our bags, and get ready for the evening before going to eat because we have to be out front by nine. As I change, the thought of seeing Zoey tonight has my nerves in overdrive. I picture what she wore last night at the strip club and how beautiful she looked this morning in her T-shirt and shorts. Her bronze blond hair was in a messy bun, and loose strands fell around her face. Without even trying, she looked incredible.
The navy blue button-up shirt, dark wash jeans, and dress boots is one of the nicest outfits I have. I typically wear it to church, so hopefully no one will give me shit for being a cowboy cliché tonight.
“Look at you, pretty boy,” Diesel taunts the moment I come out of the bathroom.
