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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.
“Look who’s talkin’, Romeo.” I grunt, scanning my eyes down his similar outfit.
Diesel chuckles, grabbing his wallet and phone off his bed. “I’m the birthday boy. I gotta look fuckable.” He plasters on a wide, cheesy grin that causes me to snort.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go,” I say, getting my shit, then walking behind him out the door.
We find the meeting place for the tour bus, which is already booming with loud screaming and music. I’ve never seen anything like it and know tonight is definitely going to be one I’ll never forget.
“I think this is it,” Diesel says. “I call dibs on the bride-to-be.” He waggles his brows before stepping up the stairs.
“Oh my God.” I groan, following him. “Should’ve known this was a bad idea the second you blurted it out.”
He pats my back as soon as we’re on the bus, shoulder to shoulder with partygoers. “You’ll be thanking me, man. Guaranteed.”
“You guys showed up!” Summer shouts with a drink in her hand. She’s wearing an obnoxious crown and sash like last night, but this time, she has a pink boa around her neck.
“Wasn’t about to miss out on the bachelorette party.” I wink at Zoey, then push my way through the crowd and sit down next to her. The seats line the windows to give everyone a view of the pole in the middle. Diesel immediately helps himself to the fully stocked bar in the back.
“You’re aware a bachelorette party means girls only, right?” she teases, crossing her legs.
“Are you saying no boys allowed?”
“Not unless you’re the strippers,” Chelsea answers.
“Now that can be arranged…” Diesel stands and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“Sit your ass down,” I tell him, pulling on his arm. “We’ve all seen the show, and it’s not that impressive. Never has been.”
Zoey pulls back, giving me a look with her brows raised. “You’ve seen his strip show more than once?”
Diesel chuckles, not denying it.
“We grew up together. Just because the bastard’s finally legal doesn’t mean it’s his first time drinking or stripping. Alcohol makes him loose.”
“We’re also roommates,” Diesel says.
“Ahh…this is all making so much more sense.” Zoey laughs.
“Let me grab you a drink before we get to the club. What’s your poison?” I ask, making my way toward the bar. “No girly shit here, though.”
Zoey rolls her eyes at my accusation. “Good, because I like the hard stuff.”
I arch a brow. Interesting.
“Alright, I’ll get us some shots then. Get this party started for real.” I smirk, then walk up to the bartender and order. After he hands them over, I go back to Zoey and give her one.
“To a night we’ll never forget…” she says in a slow, seductive tone that alerts my dick to how close she is to me.
