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“You don’t have any family members in here, though, right?”
He leaned down as we waited at the lights to cross the street. “Where possible, we try not to fuck with the mob,” he muttered, though I was almost sure the lady standing beside us took a step back. “We’re two very different entities.”
Well, I guess you learn something every day.
Thankfully, he seemed to find it more amusing than offensive.
When we reached the front of the building, a few people strolled past us, complete with side-eye at Drake’s club colors, but as he moved for the stairs to head inside, I grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “We aren’t going in.”
His brow scrunched together, and he looked over at me. “Then what are we doing?”
I pointed to the building.
I’d done my research, trying to find some kind of historical places in Las Vegas, and let me tell you, there wasn’t a lot. Apparently, it made sense that Drake’s business had boomed here because they were well known for demolishing and building new as opposed to a lot of other cities who liked to preserve their historic buildings.
“I just want you to tell me about it.”
He was still confused as we both looked back up at the building, but I guess somewhere in there he trusted me, and he started talking. “It’s called Neoclassical architecture.” He scanned the building, taking it in. “It’s very square with a flat roof and often has these arches or large columns. You see these types of buildings more so in places like Washington, D.C. because they were really popular during the revolution when our government was being created.”
I leaned into his side, feeling like I could stand there forever and listen to him talk. Drake was intelligent. He wasn’t just some sexy face they decided to put at the front of the company. I’d learned just by spending time with him, listening to him talk to people, that he knew what he was talking about. And he loved it too.
“It’s meant to resemble ancient Greece and Rome,” he continued, pointing out the curved openings. “Our government took a lot of inspiration from other foreign governments they had back then, and then decided to pay respect to that when they chose the types of buildings they wanted to be important. Like the White House, the Capitol Building, and the Supreme Court.”
I stepped forward and turned around to face him, unable to keep from smiling. “If someone gave this to you and said, hey, you can have free reign, demolish it, renovate it, whatever, what would you do?”
He scoffed and shook his head. “Definitely not fucking demolish it. Buildings like this, they need to be restored so people can enjoy them. It’s one of the reasons I’ve started looking for more business in Boston. Vegas doesn’t have a lot of places like this that are a part of history. In Boston, it’s everywhere, and the opportunities are more available… more exciting.”
I could feel it in the way he spoke. This business for him, it wasn’t just about making business deals and keeping the cash rolling in.
It was more.
So damn much more.
“So why aren’t you in Boston?” I questioned, and he instantly began to laugh.
“That’s what this is?” he questioned, shaking his head as he continued to grin. “It’s more complicated than you think.”
I stepped forward, pressing my body against his and reaching for his face and the bristles he hadn’t shaved off this morning. Businessman Drake shaves them every day before he goes into the office, but biker Drake lets them grow a little longer.
I loved both.
I reached up on my tiptoes, sliding my hands up around his neck and pressing my fingers into his hair. His arms circled my waist, holding me tight against his chest. “Not everyone has passion.” The words fell from my mouth, words I’d been hearing in my head since the night I met him. Words that hit me harder than I think even I realized.His words.“People can get excited about things, but passion is soul-consuming.”
“Cassie…”
I brushed my lips over his. “Someone told me once that if that’s how you feel about something, fuck everything and anything that gets in your way.”
If he wanted me to stop, he had the perfect opportunity to toss me onto the concrete, but he didn’t. Instead, he sucked in a deep breath and took my hand, leading me over to a bench facing the front of the building. We sat down, and I instantly turned my body toward him while he looked out at the magnificent piece of architecture in front of us.
“I hear you.”
“But…”
He took a deep breath and told me about his mom.
How she didn’t feel connected to the club.
How his dad tried everything, but it was no use.
