AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Thirty-Eight
I got an idea,” Nick says, locking the door to the El Paso comedy condo. “Why don’t we go topless?”
I cup my hands over my chest. “Like Vegas showgirls?” Because that’s where we’re headed. Las Vegas.
He chuckles. “I’m talking about the Jeep. But I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”
“Totally. You in a diamond thong. Where do I sign up?” I say, giving my tush a little tap.
“Play your cards right...” Nick leaves me with a wink and begins dismantling the soft top.
We ride off into the desert on I-10 toward New Mexico. With the sun on our faces and the wind whipping through the Jeep, we cruise on singing Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now” at the top of our lungs.
“I’m having such a good time!” I shout over wind, road, and Freddie Mercury.
“What?” Nick yells back, lowering the volume.
“I said I’m having so much fun. I don’t want this tour to be over.”
He grins, hair dancing in the breeze. “It’s one for the books.”
“Maybe I should ride back with you in the Jeep,” I say, thinking that only six days ago the idea of going one more mile with this man was enough to make me want to take the wheel and careen us into a smoke shop.
“Don’t you need to get home?” he asks with his wrist resting at the top of the wheel.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I gaze out the window through my prescription sunglasses at the purple and red hues of the mountains up ahead—taller than the tallest skyscrapers in New York. Now that I’m beginning to confront my issues, I’ve got another challenge looming. “I need to find a new roommate and I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Just put an add on Craigslist that says smart, sexy, funny female looking to fill some space. You’ll break the server.”
“You forgot to mention dick pics welcome.”
He snaps his fingers. “Now you’re thinking.”
I’m not sure if what I’m about to ask is a good idea but it feels like it has potential. Like it could work. “Would you be interested? I’ve got a two-bedroom on the Upper East Side.” I sing the location, hoping it’ll entice him.
“Trust me. You don’t want to live with me.”
“I’ve practically been living with you for the past week and a half. I could do a lot worse than you.”
“You could do a lot better too,” he says, turning up the music and thus ending the conversation.
Okay, maybe asking a guy you’ve known for only a couple of weeks to move in comes off as borderline psycho but in my defense, Nick has something that a stranger from some roommate website doesn’t have—my trust. Unless Tom Hanks is on there looking for a room to rent (how can you not trust that guy?). Still, I try not to take his cavalier rejection too personally. Maybe I’m getting a little carried away. Caught up in a moment that isn’t meant to be carried back to New York.
The drive through Arizona and into Las Vegas is so breathtaking I hardly manage to get any work done. I totally recommend it. We arrive at our hotel near the top of the strip—the Isle of Riches Hotel and Casino. Surrounded by some of the most recognizable casinos, its dancing lights give it an amusement park vibe. And let’s be real, Las Vegas is nothing but an adult amusement park.
“Home sweet home,” Nick says while we wait in line. Warm chandeliers illuminate the square-patterned wall molding and golden hues of the carpet. Now this is a lobby. “You ready to hit the casino?”
“I think I’ve got about twenty dollars to spare,” I say.
He throws me a yikes expression. “Then we better play the penny slots.” Gambling with pennies sounds like my kinda game at the moment.
I rock on my heels, watching Vegas-goers as I wait to reach the reception desk. A couple not much older than Nick’s D.C. waitress friend practically float by smiling from ear to ear. The bride in a flapper-style white fringe dress and simple veil. The groom in a leather jacket not much different from Nick’s. I like the idea of a rebellious Vegas elopement. Especially with a guy like Nick. That’s when I look at him—smoldering dark eyes, cavalier hair, and dimples that make me blush. Even a fleeting thought of marrying him can mean only one thing.
I’ve got it bad. Real bad.
“What?” he asks, catching me staring.
“Nothing,” I say, faking it.
