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“Go again,” he says, nudging me.
He’s grinning and enjoying himself. I turn back to my machine, getting lost in the noises for a little bit. I thought it would be more exciting, but I actually find gambling to be pretty boring. I mean, I barely understand the game that I’m playing and am just relying on it to tell me if I won or not. When the twenty dollars that Declan had first put in is gone, I turn to him, ready to leave, only to find him chatting with a few girls. One looks like she works here, but the other two are obviously tourists. They keep touching him, gushing about something, although I can’t quite make out what.
Doubt flares to life inside of me.
Is this how it’s always going to be—me, watching him get hit on, while I stand off to the side? It had killed me to watch Taylor and the bridesmaids do it last night, but I had assumed that it was just because he wanted to be close to me, so he was putting up with it.
That doesn’t feel like the case here.
He could have brushed them off or brought me into the conversation, but he didn’t.
Chloe and Taylor’s words from earlier float through my head. Why does he want me? Why would this hot, successful, pro NFL player want the chubby wallflower kindergarten teacher? I’m not skinny or drop dead gorgeous like any of the girls who’ve hit on him so far. I don’t have money or fame or even the desire for either of those things.
I’m debating if I should just leave when my phone buzzes on the side of the slot machine. I bend forward, swiping my finger across the screen.
Taylor:I can’t believe that you ditched me on my big weekend for some guy who just wanted to get laid on vacation.
The words hitme hard and I glance back at Declan. Is that what he’s doing? Did I fall for it?
I can feel tears threatening to spill over and panic clawing up my throat.
I take one last look at him and see that he’s still engrossed in conversation with the girls. Before he can spot me doing so, I slip from my chair and hurry out of the casino.
EIGHT
Declan
I nod,wondering how I can get these women to stop bothering me without coming off as being rude. They’ve been hovering around me, laughing too loud, and dragging their fingers over my arm for the past fifteen minutes.
I was having fun with Emma, watching her gamble for the first time. She had been enamored by the flashing lights and the screen. I’ll admit, I was a little jealous at first. I would do anything to have her staring at me that way. Preferably when both of us are naked.
“OMG! Remember last year, when you scored that touchdown during the game with the Saints!” One of the girls trills and I try not to wince when her voice hits a pitch so high that only dogs could hear it.
“Yeah,” I say, trying me best to turn back to my Emma and excuse myself from these women.
I glance over my shoulder and my whole body goes rigid when I see that the chair Emma was sitting in has now been taken by some older tourist.
I turn, ignoring the women as I stand from my seat and start to look for my wife.
She’s not in the area around our slot machines. Not that I can see, anyway. It’s late, so the casino is starting to fill up. It’s hard to spot everyone in the crowd. I pull out my phone, but I don’t see any missed calls or messages from her. There are two from my agent, wanting to know how to handle the news that I got married, but I ignore them.
She probably just ran to the bathroom.
I stand still, looking around for her curvy body and light blonde hair in the crowd. When she isn’t back in five minutes, I start to get worried.
I pull out my phone, hitting her name and impatiently listening as it rings and rings and rings. Her voicemail picks up and I let out a curse, my heart racing as I spin in another circle.
Where could she have gone? Why did she just leave without saying anything to me?
My mind flashes back to those girls fawning over me and my stomach sinks.
I jog out of the casino and down the sidewalk to the Luxor. She must have gone back to our room. My gut clenches as I think about her leaving upset. I never want to make her feel anything but happy.
I’m messing all of this up.
We’d been having such a great day. Laughing and getting to know each other. It had felt so natural, but I knew that she was a little self-conscious and was sensitive about her weight. Instead of telling those girls to get lost or to stop touching me, I had put their feelings ahead of my girl’s.
I shouldn’t have worried so much about coming off as rude to them. Not if the other option was hurting my Emma.
