Moe Rivas has spent her whole life waiting for the perfect storybook romance, but as she approaches her senior year of college -- single, and incredibly disappointed with the male species -- she decides she's sick of daydreaming. Turning her back on...
"Trinity will be here in about twenty minutes, so don't fall asleep," Theo informed my uncle, which spurred a dozen follow-up questions and exclamations from Ian. "Cash is on the kitchen counter."
Jay saluted us. "Have fun, kids. Don't throw up in the pool."
"And don't use the cancer card for a free lap dance," I shot back, knowing the geezer already had a speech prepared. "This is her job. Respect it."
He frowned. "Taking advantage of people's sympathy is the only benefit of dying, Roe."
I sent Theo a pained glance. "Maybe you should stay. I think he might require adult supervision."
But my drunken companion just laughed and dragged me out the door.
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As we stepped into the cool evening air, I paused to absorb the beautiful, wallet-leeching setting.
Across the rooftop, pink, orange, and turquoise lights illuminated the swirls of glowing water carved into the concrete. Hotel casinos towered above us, reflecting the massive digital advertisements along the Strip, and in the distance, a city of golden flecks and brake lights collided with the darkness overhead. It was just as glitzy as I expected, but it also felt like a galaxy of blinking stars and dazzling auroras, and my fingers itched for my camera.
Thankfully, it was also the quietest place we'd visited all day. As we'd predicted, the chaise lounge chairs lay empty, along with the bar seats. And only a handful of people occupied the hot tubs.
I sighed at the serenity of it all, breathing in the chlorine and a tinge of marijuana.
Finally, something that resembles a vacation.
Theo and I wandered over to the heated pool closest to the glass parapet, and as he dropped into the shallow end, I shyly pulled off my shirt. The alcohol must have been wearing off a little, because I hadn't batted an eye during his swimsuit adjustment, but the way he was looking at me now sent all my blood to my face.
"What?" I murmured, descending the stairs into lukewarm water.
He greeted me with a kiss on my fourth step, and I giggled against his lips. It was a wet kiss, and a hungry one. I could tell he'd been waiting for this all day, and it put a warm, gooey feeling in my belly.
He pulled me further into the pool, his arms snug around my waist, and I moaned quietly into his mouth. I'd forgotten how fun drunk kisses could be—a little sloppy, a little tingly, and all reservations forgotten while the world spins at a faster, more dizzying pace.
We separated to catch our breaths, and I peeked behind me at the people in the hot tub, realizing just how few inhibitions I'd retained. This level of PDA would've had the old me shriveling with bitterness and disgust, and yet, I couldn't find it in me to feel embarrassed. I'd spent too many years as the bystander, and I'd finally found a hot guy to parade around. I was going to bask in this, dammit!
