Screwed In Sin City

Usually, I don't even get myself a hotel room, choosing to make the two-hour drive back to my place. But that night, knowing that we had back-to-back shows and that I would just have to drive all the way back into Las Vegas again, I'd chosen to splurge and get myself a room at the Bermuda. It was off the Strip, away from the bulk of the noise, and almost everyone who frequented the place at this time of year were snowbirds and easily over the age of sixty. I cherished the quietness of it, and the vast contrast of its surroundings in comparison to the craziness of the Excalibur.

That said, the damn place might as well have exploded into chaos the moment I recognized Josie as the girl with the alluring eyes from the night before.

I'm not a man who believes in fate, but there was no way that I couldn't at least run with that coincidence and see what happened.

And what happened was that you fucked up the entire thing by being an asshole. Wow, my own mind isn't even going to cut me a break.

Before I lower myself into the lawn chair set up at the corner of my balcony, I pull my phone out from my back pocket. I sit down, tossing my legs up onto the railing. It takes me eight minutes and numerous sips of my coffee before I realize that the texts I'm sending to Josie and deleting immediately after I type them out are nothing but empty words and a lame attempt at just being able to hear her voice. I want her to call me, just she won’t.

Last night, late after I got home from the thing I had to do that prevented me from staying with Josie after our evening together, I found a text sitting on my phone from an unknown number. It was short and sweet.

It’s Josie. We should talk.

That's it. But it was a start, and I was relieved to see the words from her. I wrote back the only thing I could think of at that time.

We should. I'm just not sure where to start.

Her reply came quickly. Too quickly.

How about with whatever it is you're not telling me.

The tone of her text bristled my defenses then, and all I could manage to respond with was:

When you show up to the show on Sunday night. Not before.

It was prickish, and low. But, damn it, I want her at that show. And the flicker of intrigue that had been in her eyes when I’d mentioned it told me she wanted to be there, too. This show would be different from the first one she'd attended, especially since she would be getting the VIP special, which included a whole lot of me. Not just during the show, but backstage, too, if I could just reason with her. I’d make damn sure she enjoyed it.

But first, she needs to show up. Now, sitting here staring out over the city in front of me, just beginning to awaken and prepare to take on the day, I close my eyes and hope she understands just how much I want her to be there tomorrow night. How much I want to not only pick up where we left off, but also make up for the stupid things I'd said and done in a moment of overprotectiveness and…fear.

It's in my nature, to protect and to defend, but there is also one more thing in my nature—to conquer. And I will conquer Josie. I've already begun to, and she doesn't even realize it yet.

9

Josie

I want to hate him, I really do.

When you show up to the show on Sunday night. Not before.

But when I read that, it's myself I hate more. Because I know that statement alone holds enough power to make me drag my sulking ass back to the Excalibur, heartbreak be damned.

Which is exactly why I texted him back and told him that I'd be there. I’d at least had the restraint to wait until this morning to send it, and to demand that we would talk when I got there, but, knowing what little I do about Derek, he probably already knew, even before my confirmation, that I’d be there.

That makes me want to hate him, too, even if I'm to blame for it as well.

Besides, can it really be considered heartache when you barely know the person?

According to Beth, who had shown up yesterday morning, only to find me doing my best to keep what’s happened from her and failing miserably, she seemed to think that heartbreak was exactly what was ailing me. Immediately, she advised me, “Casual is something you've never done before. You've never let yourself go in that direction. So, yeah, Josie, I do think there's something a little more going on, and maybe something a little bit more seductively sinister, than just wanting a simple one-night stand in Las Vegas.”

God, she always had to be so dramatic. Immediately, I regretted confiding any of it to her. She’d just been trying to help, but there was no help for me now, not when it came to Derek.

I'd made a mistake—a big one. I had let myself get wrapped up in the bright lights and big city, and the glint that I'd only ever seen in his smoldering eyes. It was just for a moment, but for that night, he’d had me. Owned me. And I’d loved it.

Even now, I know that one night with Derek was a mistake, and I also know that I'm making another one just by being here now, in the Excalibur. I’m floored by the fact that Beth even let me come alone, but the hopeless romantic in her must have reared its ugly head, because she’d been going gaga over the fact that he'd been so persistent in wanting me here again.

While I didn't see the romantic aspect of showing up to what I considered to be nothing more than a stripper show, I couldn't deny that being here with hi

m so close held its own allure.