As much as I didn’t want to find any value in what he’d said, he was probably right about one thing. Sage was in a sensitive spot right now. She wanted fun and adventure, and maybe that was making her less than choosy about her companion for such. I’d come along on this trip not by her choice. Maybe the hot tub adventure had been about proximity more than the boiling over of repressed sexual desire.
She was a virgin, after all. She had to be boiling so hard that she was capable of setting herself aflame. That didn’t mean she was boiling specifically for me.
Sage deserved more credit, and so did I. Just because I wanted Sage for reasons that extended beyond this trip, didn’t mean the opposite was true. I wasn’t fully certain what all those reasons were yet or when exactly they’d taken root. But perhaps it didn’t matter.
What happened in Vegas might stay in Vegas. And that was a game I didn’t intend to play.
7
Sage
Oliver was barely speaking to me. I didn’t even think it had to do with Celine. I’d caught him bobbing his head and humming under his breath during her show—which had been fan-fucking-fabulous, thank you very much, and screw you, swear gallon. But he was quiet during our post-show nightcap at a martini bar in our hotel, and I compensated by trying some of the mixed drinks off the menu.
Some being four.
He sipped one whiskey throughout, eyeing me placidly as I sampled my cares away. By the time we left, I was leaning heavily on his arm and giggling loudly enough to catch the eye of more than a few of the patrons.
Eh, whatever. This partying thing was new to me. It took practice to get right.
“Did you know I’ve never actually been drunk?” I asked as we entered the casino. We’d discussed that earlier—I thought—but I didn’t know if he remembered.
It was a miracle I remembered, never mind him.
“What do you call what you are right now?”
“Hmm.” I had to ponder that. It seemed to take a while. “Buzzed?”
“If that’s you with just a buzz, the idea of you fully drunk is a frightening prospect.”
“You’ll get to see,” I said cheerfully. “I intend to get wasted tonight.”
He gripped my elbow and propelled me forward. “You can,” he said against my ear, “because I’m here to keep you safe.”
The words created another kind of buzz in my chest, soft and warm like a handful of fireflies swarming around in the summer. The feminist side of me wanted to declare I could keep myself safe just fine, but right now, I was quite happy to let him take the lead on that so I could have fun.
“I appreciate that,” I said a little mistily as I smiled up at him. He was so handsome despite sometimes being a jackass. I also enjoyed his penis. “I spend too much time worrying, you know? So, I’m not going to do that anymore. This is me being wild and free.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. What do you want to play?”
“Everything.”
I was pretty sure I heard him sigh. “Somehow I guessed that would be your answer. Okay, new question. What do you want to start with?”
Turning my head, I widened my eyes. “Whoa, so much to see. Can we look around a bit first? Get the lay of the land. Like I want to get laid.” For some reason, that struck me as hysterically funny.
Now he definitely sighed. “C’mon then.”
I gripped his sleeve as he navigated through the crowds of people clustered around tables and machines. Lights and noise assailed my senses, pinging around in my dizzy head like pinballs set on scatter. So much to take in at once. I didn’t know where to go or what game I wanted to play. I wanted to get the full experience. Oh, and free drinks!
Without slowing down, I grabbed a pretty red drink off a passing tray and Oliver shook his head as I downed half of it in one go. It went right to my head. Cranberry. Yum.
“Wonder what this is?” I stared at my drink with appreciation. “So yummy.”
“Let me try it.”
“Okay.” I took a sip and held it in my mouth as I reached up and seized hold of his jacket to drag him down to my level. His dark pupils flared for an instant before our mouths connected, and I somewhat sloppily transferred the beverage. And sucked on his tongue for good measure.
He made a strangled noise and moved back, running his hand over his lips. He was saying something, but I wasn’t listening.