Staying in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 1)

“Well, no, I don’t actually want lobster rolls, I just feel like being petty. He’s being such a dick tonight. And the other night. He’s just a dick in general, so I want to exercise financial retribution in the form of my dinner order.”

“You’re gonna have to order a lot of lobster rolls, in that case,” Sin advises.

I lift my hand from his thigh, turning to sweep a hand out toward the restaurant floor. “Lobster rolls for everyone.”

Smiling and shaking his head, Sin squeezes my side. “Quiet, you.”

Jayla’s voice suddenly gets louder, so I stop tuning her out to see why. The look on her face says she’s gazing at something adorable, but she’s looking at us. “You guys are the cutest couple I’ve ever seen,” she announces, hand to heart. “Seriously. Couple goals.”

Rafe rolls his eyes and mutters, “Oh, for the love of Christ.”

Swatting his arm, she says, “They are. I can’t handle it. This is exactly what I was talking about when I told my girl Becky to leave her asswipe boyfriend. I don’t care if they have two kids together. I said, Becky, those boys are going to look to you to see how a relationship should be, and if you let him treat you that way, that’s how they’re going to think women should be treated. You get the hell out of there and go find yourself a man who treats you the way you want those boys to treat their own women.”

I haven’t been listening to her story, but I actually agree with that advice, so I nod my head. “It sounds like you’re a good advice-giver, Jayla. I’ll make sure to reach out to you, should I ever need any.”

Leaning in to whisper in my ear, Sin asks, “Do you think she’d advise you to run if she knew I cuffed you to my bed every night?”

Glancing at Jayla in consideration, I shake my head. “Nah, Jayla’s a smart cookie; she’d probably just tell you to cuff my ankles too, really do the job right.”

His delivery is as dry as ever, but I think I detect a joke when he says, “She can’t be too smart; she’s here with Rafe, isn’t she?”

“Ha, nice,” I say, holding up my hand for a high five.

He takes my hand and pushes it back down to his thigh instead of returning the high five. I can’t find a reason to complain.

I know it’s a bad, bad, bad idea, but I hope this is a real date. I’m enjoying this burst of familiarity and affection. I know it can’t go anywhere long-term, but for all I know it’s a bad idea, I can’t help being tempted by the prospect of enjoying Sin while I’m here. A brief respite before I return to my boring life and the world of exceedingly average men.

The server comes over to take our drink and appetizer order. Jayla is still going over the drinks. She’s clearly friendly, because even though my past with Rafe must be unclear to her with all the arm-grabbing and intense whispers, she still talks to me like we’re pals. I love that. This could be weird—I mean, it is weird, but it could be worse. She could be catty on top of Rafe being an asshole.

I can’t help noticing Rafe doesn’t order for her, though. Ordering for a woman who is out with you probably isn’t a normal thing to expect, but he did order for me when Vince and Carly were here with us. Carly rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might fall out of her head, but I didn’t mind it. It actually struck me as sort of sexy. Being as attentive as he is, he didn’t order anything I didn’t want, and I liked the way he took charge. I understand not everyone would feel the same way, though. Maybe he has already tried that with Jayla and she wasn’t into it… or maybe he just doesn’t care to. Does that mean he liked me more

? What is it that determines whether or not he orders for a woman or lets her do it herself?

He catches me looking at him as I ruminate on his ordering habits and I curse myself. Of course I see the faint upward climb of his smug, stupid mouth. Now he surely thinks I’m over here thinking about him. Which I guess I was, but in an academic way, not in any other way.

I wish I could correct his assumption without coming off as ultra-defensive, but I can’t. Oh well. It doesn’t really matter what he thinks. I’ll be out of Sin City before long and I’ll never step foot in Nevada again. Rafe Morelli is irrelevant to my life.

“And a Limoncello cocktail for you, right?” the server asks, glancing at me.

My jaw drops open. It’s the same server who waited on us before, but it’s been two whole months since I came here with Rafe; surely he’s brought dozens more girls in since. “You remember my order?”

She taps her head. “Steel trap.”

“I am impressed. But no, just water for me tonight, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” Jayla says, leaning forward. “Have a drink with me. We’re gonna hit the club after this. I don’t know about you, but I believe I dance better drunk, and if I believe it, it must be true.”

Cracking a smile, Rafe says, “Yes, that’s Laurel’s philosophy as well.”

Meeting Rafe’s gaze, I ask, “Does anyone ever just walk up to you and punch you in the face? They should.”

“No one would dare,” he informs me.

“I would,” I tell him.

“You should,” he says. “I’d love a reason to sic Sin on you.”

“Ooh, so would I,” I tell him. “That sounds sexy.”