Staying in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 1)

Thinking about this morning—and especially last night—makes me feel even less okay about Rafe holding my hand right now, so I drop it. He’s very touchy-feely, which I definitely didn’t mind before, but it’s much less appropriate now that Sin and I are… whatever we are.

Sighing heavily, I let my bag of books slide to my elbow and use my now-free hand to dig out my phone. I’m not even used to having my phone again yet, but I check again to see if Sin has checked in.

Nothing.

Well, there’s a message from Carly, but nothing from Sin. I wonder if he’s even thinking about me while he’s working? On impulse, I stop walking and take one of my new books out of the bag, lowering it to the pavement. I snap a picture, then type out, “New books!!!” and pop a couple heart-eyed emojis onto my text.

Rafe stops me with a firm, “Who are you sending that to?”

I glance up at his imposing figure, basked in sunlight. Ugh, like I need another reminder that he’s attractive. I look down and go to push send, but he grabs the phone out of my hand.

“Hey!”

Checking my phone, he shakes his head. “You can’t send that to Carly.”

“Why can’t I?” I demand, standing and holding my hand out for my phone.

He ignores me and runs his finger across my screen, shaking his head like I’m an idiot before flashing me the screen. “Because your privacy settings are garbage and she can find out exactly where you are just by saving the picture and…” Since the picture is apparently worth a thousand words, he shows me the picture I just took, then swipes the screen and cocks an eyebrow at me.

Ooooh. It’s a literal map, pinpointing my current location.

“Now, either you’re technologically challenged, or you want your sister to find you,” he states. “Either way, I’m going to delete this.”

Shoving my book back in my bag, I stand and follow Rafe to the helicopter. He hasn’t given me my phone back yet, so I offer my hand palm-up. “May I have my phone back, please?”

“That depends, are you planning to send out any additional maps to my doorstep?” he asks, holding it, but not handing it to me.

“My sister already knows where you live,” I remind him, taking the damn thing and shoving it back in my purse.

“Yes, but since you’re supposed to be in Chicago with an imaginary Scottish friend and a made-up boy-toy, it’s probably best you refrain from sending evidence that you’re lying.”

“I didn’t think about my settings. I’m not used to being sneaky, okay? I’m not good at it.”

“Yes, I can see that,” he replies.

I’ve never been in a helicopter before, but this one is sleeker than I imagined. Jet black with red horizontal stripes and black leather interior. I climb onboard, sinking into one of the soft, upholstered seats. There are headsets hanging over the seats, but other than that, it looks like the back seat of a car. There are cup holders between the seats, two chilled bottles of water already inside them. Seeing there are enough seats to comfortably fit four people, I sort of wish Sin could have come with us. I have no idea if he would enjoy flying over the Grand Canyon, but I’d like him here anyway.

Rafe climbs in behind me, but instead of dropping into his own seat, he crouches down in the floor in front of mine. His dark eyes meet mine, a glint of playfulness shining on the surface, mischief tugging at his lips. “What do you think?”

Knowing he must have gone to a lot of trouble to arrange all this, and seeing the hint of eagerness on his face, I melt a little. I’ve been as friendly as I could all day, but I don’t know how to straddle this line. I don’t know how to be familiar with Rafe without feeling like I’m somehow wronging Sin. I know there’s nothing like a commitment between us, I even know logically I’ve only known Sin for a few days, but it feels like I’ve known him longer. We fit together effortlessly—and the jagged corners I’ve encountered fit nicely into custom notches that seem to open up to accommodate him.

Would I have ever envisioned myself in bed with a killer? No. But I’ve probably bedded two of them at this point.

It’s also hard to reconcile the light, teasing Rafe squatting here right now, waiting for me to be impressed by his grand gesture, with asshole Rafe who kicked me out of his house, or mob boss Rafe, who stood on hallowed ground in Chicago with a literal army of men backing him and his rise to power.

Sin was one of those men. I was blinded by Rafe then and I didn’t even notice him.

Rafe cocks an eyebrow since I still haven’t answered.

“I think this was very nice, thank you.”

“I take it this is your first time on a helicopter?”

I nod my head. “You guess correctly. Got any pro tips for me?”

Pointing upward, he says, “Those blades? Don’t get your head near them.”

Smacking my forehead theatrically, I tell him, “I’m glad you said that. I planned to poke my head out first thing.”