CHAPTER 11 Cassie Fields
Turn Back the Clock
“Where have you been, Ms. Fields?” Jess demands as I let myself into the room we’re sharing. She’s sitting in bed scrolling her phone as she leans against the headboard, still in her pajamas.
I let out a sigh. “Only having the greatest night of my life.”
“Then what are you doing back here?”
I laugh and keep my tone light even though it feels heavy in my chest. “It was a hot hookup. Aren’t you supposed to leave when it’s over?”
“I guess. You doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, and even I don’t believe my own breezy tone as I walk over to the window. The view is different from this room despite the fact that only one other hotel stands between the Bellagio and the Aria. It was still a twenty-minute walk to find my way back to my own hotel room.
“Talk to me, Cassie,” she says. “It’s just us.”
I turn to face her, and I collapse on my bed as I stare up at the ceiling. “Okay, truth. I didn’t know men like him existed. He was just…God, he was everything. He was tender and gentle an d, at the same time, wild and forceful. He made me feel things I’ve never felt before. And he made me feel…I don’t know.” My cheeks burn as heat travels along my spine at the admission. “Desirable again. You know?”
She swings her legs over the bed so she’s facing me. “Of course I know. What your ex did…that was about him, not about you, babe. You know that, right?”
I nod. “I think I just needed last night as a reminder, though.”
“Can I have all the details now? Like how you met, his name…all the things? Because your text just said you found a hot hookup, and then you totally left me hanging. I was worried about you all night .”
“I’m sorry.” I sit up and face her. “And yes to the details. I was standing at the bar getting a margarita when he walked up beside me to order.”
She claps her hands together and squeals a little. “Oh my God, the meet cute!”
I roll my eyes. “Can you have a meet cute when it’s just a hookup?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Let me live vicariously through yours, okay?”
I chuckle. “Anyway, he ordered his drink, and the bartender said something like, ‘On the house for Grayson Nash,’ and I knew that name.”
“Grayson Nash? The football player?” Her brows draw together.
I nod. “Doesn’t he play for Vegas? So it makes sense why he was there.”
“Yeah, sure, but…” She trails off as she pulls a face that clearly says she already said too much.
“But what? Why’d he have a hotel room if he’s from Vegas?” I guess .
She shakes her head. “But…isn’t he married?” She whispers the question, but it isn’t any less of a slap in the face.
“What?” I gasp as a new realization hits me.
I was cheated on by my husband for over two years. I know how it feels to be the wife in that situation, and the fact that I might’ve been the other woman makes me feel sick to my stomach.
“And, yeah…like you said, why would he need a hotel room if he lives here?” she adds.
My stomach twists. “I don’t know.”
“Wait.” She grabs her phone and taps around for a few seconds, and then she flashes her phone at me. “Is this him?”
I study the picture, and there are definite similarities there, but no…that’s not my Grayson. I shake my head as something new slams into my chest.
He lied to me.
Oh my God.
If it wasn’t Grayson…who the hell did I sleep with?
I feel cheap. Gross. Used.
I sort of wish I could turn back the clock ten seconds. I wish I’d never told Jess his name.
Or if I’m wishing things, maybe I should be wishing that last night had never happened.
Except I can’t in good faith wish that. Maybe he wasn’t who I thought he was, but he still gave me a pretty magical night.
“That’s not him,” I whisper. “But someone who looks a lot like him.”
“Hm, there are a bunch of Nashes. Maybe you bagged a different one?” She’s tapping around on her phone again, and I don’t think I could take looking through photos of all the Nash brothers as I try to identify which one gave me an orgasm last night.
Multiple times .
You know…the one who brought me a pumpkin spice latte this morning. And muffins.
Heat pinches behind my eyes, and I don’t want Jess to see. I lift a shoulder a little weakly as I collapse back on the bed.
“Didn’t you just come from his hotel room? You should go back there and confront him. Ask him who the fuck he is!” Jess suggests, and I shake my head.
“I don’t think I want to know. I need to go shower.” I jump up and head to the bathroom, and I stand beneath the scalding water with a washcloth as I try to scrub away last night.
Is this always how people feel after a one-night stand? Because I feel dirty and disgusting even though I left his hotel feeling happy and hopeful less than a half hour ago.
It’s a fresh cut that’ll fade with time. I hope, anyway.
He gave me his number.
I could call him. I could ask him who he is.
Or I could just leave last night where it belongs.
I hear voices in the hotel room when I get out of the shower, and when I walk out in my towel, I find Jess talking with Katie and Natasha, who are both dressed and ready for the day. They all stop talking when they see me, and clearly Jess was giving them the lowdown on my night.
“There she is,” Katie says brightly, and she flips her blonde hair back over her shoulder.
“Did you have fun last night?” Natasha asks, and she snags her lip between her teeth as if she’s bracing herself for my answer.
“I had a great night,” I say. “I mean, Alex sure as shit never gave me three orgasms in one night.”
“Three?” Jess practically spits. “Is this dude some kind of magician or something?”
I laugh. “Must be. It was…enlightening. And now we have another day ahead of us.” I’m trying to toss the attention away fr om me. I’m worried if I keep talking, I’ll start crying, and nobody wants a crying Vegas Cass.
Cass .
Nobody calls me that. I’m Cassie to everyone, but I’m reminded of his voice rasping that nickname last night.
I know we had a deal, but fuck, Cass. I need to fuck you like I need to breathe right now.
An ache pulses between my legs as my stupid brain recalls the words.
I don’t want to recall the words. I want to push last night out of my head so I can enjoy the rest of this trip with my friends. I’m here to celebrate, and last night was just part of that celebration.
“Do you want to talk about last night?” Natasha asks gently.
I shake my head. “No. It was great, and now I’m embarrassed, and I think it’s safe to say I’m never sleeping with a random stranger again, so let’s go take on Vegas. I’m thinking a new Hermès handbag will cure just about anything.”
I realize my goal is to be financially independent, but considering the court is ordering Alex to pay me alimony, I have no qualms about spending that money on something nice for myself.
I force last night to the back of my mind as we shop, eat, and catch a show, and I’m spent when the show is over. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and while Vegas isn’t known as a place where you’re supposed to get a lot of sleep, I’m too tired to have any more fun. The girls walk me back to the hotel, and I head upstairs while they head toward the bar in the casino.
And once I’m finally alone, I allow the memory of last night out of the little box I put it in. I let myself remember what an absolutely incredible night it was, and I let myself feel a little measure of hatred for—and a whole lot of anger toward—the man who lied to me .
As we board the plane for home the next day, I make the conscious decision that I will leave that night behind me.
It was always the plan anyway. I just wish I could leave it there fondly rather than bitterly.