Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
RHETT
She trailed behind me as we made our way out of the club, where a line of people were waiting to get in. As we stepped into the cool night air, all I could think about was the need to get this woman alone.
There were street performers and entertainers on every corner as we strolled down the Strip. A surge of anticipation buzzed inside me with each step closer we got to my hotel.
Natalie squeezed my hand, smiling the entire time, but I could sense something was off. We were two blocks away when her steps slowed, coming to a complete stop. “Theo, wait.”
I stilled, and my gaze went to where she was trying to pull her hand away. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m so sorry.” She sounded visibly upset as she turned her head away from me. “I don’t think I can do this.”
I let go of her hand and searched her face for a clue on why she just did a one-eighty. “It’s okay, but do you mind telling me why the change of heart? Be honest with me. Did I do or say something that made you change your mind?”
Was I walking too fast? Trying too hard?
“No.” She hesitated, looking torn on whether she should take my hand back or tell me to fuck off. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
My chest deflated because that was the worst possible thing she could say. Well, not the worst, but you know what I mean. “Are you sure I wasn’t forcing things along?”
She shook her head. “Trust me, you’ve done everything right. I’m just nervous. I’m fresh out of a long-term relationship, and this is so out of character for me. I’m sorry.”
The woman was so damn adorable.
“We don’t have to do anything,” I assured her, not liking how she seemed flighty all of a sudden.
“Yeah, right.”
I pinched my eyebrows together. “I’m serious.”
What kind of guy did she take me for? I meant what I said. I would be perfectly comfortable just spending time with her. Disappointed? Sure, but I’d get over it. I could find a hookup anytime or place I wanted, but I didn’t want that with anyone but her at the moment. If time was all we had, I’d take it.
“Come on, you expect me to believe that?”
“Of course I do.” I flashed her a smile, trying to get her to relax. “Now, are you really going to let me walk back to my hotel by myself?”
“You’ll be fine.”
“I could get mugged or murdered.”
She looked me up and down. “You look like you can take care of yourself.”
“What if I trip and fall and crack my head open?”
That was stupid and lame, but my head was spinning with alcohol. Not to mention, it dawned on me how our roles seemed to be reversed.
Normally, I was smooth with the ladies and had them eating out of my palm. With blondie, I felt like a lap dog begging for attention. This was so not cool.
“Let’s go have a drink somewhere, please?” I dropped to my knees like a panhandler, begging for scraps. If there were paparazzi nearby with cameras, the guys would never let me live this down.
“What are you doing?” she whisper-shouted while frantically looking around.
“What does it look like? I’m pleading for a second more of your time.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are being dramatic.”
“I’m trying to be persuasive.”
“Get up.” She looked like she was one second away from wringing my neck. “People are starting to stare.”
“Not until you agree to one drink with me.”
“You are impossible.” She gave me a swat on the shoulder. “Fine, now get up.”
I took advantage of her outstretched hand and pulled myself off the ground. “See, was that so hard?” I asked, dusting my jeans off.
“Yes,” she said, fighting a smile.
“Admit it. You find me charming.” I bumped my shoulder into hers.
“Actually,” she tilted her head to the side, “you seem a little high maintenance to me.”
My mouth popped open at her playful jab. “Take that back.” I poked her in the rib. “And for your information, I am low maintenance to the core, missy.”
“Is that why I caught you fussing with your hair for ten minutes while looking at yourself in your phone camera when I was texting with my friends? ”
I couldn’t deny her observation, but in my defense, I was trying to look my best.
“You know, I barely know you, and you’ve insulted me more times tonight than in my short thirty-one years on this planet.”
“Ew, you’re thirty-one? That’s old.”
What. The. Fuck.
I stopped walking and shook my head when she broke out in a fit of giggles. “And just how old are you, young lady?”
“Old enough to know that you’re trouble. Come on,” she huffed. “I owe you a drink for helping me out earlier.”
If she thought she was paying, she had another thing coming.
It was almost one in the morning, but the Strip was still full of life. I gently ushered her through the spinning doors of the first casino we happened upon.
I surveyed our options for themed bars and restaurants. There was a rowdy sports bar in the middle of the casino and a quiet lounge upstairs on the second level. There was no way in hell I was going to a sports bar.
“Are you okay with something a little more quiet and chill?” I asked over the whirl of slot machines in the background. It was hard to hear over the whooping and shouting. Some were celebrating wins, while others were moaning over their losses.
“Sure.”
Thank God.
Natalie and I navigated through the sea of flashing lights and blackjack tables, trying not to inhale all the cigarette smoke. The lounge was packed, and almost every table was taken. We found a cozy booth off to the side, away from the chaos .
There was a live band playing jazz, which was not my favorite, but then again, I wasn’t here for the music.
“How long are you and your girls in Vegas for?” I asked as the server set our drinks down.
She ran her finger over the rim of her glass. “This is our last night.”
“Nice.” I pushed a napkin her way so she could set it under her glass. “Have you guys been having fun lighting up the town?”
She swallowed. “It’s been a blast. The three of us needed this time together.”
“What’s the deal with you and the two sisters anyway?”
She tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Well, the whole reason why we’re sitting here is because you had to put on a show for them?”
She winced. “Yeah, I recently went through a messy breakup, and they are afraid I won’t be able to move on from it.”
That’s what I figured.
“What did he do?”
She glanced down at the floor, looking uncomfortable. “He got another girl pregnant while we were together.”
“He’s a fucking moron,” I said, feeling pissed off on her behalf.
She dragged her gaze back up to mine. “That’s too nice of a word for him.”
“I hope you wrote him off for good.” My jaw ticked. I didn’t know the guy, but he sounded like a dumbass.
“As much as I can. Our best friends are getting married next month, so we have to put our differences aside and try to save face. It’s going to be hard because he’s bringing the pregnant girlfriend, which means I’ll have to sit through the ceremony and the reception, watching the two of them, all the while enduring all the pity stares and whispered comments.”
“That sounds horrible.” I flagged the hostess over. “Bring us a bottle of tequila and a couple shot glasses, please.”
Natalie raised her brows. “Are you ready to hold my hair back over the toilet bowl later when I’m puking my brains out?”
“Is that your subtle way of saying you plan on spending the night with me?”
Her laugh floated across the table. “I would need to get to know you better first.”
“Go ahead and ask me anything,” I told her while pouring the tequila into the two shot glasses.
“Why are you still single?”
I set the bottle down and tilted my head to the side. “That’s your first question?”
She leaned forward, steepling her hands under her chin. “Yes, a guy who runs a shelter for single moms and helps women convince their friends that they're into each other. Theo, you're a great catch, but something seems off here.”
“The work I do for the charity is nothing special,” I told her, feeling slightly awkward and really fucking guilty.
I was starting to regret telling her that. And it felt weird hearing my real name come from her mouth.
“You’re modest too and still haven’t answered my question, so spill the beans.”
“Maybe I’m just waiting for someone to keep up with me,” I teased.
She raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”
I leaned against the booth so I could stretch my legs out. I loved that she wasn’t trying to play games or use me for bragging rights. She had no idea who I was, and something told me she wouldn’t care if she did.
“The truth is, my mother would be thrilled if I got married. In fact, she already has a willing prospect waiting for me when I decide to settle down.”
She snatched her glass up and threw it back. “Sounds eighteenth century-ish.”
I held her gaze. “My parents are very loving and supportive, but they are also old-fashioned. They expect certain things of me, and because of the pressure, I’ve rebelled a bit.”
She sat up in her seat. “Finally, the conversation is getting interesting. Tell me more.”
I chuckled. “My mom is afraid I’m going to die a lonely old man, and my dad is afraid that he failed me somehow as a parent. There were expectations of me growing up and a career path all laid out for me. Let’s just say I was supposed to stay to the right, and I went as far left as I could possibly go.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Are we talking politics now?”
I laughed while staring at my drink. “Honey, I was born into politics, and I’ve been running away from it my entire life.”
“In that case, we can talk about something else.”
I wasn’t expecting this conversation to get so heavy. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making me so chatty.
“That’s fine,” I said, reaching for my shot glass. “I always said that the only way I would get married was if my life depended on it. The thought of commitment and settling down with one person scares me. My friends think I have Peter Pan Syndrome and am afraid of growing up.”
She made a sour face. “Please don’t tell me you still live with your parents. ”
“You got something against thirty-something-year-old guys who live in their mom’s basement playing Call of Duty .”
She tipped her glass at me. “Yes, because Grand Theft Auto is way cooler.”
An impressed smile ghosted my lips. “For the record, I don’t still live at home with my parents.”
“Thank God for that.” She breathed out a dramatic sigh. “Have you ever tried telling your mom that you’re not interested?”
A light chuckle fell from my lips. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“Isn’t it always?”
We sat in silence for a minute, and I allowed my eyes to track over her face. She had the prettiest blue eyes, a cute little button nose, and lips so full and shiny with lip gloss that I was dying to kiss off of her.
“So, Natalie, what do you do for a living?” I asked, resting my hands along the back of the booth.
She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just finished grad school.”
“Grad school?” I lifted a brow. I knew she looked a little on the younger side, but I didn’t realize she was that young. “That makes you how old?”
“Twenty-six. I started a couple of years later.”
“Why is that?” I sipped my Patron, feeling less like a dirty old man. Five years wasn’t so bad.
She sighed. “Because I was stupid and in love and wanted to support my boyfriend.”
“And he paid you back by cheating on you?”
“Yes, now do you see why my life is such a mess? Not to mention, I start my new job on Monday. This is supposed to be my fresh start, and instead of looking forward to it, I have to worry about sitting across from my ex and the woman he betrayed me with and pretend everything is totally fine.”
“Sweetheart, if you think your life is messed up, try walking in my shoes. My mother probably already has my wedding venue picked out. She won’t get off my damn back. She will find me a wife one way or another because, apparently, my parents don’t think I can handle life on my own. The pressure they put on me stresses me out.”
She clinked her glass with mine. “I say we get drunk and forget about all our problems.”
I raised a brow. “Do you think getting drunk with me is smart?”
She leaned forward, and my gaze immediately dropped to her cleavage. I forced my eyes upward before I got myself in trouble. “Probably not, but what’s the point of being in Vegas if you don’t make at least one bad decision?”
Natalie and I spent the next few hours talking and laughing. As the night went on, every joke became funnier, and every story became more interesting. The drinks were flowing, and all the stress and tension I felt about the offseason melted away. An obvious connection was growing between us, and maybe it was the alcohol, but it felt like we were destined to meet.
There was a good chance I wasn’t thinking straight, or maybe I was just overthinking, but I was picturing the two of us together. Her sitting by my side at family dinners and cheering me on at games. Spending time with her was fun, but what brought it home to me was how easily I opened up to her about personal things I didn’t share with anyone.
I was being impulsive and ignoring the ringing bells in my head. Usually, I would take a step back and allow my brain to slow down, but it felt like the universe knew something I didn’t.