CHAPTER 23 Ainsley Bradley
Drunker than I Realized
It’s admittedly very fun having Ivy here, but I was expecting to wake up beside Dex this morning.
It was also admittedly nice having the morning off and sleeping in. I take a quick shower and find Dex in the kitchen.
“Where’s the birthday girl?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Haven’t seen her. Probably still sleeping.”
“Should we talk about that kiss last night?” I ask, my voice low just in case she’s up.
His eyes meet mine for a few heated seconds, and just when he opens his mouth to say something, we both hear Ivy’s door open.
His jaw clamps shut, but before she walks into the room, he whispers, “I want to do it again.”
My face is as red as a tomato when Ivy walks in, but I do my best to pretend everything is completely fine as I yell, “Happy birthday!”
I rush over to toss my arms around her, and she laughs.
“Happy birthday, little sis,” Dex says to her, mussing her hair, and she rolls her eyes as she runs her hand over it to smooth it out.
“When do I get to meet my nephew?” Ivy asks.
“Tomorrow, probably.” And then he surprises the hell out of me by saying, “I ordered breakfast about a half hour ago, so it should be here any minute. And for your birthday gift, I booked you two deluxe spa treatments for the day, the salon after, a personal stylist, and reservations at one of the hottest new restaurants in town. Go out, live it up, have some Vegas-style fun.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“I’ve got Jack,” he says. “All day, and night, too. You two go out. I’ll get him from my coach’s place in a bit, and we’ll have a boys’ day. I only have a few days left until camp, and then I’ll be out of town for two weeks. I have to get in my time while I can.”
I can’t tell if he’s trying to get rid of me, get rid of his sister, or if he genuinely wants to spend time with his son now that he has all the facts.
The hopeful part of me wants it to be option three. The cynical part of me thinks it’s option one.
But there’s something else he said that’s news to me.
“Wait…what?” I ask. “What’s this about two weeks?”
“I didn’t tell you?” he asks.
“Didn’t tell me you’ll be gone for two weeks? Yeah, no. That didn’t make it into our conversation,” I say. “Where are you going?”
“I’m sorry. I thought everyone knew. The entire Aces organization travels to California for the first two weeks of training camp.”
“So you leave Monday?” I ask flatly.
“Yeah. Is that okay?” he asks.
“I mean…do I have a choice other than for it to be okay?” I know I sound a bit whiny, but so far, while I’ve taken on the majority of the work with the baby, I haven’t taken on all of it. Dex is still here to help and give me time off.
But he won’t be around for two entire weeks, and then his season will be underway, and I have no idea what to expect as we head into that.
“Sorry,” he says again. “I really thought you knew.”
I don’t argue because maybe it is common knowledge that just didn’t make its way to me, yet he still glances over at me. In a quiet voice, he says, “Everyone deserves a day off once in a while. And with me heading out for camp, I figured this was a good time to do it.”
I press my lips together. “Thanks, Dex,” I finally say. “That was really nice of you. You and Jack today…you got this.”
He smiles and nods. “I know I do. I’ve been watching you for the last three weeks. And I ordered those peepee teepees, so I’m all set.”
“Peepee teepee?” Ivy repeats.
“Long story,” I say with a giggle.
“Oh, did you two see this?” Ivy asks. She flashes her phone at us and reads the headline aloud as we follow along with her. “Aces DE Dex Bradley No Longer Single.”
Dex raises his brows, and his phone starts to ring before he says anything. “Excuse me.”
He spends the next hour on the phone, presumably fielding calls about being married, and he has his publicist issue a statement. I guess this is what happens when we decide to go live with our news at a charity event.
He’s still dealing with all that after breakfast when it’s time for Ivy and me to make our way to our first appointment of the day.
A short while later, I find myself relaxing at the spa with a mask on my face next to Ivy, who just finished her facial. Up next is our ninety-minute Swedish massage, and then manis and pedis. It’s been a dream of a day already, and it’s been fun having Ivy here as we catch up on lost time.
But the fact that he’s going to leave in a few days for two entire weeks and it’s just going to be me and his baby alone in his penthouse feels like it’s looming over me.
He admitted this morning he wants to kiss me again. I can still feel his lips on mine. Still feel his hips as they thrust against me. Still feel his hard cock as it pressed against my hip through his pants.
God, I want him.
And the one person I usually talk to about stuff like this can never, ever know.
Dex thought of everything, and after our massages, we head to the salon next to the spa to get our hair and makeup done for a night out. He even sent a personal shopper to greet us at the salon and get our sizes, and she returns an hour later with different clothing options for our night.
I settle on a purple sequin minidress that’s slightly shorter than I usually opt for, and the birthday girl picks out an edgy corset-style top with a leather skirt.
Our styles feel different and totally Vegas at the same time, and the car from Dex’s complex is waiting to take us to dinner once we’re ready. When we get inside, it’s packed, and our table isn’t quite ready, so we head to the bar.
“Vodka Sprite, extra cherries,” I say to the bartender.
“Make it two,” Ivy says.
“ID,” the bartender says, and we both hand over our licenses. “Happy birthday,” he says to Ivy, and what better place than Vegas to spend a twenty-first birthday?
Our drinks arrive, and they’re strong, and we’re hungry.
They go down quickly—mainly so we can get to those cherries that sank to the bottom—and our table is ready just as we each grab a second.
By the time dinner is over nearly two hours later and our server lets us know the bill has been paid by Dex Bradley, I’m on my fourth and so is Ivy. As two women in their early twenties who rarely drink, we’re both feeling it. Hard.
We head to a nightclub in the same hotel as the restaurant next since Dex told us to live it up Vegas-style, and I can’t help wondering how he’s doing with Jack.
He hasn’t called me all day, and though I’ve thought about texting him, I also want him to rest assured that he’s capable.
I don’t want him to feel like I’m checking up on him.
But I sort of want to check up on him…because I miss him. I’m not sure when he became my friend in all this, but somehow, he did.
My thoughts are jumbled, and when I take my phone out to try to send him a text, I have to close one eye to focus. I’m not quite sure what it says when I hit send, but I think it says something along the lines of hey, just checking in!
Ivy and I hit the dance floor and proceed to start to attempt to sweat off some of the alcohol. My phone rings a few minutes later, and I see it’s Dex calling.
“Hey!” I scream into the phone.
He says something, but I can’t hear him.
“What?” I scream.
He says something else, but I still can’t hear him.
“We’re at the club you told Ivy about!” I yell. “I can’t hear you!”
The call ends, and I slip it back into my crossbody and resume my dancing with Ivy.
A few minutes later, some guy starts dancing with me from behind. He didn’t ask but instead is just moving along my backside. Is this how they do things here in Vegas? Because I didn’t ask for this.
When I feel his boner against my ass, I turn around and glare at him, and he holds up both hands as if to say he’s sorry before he walks away.
A few minutes later, a different guy starts dancing behind me, and his friend is dancing behind Ivy. We each make eyes at each other, and I’m about to turn around and glare at this guy, too, when suddenly he’s down on the floor and I have no clue what the hell just happened.
But when I look up and see Dex as he shakes out his hand, I have a pretty good feeling about what it was.
Dex is here.
I force the hearts out of my eyes. He showed up, and he just slugged the guy who was coming onto me, no questions asked. He looks fine as fuck as our eyes meet, and I think I realize in the moment how incredibly powerful the feelings I have for him have become.
He’s becoming someone who takes care of the people around him rather than taking care of his own needs first. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I know that’s true.
I mean, we need to work on his reactive nature a bit, but it would appear that both times I’ve seen him throw a punch, he’s done it for me.
Does that mean he’s changing? Or is this just who he always was? Either way, I hope there could be a future for us.
That could be the vodka talking. I think I’m drunker than I even realized.
Reality plows into me as I realize I have no clue why he’s actually here.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Jack?” I ask.
“He’s with Milton. Are you okay?”
My brows crash together. “I’m fine,” I say, though as the guy on the floor clutches his jaw in pain, I’m suddenly not feeling very fine. In fact, I’m pretty sure the alcohol is ready to make an exit, and not through the standard pathways.
“Shit,” I mutter, and I cover my mouth as I feel my stomach heave.
There’s no time to get to the bathroom.
I don’t have enough time to react. This is my first time being this drunk, and I suddenly feel like I’m stuck in place as I bend over at the waist and proceed to throw up all over the floor.
And Dex’s shoes.
And possibly on the guy who was dancing with me uninvited, though I suppose I’ll never know for sure.
Guess my worst date ever wasn’t the only one to pull that move.
“Shit!” Dex says beside me, and he hauls me up into his arms and carries me out of the club. I see Ivy rushing after us behind his shoulder, but he can’t seem to be moved to notice he’s leaving his sister behind.
“Dex, what are you doing here?” Ivy yells at him once we’re outside the club and it’s quiet. She doesn’t need to be yelling, and suddenly my head is pounding.
“I got Ainsley’s text. I called, and it sounded like something was wrong, so I came and found you,” he says. He’s still holding me in his arms, and I don’t really want him to let me go since I don’t feel like I could function properly if he did.
I’m suddenly so sleepy.
“What did she text you that you came running?” Ivy asks.
He flashes his phone at his sister, and out of curiosity and not feeling quite as drunk now that I threw up, I ask, “Can I see?”
I read the screen.
Ainsley: Help chekkin in!!!
“She asked for help with three exclamation points, so here I am to help,” he says.
“I meant to say, hey, just checking in,” I mutter.
Ivy tilts her head. “Wait a minute. Since when do you come running when someone needs help?”
We exchange a glance. I’m not sober enough to pretend like I’m not developing some strong feelings for her brother, so I let him field that question.
“Since the person who I’ve hired to take care of my kid asks for it,” he says flatly.
There’s more to it than that, obviously, but he doesn’t allow any further questions. Instead, he carries me to the car waiting out front, Ivy’s birthday celebration coming to an end thanks to my drunken text and her stupid, overprotective big brother and the feelings simmering between us.