Chapter 3
Jordan
“I’m glad you convinced me to get the pizza,” I tell Liam, shoveling the last bite into my mouth.
I don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling smugly. “Definitely beats that piddly rabbit food you wanted to get.”
The last thing I expected when we left the bar was food, but it was the first thing Liam suggested when we walked out the doors and onto the strip. Much to my disappointment—at the time.
My hormones were going crazy. If he’d asked me to go back to his hotel room, there wouldn’t have been a second thought.
I would have jumped at the chance. Now that I’ve had some fresh air, a walk, and some food, I’m beginning to remember all the reasons I shouldn’t even be thinking about Liam and sex.
The two shouldn’t exist in the same sentence, let alone actually entertaining the idea.
Alcohol. I’m blaming the alcohol for everything tonight. I know the lobby bar was only a shot or three in, but that means we weren’t sober. I can blame it.
What I’m not going to blame is the chemistry between us. Sure, we’ve been flirting hard over the last few months, but tonight was explosive. If it was anything but the alcohol, then we’re both in big trouble because I have no idea how either of us will ignore it for much longer.
And we have to ignore it.
“Have you seen this dress? It’s going to get even tighter since I chose the pizza and not the salad.” I realize my mistake when I glance in Liam’s direction and find his nostrils flaring, taking a sweep of my body. I give him a gentle slap to his arm. “Being bloated isn’t sexy. Stop it.”
“Not sure there’s anything you do that isn’t sexy,” he mumbles, but at least he stops ogling me.
We walk in silence in the direction of our hotel.
It isn’t uncomfortable, but there is an awkwardness to it that wasn’t there prior to tonight.
Maybe it’s just on my part, though. Knowing Liam, he probably doesn’t feel it.
Why would he? We both know the deal between us.
Nothing can happen except a little flirting when Nate isn’t around.
Besides that, Liam isn’t interested in anything except a one-night stand.
This hardcore flirting with a woman and then going back to normal is a regular thing for him.
Just because I know the guy on a deeper level than any other woman he regularly takes home, doesn’t make me special.
I’ve seen him in action. He flirts with everyone.
“Ever been to Paris?” Liam asks out of the blue, interrupting my thoughts.
Confused, I frown at him. “No. I’ve never been overseas.”
“You wanna go?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me, causing a stray wave to fall over his forehead while his mouth pulls up into his grin. Turning to face me, he walks backwards along the crowded sidewalk. It doesn’t seem to faze him, though, and somehow he manages not to run into anyone.
My frown deepens because it’s hard to resist smiling back at him when he suddenly seems so boyish. “To Paris? Sure, one day. But I doubt days before my brother’s wedding is an appropriate time.”
Abruptly stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, his hands come to grip my arms when I nearly run into him. Smiling eagerly, he lifts an arm above his head, gesturing to something behind him. “We won’t miss the wedding.”
I follow the motion, looking up at the giant tower lit up in the night sky. Paris, the hotel. Not Paris, France.
Sliding an arm around my shoulders, he turns so we’re both looking up at the tower. “I bet the views of the strip are amazing from up there.”
There’s no chance he’s wrong about that. The views would be incredible. But is it a good idea? Is it really the smartest thing to go up to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Vegas and look out over the strip? Doesn’t that seem a tad… romantic?
Liam doesn’t do romance, I remind myself.
This is just him being sociable. Besides a comment here and there since we left the club, the flirting has vanished.
Even his arm around my shoulders feels far more friendly than intimate.
There is no reason while we’re in Vegas we can’t take in some of the tourist attractions that aren’t already on our agenda.
Wrapping my arm around his waist, I mimic Liam’s half grin. “Take me to Paris.”
Twenty minutes later we’re in the glass enclosed elevator on the last ride of the night to the observation deck, with the strip getting further and further away.
As the elevator attendant rattles off facts and comparisons to the real Eiffel Tower, I can’t help the flips my stomach is doing.
I’ve never considered myself scared of heights, but forty-six stories high, surrounded by glass on our way to a deck that’s in the open air, is making my heart race.
It has to be that. It can’t be the man standing at my back, closer than he probably should be, thanks to the other patrons on the ride up with us. Every once in a while I can feel his black dress shirt brush against the bare skin of my upper back, or his crotch press into the curve of my ass.
Even with my back to him, I can tell he’s aware of it too.
With each innocent touch, I hear his breath change, feel the shift of his body, and then he immediately distracts himself—or me—with a comment about the view, or a question to the attendant.
It’s taken three occurrences of this happening for me to figure it out, but now that I have, I’m wondering if Liam is second-guessing his idea of coming up here.
As if on cue, a lady the age of my mother catches my eye and smiles. “You two make a beautiful couple.”
Liam goes rigid behind me, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing. There are two ways I could handle this, and I’ve still got just enough of a buzz left to go with the one that’ll cause trouble.
What can I say? I like to live dangerously when I’m drinking.
Before Liam has a chance to correct the lady, I lean back so my body is flush against his. Reaching for his hands at his sides, I wrap them around my waist and smile at the woman, then tilt my head back to peer at Liam’s surprised face.
“That’s so sweet of you,” I tell her, without taking my eyes off of him. “Thank you.”
He’s off kilter. His eyes move wildly between the woman and me, his arms stiff, trying to refrain from as much contact as possible.
There’s no choice when it comes to the length of his body, though.
Not with the way I’m pressing against him, shifting ever so slightly with the natural movement of the elevator.
I’d have to be a virgin to not realize what was going on with him. Even then, I might still be able to figure out that his body is reacting to mine, the bulge pressing into my ass a tell-tale sign.
Finally, his eyes land strictly on me, wide at first before narrowing. Leaning down so his lips are at my ear, he growls, “Stop being a brat.”
Biting back a giggle, my smile stretches from ear to ear, knowing I’ve gotten to him. Much in the same way he got to me back in the club.
Before anyone can say another word, the elevator is coming to a halt. Liam’s arms aren’t stiff anymore as his hands come to rest on my hips, guiding me out the door with everyone else. As we step onto the observation deck, a gasp is pulled from my lungs.
The sight before us is incredible.
The expanse of the Vegas skyline, the twinkling lights of the strip below us, the magic of the hustle and bustle taking place so far down.
It’s magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like it.
I can see for miles and miles, but all I want to look at is what’s right below us and along the strip.
We have a birds eye view of everything going on, and it’s remarkable.
More breathtaking is the way the wind whips through my hair as we step away from the middle of the tower, away from the elevator, closer toward the cage that encompasses the deck.
The further we move away from the enclosed space, the windier it becomes.
It’s a lot cooler up here than it is on the strip, far from all the pavement and concrete that has soaked up the sun all day.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking it in, the scene in the elevator vanished from my mind.
Liam moves to my side, one hand still on my hip, his arm now wrapped around my waist. “Damn. This is nice.”
Pulling my phone out of my clutch, I start taking pictures from every angle before I start a video, moving the phone back and forth slowly to take in all of the glitz and glamor.
“Coming to you from the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas where the views are spectacular and the company is even better,” I say for the camera as I move it around, training the video on Liam after panning across the skyline.
“Aw shucks,” he responds, pushing a fist across his own chin, acting like he’s bashful when we both know that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Then he waves a finger at the camera, giving it his signature grin. “And don’t you forget it.”
It makes me laugh. Humble doesn’t exist in Liam’s vocabulary and I love that about him. “I promise I won’t.” Ending the video, I flip the camera around. “Take a selfie with me. We need to commemorate this with a picture.”
Liam isn’t the type of guy that shies away from a camera or a picture.
He’s always the first one to get in there and ham it up, and it’s no different tonight as we both turn around with our backs to the lights down below.
I raise my phone, trying to get a good angle when he takes it from me and holds it out with his longer arms, giving us an even better picture than I could have.
“Smile,” he whispers in my ear, standing behind me again with his face next to mine.
We both put on our best smiles for the camera before he tells me to make a silly face. I cross my eyes and stick out my tongue, wondering what kind of face he’s making for the camera.
“Hey, hey, look,” he exclaims, bringing the camera down before turning around.