Chapter 10

Adelaide

According to Hailey’s itinerary, we should be checking in for our VIP bottle service at the club right about now, yet Hailey Clark is nowhere to be seen.

It’s highly unusual for her to let her plans fall by the wayside, but she is handcuffed to Theo, so things are out of her control, and she’ll be hating every single minute of it.

Also, I don’t care.

I don’t care about the club, or the rest of the weekend, or anything.

Connor has shattered me.

I feel physically ill. I can’t stop replaying the moment he confronted me on a loop inside my head, and every time I reimagine him saying the words, “I know, Adelaide,” bile rises in my throat.

Melissa is having the time of her life, sipping on free drinks and enjoying her lucky winning streak in the casino, so it’s only when I eventually coax her off the slot machines that she finally notices my pale complexion.

“You don’t look good, Addy. Are you feeling okay?” she asks, a concerned crease in her brow.

“I’m just tired from the early alarm this morning,” is the lie I feed her. “And all of the booze is getting to me. I might switch to water.”

“Water?” Melissa repeats. “In the club?”

“Hey, if the bride wants to rehydrate in the club on her bachelorette party, then the bride gets to rehydrate in the club,” I manage to say with a smile.

I didn’t care that much about this weekend in the first place.

It’s hard to care about your bachelorette party when you’ve already lost all excitement for your wedding, so if this all goes to hell—like I’m sensing it is—then so what?

The only thing that now matters to me this weekend is making sure Connor keeps his mouth shut.

It had to be a lapse in his judgment, because who does that?

Who confronts someone they rarely see about something so insanely intimate and personal?

Who puts someone on the spot like that, and in public moreover?

If he has the nerve to address whatever concerns he has with me, then maybe he has the nerve to address those concerns with Liam, too.

I need to pull Connor aside and convince him he’s wrong before he sets off a grenade that causes damage beyond repair.

“Let’s go pry the men off the roulette tables,” I say, hooking my arm around Melissa’s.

As we work our way across the casino, my heart hammers so fast it feels like it may just leap straight out of my chest. It’s something I experience frequently, because I live a very anxious life these days.

I can’t remember the last time I felt truly relaxed and calm.

I can’t recall what peace and happiness even feel like anymore.

Every day is just stress and panic and worry.

As I approach Liam from behind, all of those emotions heighten further. I suppress them and slink my arms around his shoulders, pressing my face into the crook of his neck as I hug him.

“Hey, babe,” I murmur. “Still winning?”

“Still winning,” Liam confirms, twisting to press a kiss to my forehead.

“We have our table reservation at the club. Are you guys joining us or staying here?”

I hold my breath, because I desperately want him to decline the offer. I’d much rather dance all night with just the girls, in true bachelorette party fashion, but I’m sure Liam would get that hurt look on his face if I didn’t offer him the chance to hang out at the club with us.

“What do you say, boys?” He confers with the rest of the table. “Are we hijacking the ladies’ booth at the club?”

“Dude, those club tables cost a fortune. We are absolutely hijacking theirs,” Tyler says with a wolfish grin in my direction as he promptly clears his gambling chips from the table and jumps to his feet.

“I’m down to dance,” John says.

With great trepidation, I let my gaze shift to Connor. His mouth is a bold, straight line as he stares back at me with my arms draped around Liam. I feel so exposed and vulnerable keeping this act going with Connor seeing right through us.

“Are you coming to the club, Connor?” I ask, keeping my voice steady. I narrow my eyes at him from behind Liam’s back, daring him to do anything other than comply.

“Yes, I’m coming to the club.”

“Great! Let’s get moving.”

The guys cash in their chips as we call it quits on the casino for the rest of tonight.

Liam walks hand in hand with me as we follow signs for Marquee, the Cosmopolitan’s nightclub.

Surprisingly, none of us is embarrassingly stumbling around or slurring sentences, so we are at no risk of being denied entry.

When we reach the club, there are red ropes and lines snaking all down the walkway.

There’s a line for general admission, a line for hotel guests, a line for the guest list, a line for bottle service check-in—and they’re all packed.

Security in suits keep everything running smoothly though, and we join the line for bottle service.

“Oh, thank God,” I hear someone breathe with relief, and when I turn around, Evie is dipping under the rope to join us in line.

I haven’t seen her in hours, and I realize far too late I haven’t been doing a great job of looking after her on her first (legal) wild outing, because I haven’t even so much as texted her to make sure she was okay.

“I remembered from Hailey’s stupid itinerary that we were scheduled to be checking in for the club, so I was hoping I’d find you all here.” She blows out a breath and tosses her hair over her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” I ask, because she appears flustered and breathless, and Evie is never flustered and breathless. “Where have you been?”

“Gambling,” she answers matter-of-factly. She glances around her, then makes a point of tucking herself in between Liam and Connor.

Liam suddenly wonders, “Hey, where’s your brother? I haven’t seen Theo since we left the bar.”

“He’s still handcuffed to Hailey,” I say, and Melissa gleefully snickers. Thanks to her dare, she is enjoying endless amusement at Theo and Hailey’s expense.

“Poor guy. He’s missing out on the club. I bet Hailey has him triple-checking the plans for tomorrow with her.”

“As if,” Evie says, then rolls her eyes. “Theo has been pining after her for years, so trust me, that boy is not suffering right now. I’ll text them and let them know we’re here. They maybe just haven’t noticed the time. Where did they say they were going?”

“To get a phone charger,” Connor answers, and every time he opens his mouth to say anything, his husky tone does something strange to my body. “Since when does it take hours to grab a charger from the room?”

“They’re fucking,” John says.

Tyler nods in agreement. “Definitely fucking.”

“Ewww,” Evie squeals, grimacing as she shakes her head in disgust. “Addy, this joint bach is not working for me.”

We are called forward to the front of the line where we check in. We’re all carded, sent through the security checkpoint, and then personally escorted into the club.

It’s deafening inside. EDM blares from state-of-the-art speaker systems and strobe lights flare around us.

There’s a huge LED DJ booth up front, funky displays on giant projection screens, and already thousands of people partying.

Our booth is on the very edge of the dance floor, roped off and guarded by our very own bouncer to ensure no one strays into our space.

“This is insane!” Evie yells over the music as she gapes around in awe, and I completely agree.

This is out of this world compared to the clubs back home, although I can’t actually remember the last time I was in a nightclub, because Liam strops if I even dare to grab a drink after work at a cocktail bar.

It’s only okay if he’s there too, which I suspect is a huge reason why he insisted on having his bachelor party here in Vegas alongside mine.

He wants to keep an eye on me, and right now, he’s keeping a firm hold on my hand, too.

There are already massive bottles of vodka and rum in buckets of ice in the middle of our booth, surrounded by different mixers. As everyone immediately dives in (and the guys promise to pay us half of what us ladies have already forked out in advance), I fix myself with a bottle of water.

“What’s up?” Liam asks, tapping his knee against mine as he sits down next to me on the plush leather seating. “Why are you drinking water? Are you worried about getting too drunk and embarrassing yourself?”

I wrinkle my nose at him. “My throat’s a little dry, that’s all.”

“Okay, babe.”

Connor sits on Liam’s other side and smiles at us both over the rim of his glass as he swigs the vodka cranberry he’s just poured himself. “So, guys. Are we excited for the wedding? It’s come around fast, huh?”

“Man, I can’t wait,” Liam replies, giving my thigh a squeeze. “I’ve spent a long time dreaming of marrying this woman right here.”

“And you, Adelaide? Are you excited for the wedding?”

I glare at Connor, because what the fuck is he doing?

“Of course,” I say, tilting the bottled water to my lips so I don’t have to say anything more.

Behind him, Evie and Melissa have climbed up onto the booth and started dancing while John and Tyler sit back and drink. I grab the chance to escape this conversation and ask, “Can I go dance, too?”

Liam tightens his hand around my thigh. “Babe, Connor’s talking to us.”

“That’s okay. It’s her bachelorette party!

Go dance, Addy,” Connor says, and we both know it’s a dare as he smiles at me, strobe lights flickering in his brown eyes.

He dares me to challenge Liam’s objections, because he knows that I won’t .

. . can’t . . . And then he’ll know he’s absolutely right—I am under Liam’s control.

“I’d rather you stayed here with me,” Liam says sweetly.

I look at Liam, then Connor, both of them expecting something of me. Liam expects compliance, Connor defiance. At the end of the day, my loyalties are with Liam. They’ll always be with Liam.

“I’ll dance later,” I say, snuggling closer into my fiancé, and I see the way Connor’s chest deflates with a sigh.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.