Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Linc was right. A nap had been exactly what Britt had needed. When she woke up, her headache was gone, and she actually felt mostly human again.
After breakfast, everyone had gone their respective ways. Since Linc had insisted she not be alone, she’d given him her spare key, then headed up to her room to lie down. After stopping by his room to fetch his laptop, he'd come over and let himself in.
Somewhere along the line last night he’d lost his phone.
It was probably evil, but it made her feel a tiny bit better knowing she wasn’t the only one who’d been stupid drunk.
And speaking of which… how was it fair that she looked like, as Emery put it, “Freddy Krueger with lipstick,” while Linc looked hot as ever? Answer: it wasn’t.
Linc said he’d logged into the cloud from his computer while she was napping and enabled “lost mode” on his phone.
If someone found his phone, they wouldn’t be able to open it to see who it belonged to since it was password protected.
Activating lost mode allowed him to leave a contact number—hers—that would appear on the locked screen.
That way if someone did find it, they’d see a number to call.
At least, it bettered the odds of getting it back.
She’d lucked out on the losing stuff front.
According to Skye, she’d left her purse on the table at the nightclub last night when she’d “disappeared.” Left with a stranger was more like it, based on where she’d woken up this morning, but she refused to think about that.
Thankfully, Skye had taken the purse with her and dropped it off at Britt’s room this morning.
Hopefully, Linc would be lucky too. She couldn’t imagine losing her phone.
How would she function? The only phone number she knew by heart was her momma’s, and that’s only because she was one of the minority who still had a landline.
The number was the same as it had been since Britt was little, which is the only reason it stuck in her brain.
It was horrible when she thought about it.
She’d become way too spoiled thanks to technology.
She promised herself to memorize her friends’ numbers in case of an emergency.
At the very least, Linc’s because she knew for a fact he’d drop everything, like he did today, to help her if she needed him.
If such a thing as karma existed, Linc would get his phone back.
He was such a nice guy. Like a truly nice guy.
He’d even stopped at the vending machine on the way back to her room and bought a pack of peanut butter crackers so she’d have something to eat when she woke up.
Just the fact he’d thought to do it proved he was one of the good ones.
“Where do you want to go next?” Linc asked, pulling her from her musings.
They’d decided to walk down the Strip after she’d woken up to check out some of the shops and casinos.
“The M&M store,” she answered without hesitation.
“Says the woman who was too sick to eat breakfast.”
She ignored the dig since he’d been so nice to her earlier.
“Chocolate makes everything better. Plus, I want to get some magnets.” She couldn’t remember when she’d started collecting them, but she bought magnets whenever she traveled.
“And it’s right next to the Coca-Cola Store, so we can hit two birds with one stone. ”
“Which is a very disturbing idiom.”
She grinned. “Look at you using big, fancy words.”
“‘Idiom’ isn’t a fancy word. Plus, it’s only five letters. That doesn’t qualify as big.”
She rolled her eyes.
“‘Oniomania.’ That’s a fancy word,” he countered. “And four letters longer, I might add.”
“Nerd. What does it mean?”
When the light changed, he laced his fingers through hers and led her across the street. “‘Oniomania?’ That should be your license plate.”
She gave him her best answer the question look.
He smirked. “It’s the clinical term for ‘Compulsive Buying Disorder.’”
She bumped him with her shoulder. “Ha ha. Such a funny guy.”
“But not wrong. How many souvenir magnets do you have on your fridge now?”
“I plead the fifth.”
“I rest my case. You need a twelve-step program. Might as well admit it. I’ve got your number.”
“Too bad you can’t call it since you don’t have your phone,” she sassed.
“Brat.”
“But not wrong,” she pointed out, tossing his earlier words back at him.
“Okay, Miss Smarty Pants…”
“Smarty Pants?”
“Would you rather…” He put an arm around Britt’s waist and tugged her closer, affording a lady pushing a stroller enough room to pass on the crowded sidewalk. “...never be allowed to purchase another magnet for as long as you live, or never be able to wear high heels again?”
Britt heard the question. It just wasn’t registering.
Linc’s hand was still resting on her waist, even though they’d resumed walking.
His pinky was rubbing along the strip of exposed skin peeking out between her shorts and tank top.
He probably wasn’t even aware he was doing it, but the simple movement was causing her brain to short circuit, which was… weird. He was her best friend.
“Zana?”
Her thoughts came tumbling back into reach. “What? Oh. Um, define high.”
“Two inches plus?”
“Two inches is basically wearing flats.”
“Says the beauty queen who can walk in sky-high, fuck-me pumps like it’s nothing.”
She sucked in a breath.
“Your words, not mine,” Linc added.
He wasn’t wrong. Some of the shoes she owned did qualify as fuck-me pumps. In her book, anything over four inches earned that moniker. And it was true. She did call them that. Except when she said it, her stomach had never dipped like it just did when Linc uttered those words.
“Fuck-me” and “pumps.” She’d never realized until this very moment how erotic those words sounded when put together. Not until she’d heard them coming out of her best friend’s mouth… while his pinky was stroking her skin.
What the hell’s wrong with me?
She gathered her hair up like a ponytail and fanned the back of her neck with it. “Man, it’s hot.”
Linc chuckled. Removing his hand from her waist, he used it to push up his glasses. “It’s Vegas. Quit stalling and answer the question.”
“Pumps,” she blurted.
Why was that word suddenly conjuring inappropriate thoughts of Linc and some very dirty hip action?
Lord have mercy!
“Yes to wearing pumps?” he asked. “Or yes to not wearing pumps?”
Oh, for crying out loud!
She felt dizzy.
“To pump or not to pump, that is the question,” he said with a flourish.
For the love of all that’s holy, stop saying pump!
“Oh, look! We’re here!” Britt bolted into the M&M store that they’d mercifully reached. Never in her life had she been more thankful to see a piece of candy with arms, legs, and googly eyes.
Luckily, she was able to distract Linc with chocolate and endless requests for opinions on magnets until he forgot about the p-word that was now on her shit list.
Seven shops, nine magnets, 3 shot glasses, a deck of cards, and an “I love Vegas” picture frame made of poker chips later, they made it back to the hotel.
She’d gotten a call from the front desk letting them know someone had found and turned in Linc’s phone, so they stopped to get it before he walked her to her room.
“See you downstairs at six?” he asked.
Jake had made seven o’clock dinner reservations for everyone at Gordon Ramsay's Hell's Kitchen restaurant a month ago, since he didn’t want to take any chances on getting in. He and Laurel watched the television show and had always wanted to try the Beef Wellington. Britt could make it for them for way less than the seventy-five dollars or so they’d end up paying at the restaurant, but they wanted the experience.
Honestly, aside from dreading the hit to her bank account, she was looking forward to seeing how it stacked up against hers, which was pretty damn good, if she did say so herself.
They were all going to meet in the lobby, then take the Monorail to the restaurant.
Leaving at six would probably get them there early, but better to be early than late.
Plus, Emery was never on time for anything, so unless Gage dragged her downstairs, they most likely wouldn’t leave on time anyway.
“I’ll be there.”
A shiver ran through her when Linc pulled her in for a hug.
She told herself it was because they’d just come in from the hundred-degree weather outside and the air conditioning in the hotel was a good thirty-degree temperature drop.
It had absolutely nothing to do with the way his warm breath coasted across her skin.
“Thanks for giving up your day to hang out with me.”
She felt him shake his head. “Zan, hanging out with you made my day.”
With her cheek pressed against his broad chest, she hugged him back. She kept her mouth shut because the way that confession made her feel? It definitely wasn’t how she should be feeling for her platonic best friend.