3. Nova
Nova
I was on a high. Not only was I up almost five hundred dollars, I had just hit it big by betting on my lucky number. I didn’t know how much I’d just won, but the dealer had shoved a large stack of chips my way.
But the real win? The way Jax’s hands had felt wrapped around my waist when he lifted me up, the rumbling sound of his laughter against my chest, and the look in his eyes right before he set me back on my feet.
For a split second, his steady, reliable best-friend facade had slipped, leaving something raw and entirely untempered underneath.
After I’d cashed out my ridiculous pile of plastic chips, the adrenaline was still humming too loudly under my skin for me to go straight to bed. I was a little over a thousand dollars richer.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing Jax’s forearm and pulling him toward the towering glass exit doors of the Apex. “We need to walk this off before I try to buy a slot machine.”
“You’re asking for danger carting all that cash around, Nova. Why don’t you buy us a round of ice cream to help the cause?” he teased.
I laughed and agreed. We stepped out into the hot, desert night.
The Vegas Strip after dark was a living, breathing creature that drew me in.
The heat hit us immediately—a heavy, dry warmth that lingered on the concrete long after the sun had dipped below the mountains.
It was a massive contrast to the crisp, cool Colorado nights we were currently having back home.
But with the neon lights buzzing overhead and the sea of tourists drifting past, it all felt magical.
We walked side by side down the Strip, our shoulders brushing with every few steps. Jax had shed his leather jacket, slinging it casually over one shoulder. His dark T-shirt clung just enough to show the broad line of his back. Every glance, every laugh, every casual touch felt… different.
We stopped at the edge of a massive, man-made lake just as the music began to swell from hidden speakers.
The Bellagio fountains erupted, massive plumes of water dancing and shooting hundreds of feet into the starless sky, perfectly synchronized to a classic jazz track.
The mist from the spray drifted across the street, a cool, brief relief from the heavy evening air.
I leaned against the railing, looking up at the water, then glanced sideways at Jax. He wasn’t looking at the fountains. He was looking at me, the flashing white lights reflecting in the crystal blue of his eyes.
“What?” I asked, my voice dropping over the roar of the water.
The lopsided dimple made a brief appearance. “Nothing. Just checking to see if you’re enjoying your first trip to Vegas or calculating how much pressure it takes to shoot the water that high.”
“Ha ha. I am fully capable of enjoying a spectacle without analyzing the logistics, thank you very much,” I said, bumping my shoulder against his arm. “Though, logistically speaking, I am currently melting. I need that ice cream,” I added when the water had stopped spraying.
“Your wish is my command.” He laughed and took my hand to pull me through the crowd.
We ducked into an upscale, brightly lit creamery just down the sidewalk.
The air conditioning inside was a shock to the system, instantly raising the goose bumps on my bare arms. I eagerly ordered a double scoop of dark chocolate gelato in a waffle cone, while Jax opted for a simple vanilla bean cup.
Sitting out on the patio, we watched people passing by and talked about them as if we knew what their lives were like.
We guessed why each group of people was there, laughing at the ones dressed in matching outfits for big parties.
Brides-to-be, birthday celebrations, and several couples that appeared to be on their honeymoon.
By the time we walked back into the lobby of the Apex, we were on a mission to eat dinner. We headed to the high-roller burger restaurant at the edge of the lobby area and found a quiet, recessed booth near the back, away from the main dining area.
“So,” Jax said, leaning his elbows on the table and looking at me as I took a bite of my burger. “First night in Vegas. Did it live up to the strict standards of your itinerary?”
“The itinerary didn’t account for black eleven,” I said softly, holding his gaze over the rim of my drink. “So I’d say reality completely outperformed my hopes. What about you?”
Jax’s eyes darkened slightly, his focus dropping to my mouth for a fraction of a second before he looked back up. The playful, easygoing vibe from the casino floor shifted, replaced by a quiet, heavy tension that had nothing to do with marketing pitches or family businesses.
“It’s been better than I thought it would be,” he murmured, his voice a low, raspy velvet. “Thanks for tagging along. I would have just spent the night up in the room watching television.”
“And miss all this?” I motioned around us. “How am I going to be able to sleep knowing this is going on down below us?”
He chuckled. “You’d better sleep if we plan on making our meeting tomorrow.”
“That’s so far away.” I glanced around. “For now, I’m going to shop and maybe buy something with my winnings.”
“That’s a great idea.”
The indoor promenade of the Apex was a maze of high-end boutiques and indoor gardens.
After finishing our burgers, we strolled from shop to shop.
We wandered through the air-conditioned luxury stores, checking out the glass-blown sculptures hanging from the ceiling and laughing at the ridiculous scale of the resort’s indoor waterfall.
Everywhere we went, I was hyper-aware of Jax. He stayed close, his hand occasionally resting on the small of my back to guide me through the drifting crowds of high-rollers and tourists. Every touch felt like a tiny electric current under my skin.
“Look at that,” I said, stopping near a corridor lined with dark glass and glowing violet LED strip lights. There were bright lights, screens filled with dancing people, and a deep, heavy bass line thumping through the speakers, vibrating right up through the soles of my heels.
Jax looked up at the sleek sign above the entrance: Mirage, the Apex’s exclusive rooftop nightclub. A slow, knowing smile crossed his face. “Don’t tell me the rule follower wants to go clubbing.”
“I am a multi-faceted individual, Jax,” I said, pulling him by the hand toward the VIP line.
“Plus, it’s my lucky night. I think the universe is telling us to celebrate.
” We moved forward in the line. “Since this is on the roof top, do you think this means we won’t be getting much sleep because of the noise? ” I asked.
“We’re in a different building now than our suite,” he answered.
The bouncer took one look at our room key card from the penthouse suite and slid the velvet rope aside without a word. An express elevator shot us up to the roof, and when the doors opened, the energy of the club hit me like a physical wave.
The club was spectacular. Half of it was indoor luxury with plush VIP booths, and the other half was a massive rooftop deck with an infinity pool that seemed to spill right into the neon skyline of the Strip. The air was a mix of expensive perfume, cool desert breeze, and pure adrenaline.
“Drink?” Jax asked, leaning down so his mouth was right next to my ear so I could hear him over the pounding remix of a popular song. His warm breath sent a shiver straight down my spine.
“Vodka soda,” I yelled back, flashing him a smile.
He nodded and maneuvered through the crowd toward the bar with that effortless, broad-shouldered grace of his.
I watched him go, my heart doing a dangerous thud against my ribs.
Out here, under the flashing strobe lights, Jax looked entirely untouchable.
He was the man in the room that all the women eyed as he strolled by.
Left alone near the edge of the VIP lounge, I leaned my hips back against a high-top table, watching the sea of bodies move to the heavy bass.
“You look entirely too captivating to be standing here completely unattended,” a smooth, cultured voice murmured over the music.
I blinked and turned my head. Standing a mere two feet away was a man who looked like he’d walked straight off a Milan runway.
He was tall, with sharply styled dark hair, piercing gray eyes, and an impeccably tailored navy suit that practically screamed old-money wealth.
He carried himself with the kind of supreme, unshakeable confidence that only comes with owning everything in your line of sight.
A charming, dangerous smile curved his lips as his gaze drifted slowly down the length of my emerald dress before locking back onto my eyes. “Can I buy you a drink? Or perhaps a temporary escape from the crowd?”
The sheer magnetism of the guy would have worked on 99% of the women in this club, but my heart was already entirely occupied by a guy currently standing at the bar yelling out our drink orders.
I offered the man a polite, apologetic smile and shook my head. “Thank you, but I’m actually here with someone. He’s just grabbing our drinks.”
The man tilted his head, his smile widening with an intrigued, competitive glint that I couldn’t quite read. “A lucky man,” he said, his voice a low, smooth purr. “But Vegas is a city built on shifting luck. If he takes too long, I might just have to try my hand again.”
Before I could even process the smooth threat of his words, a heavy, protective shadow fell over the space between us.
Suddenly, Jax was back, handing me my drink while keeping his own scotch in hand. He didn’t say a word to the stranger, but his broad shoulders completely blocked the man from my view. His jaw was set in a hard, rigid line as he staked his claim.
The dark-haired man simply raised his glass in a silent, knowing toast toward Jax’s back, a flash of pure amusement crossing his handsome face before he melted effortlessly back into the VIP crowd.
“Who was that?” Jax asked, his voice noticeably deeper and rougher than it had been five minutes ago as he watched the space the man had just occupied.
“No idea. He didn’t give a name,” I said, taking a sip of the ice-cold vodka soda to soothe the sudden spike of heat in the air. “Just a guy testing his luck.”
Jax’s blue eyes snapped down to mine, dark and intensely possessive under the strobe lights. We took a few sips, letting the music wash over us. Then I set my glass down on a nearby high-top table and caught his wrist.
“Come on,” I said, tugging him toward the packed dance floor.
Jax laughed, a breathless sound swallowed by the bass, but he didn’t resist. He let me pull him into the center of the crowd.
The music shifted to a slower, heavier, more hypnotic rhythm. I moved with the beat, my emerald green dress shifting against my skin as I closed the distance between us. Jax didn’t step back. Instead, his hands found my hips, his large palms warm and firm through the thin fabric of my dress.
My heart completely stopped, then restarted at double time.
I looped my arms around his neck, looking up at him.
The flashing blue and purple lights illuminated the sharp planes of his face, casting deep shadows over his crystal blue eyes.
Jax was a good dancer—he didn’t try too hard, just moved with a natural, heavy rhythm that mirrored the bass line thumping in our chests.
As the crowd surged around us, he pulled me a fraction closer, tucking my hips against his.
The heat radiating off him was intense, completely driving the cool air-conditioned breeze from my mind.
I leaned into him, burying my face for a brief second against the crook of his neck, breathing in that intoxicating mix of cedarwood and clean sweat.
When I looked back up, his gaze was locked onto my face.
The easy, playful best-friend look was entirely gone, replaced by a dark, burning intensity that made my knees go weak.
His thumb brushed against the bare skin of my waist where my dress cut low, a slow, deliberate caress that felt entirely intentional.
For a long, breathless string of songs, the rest of the club completely vanished. There were no rules, no marketing pitches, no family expectations. There was just the weight of his hands on my body and the agonizingly beautiful certainty that something had shifted between us tonight.
By the time the clock crept past midnight, the adrenaline finally began to wane, leaving a heavy, blissful exhaustion in its place.
“We should probably get some sleep before our meeting tomorrow,” Jax murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration against my ear as his chin brushed my hair.
“Probably,” I breathed. I didn’t want to let him go, but he was right. Besides, I was dying to get out of the heels that I’d put on however many hours ago.
We made our way back down to the lobby area and to the penthouse elevators in silence. The ride up to the top floor was agonizingly tense. Every time the elevator chimed, the air inside the small glass box felt thicker.
When Jax swiped the key card and the heavy double doors to our suite clicked open, the quiet sanctuary of the room felt almost overwhelming after the chaos of the club. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed a sleeping, glittering city below.
We stood in the massive shared sitting room, the space between his bedroom door and mine suddenly feeling like a canyon.
“Tonight was… perfect,” I said softly, kicking off my killer heels and holding them in one hand.
Jax stood by the velvet sectional, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his eyes tracking me in the dim light of the suite. “Yeah. It was pretty fun.” He paused, his lopsided dimple making a faint, tired appearance. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow we show Mr. Sterling what GSM can do.”
“Goodnight, Jax.”
“Goodnight, Nova.”
I walked into my bedroom and closed the door, leaning my back against the dark wood.
My heart was still hammering a furious rhythm against my ribs.
I had survived the first night in Vegas and the heartbreak of knowing Jax wasn’t ever going to make a move.
I had to come up with a different plan before I did something stupid.