Chapter 2
McFlannel dropped his bags at the door, which was unfortunate because he”d have to pick them right back up when he left, but it was also fortunate because he took four long strides to me and helped wrangle Elvis back where he belonged.
He seemed to be actively avoiding looking my way.
”Holy crap.” I checked my top. It was a close one, but no nip slip. ”That would”ve been awful, huh?”
He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat that could”ve been an agreement or disagreement. It was hard to tell.
Thankfully, the girls remained safely enclosed in the elastic and satin top. Then I slid my gaze from Elvis—he was fine—to McFlannel.
The guy didn”t have any serial killer vibes, as I was fairly certain serial killers didn”t bring luggage with them. Also, I didn”t think I”d ever been attracted to a serial killer before, and here I was, dancing along the edge of sunstroke from how hot this guy was. Hot in the hunky sense.
”Uh. Thank you for your help.” I stepped back a smidge. ”Also, who are you?”
The guy looked like he honest-to-God worked outside with his hands.
”Who are you?” he asked, laidback, like I hadn”t just posed that exact query. ”Are you supposed to be here?”
Again, wasn”t that my line?
”Yes, and I”m Maya.” I shouldn”t just toss my name out like that to random people I didn’t know. And, also, I should have gotten Emily and let her deal with whatever was happening here, but I didn”t. Probably because of hot lumberjack guy fumes messing with my brainwaves.
”Look. I”m not sure what”s going on.” He sort of tilted his head to the side. ”Elliott will be right up. It”s his aunt”s place.”
”You”re here with Elliott?” I asked in horror, because that was about the worst news I”d heard in forever.
”You know him?”
Of course, I knew Elliott. ”He”s Emily”s brother.”
He was a sports agent. Which meant…
”Are you a football player?”
He frowned. ”Maybe.”
This guy, as a football player, made so much sense. And it helped to disperse those hot guy fumes he”d had before. I didn”t have a great history with football players. Not since my first boyfriend made the varsity team when we were in high school.
”Maybe isn”t really an answer,” I pointed out, with the little eyebrow quirk I”d perfected by practicing in the mirror with my hairbrush microphone.
”Yeah. I play. But… I”m not really into broadcasting that right now. I”m supposed to be incognito this weekend.”
”Ah,” I said.
He stood there, crossing his arms.
I stood there, too, crossing my arms.
”Elliott is parking the car,” McFlannel said, after the awkward pause dragged on a few beats too long.
I peeked around him. ”Are these suitcases all yours?”
He blinked way harder than necessary. ”No.”
Right, well… ”Then who do they belong to?”
”Elliott.” He gave me a look like some of the cheese had slid off my cracker. ”I lost the…you know…never mind.”
”You lost the…?” I asked.
”Doesn”t matter.” He shook his head. ”I said I”d bring them up.”
”Oh,” I said.
”Okay.”
We stood there in an odd sort of silence.
”I lost a bet,” he said, finally.
Well, that made more sense.
I refused to check him out again because this was my first night back, and I couldn”t just pick up the first guy I ran into. And definitely not a football player. Of all the players, they were the worst.
Except… I hated to say this, but this guy felt different. Different in a fantastic way.
He did the thing guys do where they check out a woman and their eyes flare only around the edges to show their bodies are interested, even if their mind hasn”t quite caught up with the physical response.
You know what? Actually, there wasn”t a rule or anything about picking up the first guy I ran into.
This was Vegas. The one place rules were bendable.
No! Bad Maya! Stop it!
I was in town for business. This man was not business.
Then again… business wouldn’t take all night.
I peeked to ensure my maybe future one-night stand wasn”t wearing a wedding band or showing the pale line of a guy who had slipped one off.
No ring. No pale line.
”Maya,” he said my name like he was doing a taste test at an ice cream shop. Savoring the vowels to see how they felt against his tongue. ”I like your name, Maya.”
He may as well have licked me with the way my body got all kinds of goosebumps.
”You haven”t mentioned your name,” I pointed out.
He heaved a deep breath. ”Sloan.”
”Sloan-n-n Stevens?” I asked.
Not that I followed football, but I followed TMZ, and they devoted an entire section on last week”s breakdown to Sloan Stevens and the way he fumbled endorsements.
”You play center for the Denver Stallions.” I remembered his position because it was right in the middle. Ba-dum-bum.
I smiled at my own inside joke.
He nodded. ”That”s me.”
He frowned, and the thin little wire that had been snapping and sizzling between us was no longer.
That was a freaking bummer.
”Out of curiosity, how much of what I said, uh, before on the phone, did you hear?” I asked. ”Did you hear the part about…” Er… what was the best way to phrase this?
”Respect being served with a side of tongue? Yeah, I heard that part, Maya.” Again, he did the taste test thing with my name. Dammit all, I still liked it.
Perhaps that little sizzle was still a live wire.
”Are you still talking to your mom—” Emily came to a halt behind me. Well, I assumed Emily stopped moving because she didn”t show up in front of me, but I felt her presence there.
Which was good, because Elliott stepped right through the doorway like the Las Vegas killjoy he was.
Same as his sister, he had tan skin, dark hair, and loads of height. Unlike Emily, he hadn”t coordinated with their uncle about using the condo for the weekend.
”You cannot be here,” Emily said, holding up her hand and silently snarling in that sweet way little sisters did to their big brothers.
Elliott ignored the snarl as he took in the situation, pausing briefly on me and then a touch longer on Angela. Probably because of the pink lipstick—it worked that well on her. I made a mental note to buy extra tubes for her birthday.
”What”re you doing here?” he countered, stepping into the room with another guy not far behind.
”Uncle Milo lent me the condo.” Emily blinked hard, as though it would help make her point.
Elliott pulled a face. ”Aunt Lisa said I could borrow the condo.”
”Well, crud, this is no good,” I said, hoping that might help slice up the tension into bite-size pieces. Blah. No matter how I sliced it, this scenario was unfortunate.
”Aunt Lisa gave us a key. We”re not leaving,” Elliott announced, already making himself at home on the sofa.
Uncle Milo and Aunt Lisa weren”t exactly known for their communication skills. I understood this because Emily, Angela, and I all spent loads of time together growing up, which meant family for one was family for all. Huzzah!
Of course, that meant everyone had a right to be in the space, and, it seemed, no one had a right to be there. Except the Elvis figurines.
The brother and sister began their standoff, even though everyone knew Emily would win. Elliott may have had the edge of negotiating for a living, but Emily had sibling law on her side. That law being that she was there first.
”Are we staying?” guy number three asked. A man with California tanned skin in a pressed polo shirt, slacks, and glasses I”d bet were only for style. He got a kick out of the brother and sister deadlock.
”Who are you?” Emily asked.
”Finn,” he said.
”Finn Taylor?” Angela said, pouting her pink lips like a lusty bunny in his direction.
He nodded.
”He plays offense,” Angela loud whispered to the rest of us.
”Ladies. Nice to meet you all.” Finn acted like the brother-sister standoff wasn”t happening and greeted each of us with a nod.
”Uncle Milo gave me the code to get in.” Emily kept her tone even.
”And Aunt Lisa gave me the key to get in,” her brother countered in his ”I”m Elliott, mega-big-deal-sports-agent” tone.
The guy seriously needed to scarf a fistful of chill pills and pull the stick out of his?—
”We were here first,” Emily clarified. Honestly, she wasn”t wrong. If possession was nine-tenths of the law, then we owned the joint. Which was why she”d win the argument.
”And we aren”t leaving.” Elliott crossed his arms.
Well, damn. That made it harder for everyone and quite the pickle.
Sloan let out a deeply annoyed breath. I could see why he”d be annoyed after the way TMZ slaughtered him, and now, he was without a place to stay in Vegas. His facial hair probably itched, too.
This wasn”t going anywhere quickly, so I looked at Sloan instead of listening to the brother and sister argue.
Not gonna lie. I licked my lips. Then I immediately stopped because even if he looked like a snack, I didn”t want to have to fix my lip gloss.
”No,” Emily said, louder. ”We”ve got plans. Go check in at a hotel.”
”Not happening.” Elliott shook his head. ”I booked the condo. We’re staying here.”
He must”ve realized he might not win this battle because his voice got higher pitched at the end. Emily would snag onto that weakness, figuratively grab him by the scruff of his neck, and shake him around until he cried…well…Uncle Milo.
”Maybe see if Mom and Dad will let you stay with them?” Emily made a sucks-for-you-but-doesn”t-really-suck-for-me expression.
”There”s plenty of room,” Angela said, chiming in from behind Emily with her perfected chirpy sunshine and a sly glance at Finn.
Elliott grumbled like a storm cloud at that, which was silly because Angela gave him what he wanted.
”We can share,” I said with a shrug. There actually was space. Four whole bedrooms. They”d have to bunk up, but there was plenty of sleeping area.
”I don”t mind sharing,” Angela added with a heavy dose of her pink smile.
Was it me or did Elliott”s eyes darken a teensy tiny touch at the smile?
”I mind,” he said, his jaw ticcing as he clenched his teeth.
Right, clearly, this wouldn”t be easy. It never was with him.
Whatever. I had been in time-out entirely too long, and that exile ended now. No way would I spend my night here watching this nonsense when I had a city to paint red.
”Look.” I gestured to the living room. ”It”s not like we”re going to be here very much. It”s Vegas, and there are cocktails to drink, poker to play, and shows to see.” I paused and made jazz hands. ”Let”s get to it.”
”My stuff”s already in the blue bedroom,” Emily said, brushing past her brother. ”Angela”s across the hall, and Maya”s next to her. You all can use the other room.”
Elliott made a pf-shaw sound.
”Not to worry. We all know that after three lemon drops, she”ll sleep anywhere. I”ll have her bunk with me,” Angela said to Elliott, following Emily.
”There are lemon drops?” Elliott somehow asked the innocent question and said it was a bad idea all at once.
”Not for me,” I assured him. ”One cocktail, and I”m done tonight.”
”Do you ladies feel like some company?” Finn asked, rubbing his palms together as a slow grin spread. ”I have a feeling we”ll have more fun with you around.”
How was that even a question? Moving on…
”You guys should come with us,” Angela said.
Emily stared death daggers at her.
”They said we should bring plus-ones.” Angela held her ground against Emily”s attitude.
”Will there be food?” Sloan asked, all casual-like, but with the underlying intensity of a guy who appreciated a good steak.
I moved beside him and lifted my hand as though painting a gorgeous picture full of happy accidents. ”There will be entire buffets.”
He gave me a funny look, but his eyes lingered a touch too long as the edges of his lips twitched.
On that thought, Emily cleared her throat.
Maybe we had been staring at each other entirely too long.
”If there are lemon drops, we”re in. I”m keeping an eye on you.” Elliott ran his hand over his face. ”I thought I only had to watch out for Sloan this weekend.”
”Your weekend just got busy,” Angela announced all cheery.
Elliott practically turned into a puppy running circles at her feet.
”If there”s food, I”m in.” Sloan followed Finn in Emily”s wake, his gaze pausing on me and raising my blood pressure just a smidge.
I was so twitterpated, I nearly followed him without thinking.
But wait, he couldn”t just go out in Vegas dressed like that, could he?
”Hold up,” I said, loud enough to get everyone”s attention.
”Yeah?” Sloan asked.
Flannel was nice and all, but this was Vegas, in the summer, and we were going clubbing. So what, I couldn”t have those lemon drops or the history of poor decisions that came with them? I could still get my dance on.
”Don”t you want to change or something?” I asked.
Sloan glanced down at the button-up shirt. ”What”s wrong with what I”m wearing?”
”Uh…” Technically, nothing. But it was hot as balls out there.
You know what, though? This was a problem for the future.
”Nothing.” I gestured him out. ”Let”s find that buffet.”