Chapter 9
Jordan
This thing needs to go faster. And by faster, I mean it needs to move at the speed of light.
The elevator is not moving quick enough given I’m running ten minutes late to meet everyone.
We’re headed to an evening show filled with acrobats, performers, and I can only imagine what else.
I’ve been looking forward to this evening—like every other evening—since we booked it.
It won’t top today, though. I’m convinced nothing will top today.
I still can’t believe Liam rented a car, drove us four and a half hours away just so I could see the Grand Canyon, and then drove us all the way back. He even did all the driving. My only job, as per him, was to enjoy, and I did it to epic proportions.
There’s a downside to it, I realized on the way back to Vegas. Today was as perfect as he claims I am. What the hell am I going to do when Sunday comes, and I have to leave this all behind? How the hell are we supposed to go back to normal?
Not we. Me. Liam will be able to do it. Liam’s the King—pun intended—at that kind of shit. Leaving it in the past. I’m not sure I want to leave it in the past, even though I know I’m going to need to.
Shaking my head, my brunette waves bounce against my shoulders and down my back. “Stop thinking about it, Jor. Stay in the moment. In the present.”
It’s what I have to do to keep enjoying this. I’ll worry about leaving it all behind when Sunday comes. What I actually need to focus on is tonight. The here and now.
Knocking Liam’s socks so far off he’s going to have a hell of a time keeping his paws to himself all night.
But he’ll have to. He’ll need to be on his best behavior.
It’s something I’m counting on. If he has to stay on his best behavior then I’m hoping he’ll be on his worst behavior later when it’s just the two of us.
I think it’s a pretty good plan of attack.
It’s why I’m running late. When we got back from our day trip we only had an hour and a bit, and I needed a shower plus fresh hair. I made it in record time and I couldn’t be prouder of myself.
Even if I am late.
Glancing at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror, a smile as devilish as the devil himself graces my lips.
Yeah, I look as tantalizing as I feel. My gold chain, backless shirt hangs perfectly, flaunting the girls just as I intended.
The structured black shorts are understated and allow the shirt to do all the talking.
And the gold heels that Liam made me keep on the other night complete my look.
He's so screwed.
The elevator finally arrives in the lobby and I’m off in a dash. It’s not far to the casino bar, but it’s far enough in these shoes. Plus, it’s a lot more crowded than the previous two nights. Thursday night. All the weekend people are starting to arrive.
“Jordan?” I hear my name called over the ringing of machines all around.
Glancing over my shoulder, thinking someone just has the same name as me, a familiar face flashes in my line of sight, causing me to do a double take.
I freeze on the spot, half turned towards the blond man making his way quickly toward me with a smile that makes me feel sick to my stomach. No, he isn’t smiling. He’s leering, his eyes moving up and down my body in appreciation.
Paul.
I’d all but forgotten his bachelor party was in Vegas this weekend.
“I thought that was you. I’d never forget that flower tattoo on your shoulder,” he says, his eyes lingering on the space between my breasts.
A space that I suddenly wish I could remove from his vision by wrapping my arms around myself.
I knew I would be subject to stares in this shirt—hell, everything I’ve worn this week—but if I’d known I’d run into Paul tonight, I would have put something a lot less revealing on.
I feel dirty with him looking at me like this.
Shifting uncomfortably, I glance at a slot machine to my right, wishing I could disappear into the floor.
“You look downright delectable, Jor. Damn.”
The tone of his voice means one thing and one thing only. He’s horny and wants sex. I’ve been subjected to it a million times. At one time I craved it. I wanted him to look at me like this and sound like that at all times. It made me feel sexy, desired. Cherished even.
Now I want to vomit. He’s disgusting. He’s getting married for god’s sake!
That’s probably why he chose to have his bachelor party in Vegas, though, right? So he could cheat on her without consequence?
He takes a step toward me. “What are you doing in Vegas?”
I take a step back, maintaining the distance between us. “I, uh, it’s… it’s Nate’s wedding.”
Not only am I stumbling over my words, my heart is racing, and my hands are shaking.
My nervous system is preparing for danger, though Paul doesn’t present any besides the danger to my mental health, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
I hate it. I hate so much that this man has the power over me to have this kind of response; where I’m no longer in control of how my body reacts to him.
“Right. Sarah, right?” he asks with a pleasant enough smile. He doesn’t give a shit.
My jaw clenches before correcting him. “Savanna.”
“Right,” he snaps his fingers. “Real pretty thing.”
Taking a long, deep breath so I don’t show him how much that stings, because I can only imagine the things he thought back when we were together, I take another step back.
It doesn’t deter him.
“Are you staying here?” he asks, his eyes raking back down my body. It takes everything in me not to visibly shudder. “We should get a drink while we’re both in town. Catch up.”
Paul doesn’t want a drink. I can see his play from a mile away. How was I ever stupid enough to fall for it? Over and over again I fell for him and his shit. All he wants is to fuck me. Probably just so he can say he did, right before his wedding.
When I can’t find my tongue, I recognize how I fell for it all those times.
I could never think of something to say to him.
I could never even come up with the word no.
Especially not if he wined and dined me first. Even the times when I didn’t want to get back together with him, or sleep with him, I never knew how to say no.
I’m not sure it would have mattered if I did.
Suddenly I feel like the young girl in my bedroom at Nate’s party.
Knowing I don’t want to go any further but not knowing how to voice it.
I never realized until this moment the correlation between Paul and that situation.
Paul was my boyfriend. We were together for years. Who was I to say no to him?
The feeling of tears stings the back of my eyes as the thoughts come rushing in, overwhelming me. Threatening to crush me. I will not cry. I cannot cry. He doesn’t deserve anymore of my tears.
But that girl that was with him, and the one before her? She’s worthy of them. She’s allowed to have them.
An arm appears out of nowhere around my shoulders, dragging me into a warm body.
There’s no danger of me stumbling. The body holds me up as one of my hands comes into contact with a firm stomach.
At the same time, my eyes meet a pair of familiar light brown ones that belong to the sexiest firefighter I’ve ever met.
“Hey babe,” Liam grins at me, placing a kiss to the tip of my nose.
The second the words are out of his mouth my entire body sags against him. The tension created from running into Paul may have been the only thing holding me up before Liam came along.
“Hi,” I breathe, the relief tangible.
No words are needed between us. From the tilt of his chin to the lift of his lip, and the gleam in his eye. He’s got this. He’s got me.
His attention turns to Paul, and he holds up a finger. “Douchebag!” Liam exclaims in his cheeriest voice.
For half a second Paul sputters. “Wh-what the fuck did you just say?”
There’s one thing Paul hates and that’s to be challenged.
Through our entire relationship, I kept everyone I knew from confronting him because I knew I would never hear the end of it.
I sheltered him from so much. Maybe if I hadn’t, he would have treated me better.
Or maybe things would have ended sooner.
“Paul, right?” Liam self-corrects with a smile that says Paul heard him correctly the first time.
Paul’s eyes move between the two of us, his finger waving back and forth. “What is this? The two of you are together now?”
Liam doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he tugs me closer to his side, planting his lips against my cheek.
I turn my head toward him, wishing more than anything he would kiss the hell out of me so I would forget everything about this moment.
He can read it in my eyes, but instead of giving me what I want—need—his fingertips touch my chin, and he gives me a smile unlike his signature grin. This is soft. Tender. Unguarded.
It feels like this smile is just for me. Like no one else has ever seen it.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Paul spits irritably, a tinge of venom in his voice. “Jordan, you realize how many women this idiot has been with? It’s got to be five hundred.”
With more patience than I would have given him credit for, Liam’s eyes close and he takes a breath. When they open again they’re full of ire, and he turns them on Paul.
The scary thing, seeing the rage in his eyes, is how calm and smooth his voice is when he speaks. “Which makes Jordan five-o-one.”
The smile that crosses Liam’s face and touches his eyes is sinister.
It’s like all those times that he had to be held back from punching Paul in the face are coming out to play.
It worries me enough that I want to look around for Nate, or Brody, or someone that may be able to pull Liam off Paul if it came to that.
But he surprises me.
His fingertips touch my chin again, his attention back on me, the smile—the one only for me—back in place. “All it takes is one perfect woman to make a guy want to change his entire life.”