3. Amelia
Amelia
“How do my tits look in this?” Cassie asks, pushing up her breasts until they’re almost spilling out of her skintight dress. I don’t know how she’s going to not sweat to death in her outfit. Add in the stiletto heel, and she’s going to be miserable.
“Big,” I tell her after a quick glance. “Really big.”
“What she said,” Lyra adds as she fixes her lipstick in the mirror of the elevator.
“You should’ve worn that pink tank top,” Cassie says to me, her eyes traveling down my outfit.
“I’m good.” I went for comfortable instead of flashy. My goal wasn’t to catch Reed’s eye, although I think I already have. If I couldn’t stay in my room and relax tonight, I refused to wear something that suffocated me and made my breasts spill out if I dared to bend over. “I feel cute.”
“You’re always cute,” Lyra says to me. She’s a great hype girl. I could wear a bag, and she would tell me I wore it well. “Those jeans make your ass look fabulous.”
The skintight mid-calf jeans are surprisingly comfortable and have a ton of stretch. And the black silk off-the-shoulder tank top is perfect for the heat of the desert. Instead of flats, I went with one-inch espadrille wedges with black straps that hug my ankles.
“I’m getting lucky tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”
My head snaps in Cassie’s direction. “You’re going to sleep with him? You’ve known him one day.”
“I won’t be sleeping,” Cassie tosses back as she fingers the ponytail hanging over her shoulder. “Vacation hookups are the best.”
“I’m not sleeping with Dustin,” Lyra says, “but you do you, boo.”
“You never know what’s going to happen,” Cassie replies. “Don’t say you won’t, because you never know.”
“Are you going to sleep with Reed?” Lyra asks me, ignoring Cassie.
I shrug. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s not a no,” Cassie says with a smirk. “My girl.”
“I don’t plan on it, but…” I shrug.
“Reed is so damn hot,” Lyra says. “Dustin’s cute, but he’s not my typical type.”
“You’re not dating him,” Cassie tells her as the elevator dings when we make it to the lobby. “You’re banging him. Who cares if he’s your type.”
As the elevator doors open, Cassie says, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Get your orgasms, ladies.” She steps out, leaving Lyra and me behind.
“Here we go,” Lyra says, following Cassie. “Have some fun tonight, Amelia. You deserve it.”
My friends think I take life too seriously. I’m always the Debbie Downer of the group, but Cassie and Lyra would make the most voracious party girl seem tame at times. If we hadn’t been friends since elementary school, I’m not sure they’d give me the time of day.
I follow my friends out into the lobby and look around at the endless sea of people.
Cassie has her body wrapped around Cliff, and Lyra’s already in deep conversation with Dustin.
And tucked in between the two couples, Reed’s leaning against the wall, one boot flat against it, gaze pointed straight at me.
My breath catches as our eyes lock. Part of me wants to turn around and run back into the elevator.
Have some balls, Amelia.
The voice in my head is Tate’s. She’s been my hero since I was a little girl. I looked up to her and wanted to be just like her, but somehow, I’ve completely missed the mark.
Why am I so nervous? Reed’s been nothing but a gentleman, even when he teased me. He hasn’t tried to touch me and hasn’t tried a move that made me feel uncomfortable.
Reed pushes off the wall, never breaking eye contact as he makes his way toward me. “You look amazing,” he says, his voice sliding over me like velvet.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I tell him, my eyes skating over his body. The man has muscles everywhere. He looks like he could toss me around as easily as he could a bale of hay. His body is built by hard labor and not hours inside the gym.
“Ready for some fun?”
I want to say no to be difficult, but I can hear my internal Tate berating me before I have a chance. “When in Vegas,” I say instead.
Reed holds out his hand. It’s a gentlemanly move and catches me by surprise. “Let’s do this, then.”
I stare at his hand only for a moment before I slide my palm against his. The skin isn’t soft. It’s like he’s never used hand cream a day in his life. The meaty parts near the base of his fingers are covered in old calluses, but all of that’s forgotten as he closes his fingers around my hand.
The one thing no one tells you about Vegas is nothing is close. Even spots within our own resort can be a hike. This isn’t a hotel. It’s a mini city with everything someone could need without ever setting foot off-property.
Cassie and Cliff lead the way. His arm is slung around her shoulders, and hers is snugly around his middle.
They’re stuck to each other like glue, which isn’t anything new for Cassie.
She loves men and doesn’t let anyone make her feel any shame for living her life the way she wants to.
She makes no apologies, and I love that most about her, even if I can’t be the same way.
Lyra and Dustin are in the middle, neither one of them touching the other. Dustin’s leading the entire conversation with her as we make our way to a bank of elevators on the other side of the lobby.
“Do you like to dance?” Reed asks, his hand still holding mine. The contact doesn’t feel weird or forced. If I’m honest with myself, it feels nice and oddly comfortable.
“I’m a horrible dancer.” My stomach twists at the thought of dancing in front of him. I’ve always had two left feet, but Cassie and Lyra have learned to ignore my weird movements. “The more alcohol I have, the better I am, though.”
Reed chuckles. “Maybe we can change that tonight without you getting drunk again.”
“I hope so,” I say with a sigh. “I don’t want a hangover again.”
Reed bumps me with his shoulder and releases his hold on my hand. “If that happens, I promise to meet you in the cabana first thing tomorrow with bottomless mimosas.”
“You just like lying in the cabana,” I tease.
“I liked the company more,” he says as the doors to the elevator open and everyone walks inside.
Reed stays behind me, letting me get in first. I nearly melt into a puddle when he places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me into the overly crowded car. Damn. Something so small and meaningless shouldn’t make my belly do a somersault.
He slides his warm hand into mine as the elevator doors close and we’re sealed inside. I’ve taken hundreds, or maybe even thousands, of elevators in my lifetime, but never one that moves as fast as this one. It’s like being on an amusement park ride, but without the thrill.
“I’m buying the first round of shots,” Cassie announces to our group. “Lemon drops.”
“How original,” I mutter, earning a squeeze from Reed’s hand.
“What’s your favorite shot?” Reed asks.
“I don’t love shots.”
“Favorite martini, then.”
“Anything sweet,” I tell him, ignoring the speed at which we’re soaring toward the roof. “If I had to pick one, it would be a warm apple pie martini.”
“What the hell is that?” he’s quick to ask.
“It uses apple cider. It’s the perfect fall or winter drink.”
“I doubt they have apple cider here. Wrong season and weather. What’s your other favorite?”
“Are you going to drink one too?” I ask him.
“I’ll have everything you do. Drink for drink.”
“It’s the perfect weather for a watermelon martini.”
“That’s where we’ll start,” he says.
“You sure you don’t want beer?”
He shakes his head as the elevator dings, and the doors slide open.
The hot night air hits us as soon as we step out onto the roof.
Not only is my mouth dry, every inch of my skin feels like I need to bathe in lotion but is somehow covered in sweat too.
I hate the weather in Vegas. Give me seasons, humidity, and a good thunderstorm any day over the dry, lifeless air here.
“Nope. I’m having whatever you’re having.”
The music is loud, and the rooftop is full of people, dancing and not giving a shit about anything except having fun. Even though a little part of me still wants to go back to my room, the other part of me wants to let my hair down and have the time of my life.
Be young, Amelia. Ride that cowboy.
I push away Tate’s voice. I’m not ready to ride Reed, but I can be young and have fun. Another night of drinking with the hot cowboy wouldn’t hurt, right? In a few days, I’ll be back home, curled up with a book, but I can always look back on the trip and smile.
I am ready for fun. I deserve it. How many times in my life would a real-life sexy cowboy want to drink watermelon martinis with me? Never again, and I can’t let this chance pass me by.
“Martinis, it is,” I tell him, hooking my arm with his. “Let’s do this, cowboy.”
“That’s my girl,” he says, and I let the comment slide.
I’m not his, but for once, I can pretend I am.
The guys go to the bar to get us drinks while Cassie, Lyra, and I hold a seating area with two couches and small tables.
“I’m so getting laid tonight,” Cassie says, reiterating her earlier statement.
“We know, Cassie. We’re happy for you, girl,” Lyra tells her, but her tone is completely bored.
“Are you going to sleep with Reed?” Cassie asks me.
“No. I’m not in the headspace for that.”
“Headspace?” Lyra laughs. “You overthink sex way too much. It’s an orgasm, Amelia.”
“It’s more than that,” I tell her and, by extension, Cassie too. “I’ve never been a one-night stand kind of girl.”
“That’s why you’re still in single digits,” Cassie says, twisting her lips like it’s ridiculous that my body count is so low.
“So?” I snap. “It’s not a competition. It’s not like I’ll get a gold star once I reach double digits. I can’t have sex without my heart being in it.”
“You can still fool around. A little over-the-clothes action never hurt anyone,” Lyra tells me.
I let my gaze wander across the rooftop until it lands on Reed’s behind. “Maybe,” I whisper, wanting nothing more than to see the guy completely naked.
I bet he’s a work of art. I’d already seen so much of him by the pool in his swim trunks. The only parts I haven’t laid eyes on are his ass and his cock. I have no doubt he is as hung as the bulls he has on his ranch. No man his size and with his self-assured personality has a tiny penis.
“I challenge you to have an orgasm. Clothes or no clothes is entirely your choice. If you don’t have an orgasm tonight, you’ll owe me a hundred bucks,” Cassie says, knowing I have the inability to back down from a challenge or a bet.
“You’re on,” I tell her.
“You can’t give it to yourself, though,” she adds.
“Fine,” I say, even though she ruined my entire plan.
A night of dancing with Reed, along with a hefty number of martinis, and I have zero doubt I’ll need a release by the end of the night.
“You’re on, Cassie,” I add. “One orgasm.”
“You’re going to pay her to come?” Lyra says with a scowl. “I want that bet for me.”
“She needs one. You don’t,” Cassie says to Lyra.
“I do not,” I argue.
“You need one night in the arms of a hot cowboy. We’re only young once, and I want you to have some wicked stories to tell someday in the nursing home,” Cassie says.
“You only live once,” Lyra adds. “Soon, we’ll be old, with saggy tits and wrinkles. We’ll need the memories to carry us through.”
“You two are depressing as fuck,” I tell them, wiping a trickle of sweat from my neck.
“For once, live life off the pages of your favorite book. Have a night that’s worthy of a few chapters,” Lyra says, using my language against me.
Reed turns around from the bar, two bright-pink drinks in his hands. The cowboy looks cute carrying such dainty glasses in his giant hands.
I can’t take my eyes off him as he walks my way, smiling. The look on his face is filled with possibilities, and for once, I’m not going to let myself get in the way. I am young, and I decide to act like it. I won’t overthink anything for tonight only. It is about fun, and I am ready for it.
“Milady,” Reed says as he hands me one of the watermelon martinis before he takes a seat next to me. “What should we drink to?”
“To fun,” I tell him, holding my glass up to him. “Are you ready for some?”
“Hell yeah,” he says, clinking his glass against mine. “We’re about to have the best night ever.”