Chapter 7
Clarke
I’m the world’s biggest idiot or the world’s biggest pushover. Until today, I’d never considered myself either of those things. So why did I agree to stay married to Will for three months? I could have said one, just enough to help us save face with the media.
Three months! That was like an eternity with Will. And why did I ask for something real when I wasn’t interested in a relationship with him? What a moron. I thought I’d screwed up marrying the player. It turns out that making this deal was an even bigger mistake.
And now I had to go through with it. No matter how much something bothered me, I persevered. I pushed through and saw it until the bitter end.
So that’s what I will do.
Will did not know my real life, only the parts I showed him. Reporters would hound us, asking hundreds of questions about our relationship. How in the hell were we going to pull this off? I didn’t even know anything about him that wasn’t available on Google.
Will held my hand as we talked to the security guard at the Bellagio. Fear shook through me at the thought of my story getting out. My boss would kill me.
This was my chance to be noticed for my talents, not my father’s legacy. I’d lived in his shadow for too many years and was ready to enter the spotlight. But now, I’d hitched myself to another famous man. Another person who would block out my light.
Will stroked my fingers when the man told us no one had returned my cell phone. Of course, they hadn’t. This was a long shot. How many honest people came to a place like Vegas? Someone probably found it and sold it to play another hand of blackjack.
After he thanked the man, Will led me toward the hotel exit.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll find your phone.”
“I wish your optimism was infectious.”
He shot a smile at me. “Maybe my good luck will rub off on you.”
“You think you’re lucky?”
“I know I am.” He pushed up his shirt, revealing his six-pack as he wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Wanna rub my cock for good luck?”
I snorted with laughter. “It’s not a rabbit’s foot, you idiot.”
“No, but I made you laugh.” He lowered his shirt as we walked outside. “Relax a little, would you? I hear being uptight all the time leads to a shorter life span.”
“And where did you hear that?”
He shrugged. “For someone who had multiple orgasms last night, you’re so tense.”
“I can’t even remember last night to know if I had multiple orgasms.”
“Please, we both know you did.”
“How so?”
“Name a time I didn’t give them to you.”
He had me there.
I pursed my lips, keeping my eyes on the Vegas strip.
“You know I’m right. So, lighten up already. We won’t survive three months like this.”
“I’m not the cold-hearted bitch you think I am.”
“No? Could have fooled me with all the pity parties you throw whenever I’m around.”
“Maybe it’s because I don’t like you,” I said matter of fact.
“Nope. You try not to like me. It pisses you off that you like me. And you do everything in your power to convince yourself of that.”
Maybe he was right. A long time ago, I thought I was in love with Will. It was too soon after my divorce, and I was desperate for a man’s attention and affection. I just wanted him to love me. For someone to love me. And that was the problem.
“I don’t know how to be around you when I’m sober,” I confessed.
“Just try being yourself. I like you when you’re not all up in your head and getting weird on me.”
“I do not know what that means.”
“You’re all business all the time.”
“I take my job seriously.”
“Well, you’re not working right now, wifey. So lower your walls a smidge.”
I breathed deeply as we dodged a group of drunken boys. They looked too young to drink, let alone be on the strip by themselves at this hour.
“Reminds me of my twenty-first birthday,” Will said as we passed them. “I came here with a few of my teammates from college. We drank our weight in beer for an entire weekend.” He smiled at the memory. “Good times.”
“You still do that, and you’re almost thirty years old.”
“Not quite,” he challenged. “I’m a saint during the season.”
“Really? Then how come I saw you in pics with three women at a club in Seattle a few months ago?”
He waved his hand. “That was nothing. Just a few fans.”
“They were on your lap. One girl had her tongue shoved down your throat.”
Will looked at the street crowded with taxis. Why were so many people out at this hour? I would have thought they would sleep off their hangovers until the afternoon.
“Look, Clarke, I won’t bullshit you. I have earned my nickname. But I want to make this work. I need this to work between us.”
“I feel like I’m getting the shitty end of the deal.”
“You get me. Isn’t that good enough?”
I rolled my eyes.
“We’re good together,” he insisted. “You don’t see it, but I always have. And when you’re not mad at me, you look really pretty.”
“Stop trying to charm your way into my pants.”
“I don’t need charms to get you out of those granny panties.”
I snickered. “I do not wear granny panties, thank you very much.”
“Then what do you call those things you always wear?”
“Boy shorts. They’re comfortable.”
“Time to step out of your comfort zone, baby.”
“You’re not even seeing my underwear. So shut your mouth.”
“Please. We’re married. You think you’ll last three months without fucking me?”
“Wanna find out?”
He smirked. “New deal?”
“Oh, yeah. Whoever can hold out the longest wins.”
“I’m down. What’s at stake?”
“You can’t jerk off,” I told him. “If we’re doing this, neither of us can have an orgasm.”
“Fuck,” he grunted. “Fine. Whatever. I try not to orgasm during the season, anyway.”
I shot him a confused look. “Why not?”
“Because orgasms make me tired. And too much dopamine fucks with my stamina when I’m on the ice.”
“There’s no way you can go an entire season without sex.”
“I don’t.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Then what’s the secret?”
“You can have sex and not orgasm.”
“So, you don’t come?”
“I do. You can have a release without an orgasm.”
“Women invented faking orgasms,” I pointed out.
“You never faked it with me.”
I gave him a challenging look. “How would you know?”
“Because I know your body like my own.”
We were silent momentarily before I asked, “What were you like in high school? I bet you had lots of girlfriends.”
After all these years and a fake marriage, we should get to know each other. The media would ask about our relationship and pick apart every detail of our lives.
“Nah,” Will muttered. “Just girls I fucked.”
“You were Romeo even back then?”
He rolled his shoulders. “It’s always been easy for me. I never had to put in any effort.”
“Then how come you’ve never stopped pursuing me?”
“Because you challenge me, Clarke. No one has ever gotten under my skin the way you do.”
“So, you like me because I won’t drop to my knees for you.”
He laughed. “You do that, too. It’s just different when you do.”
“I hate you,” I groaned. “You annoy me.”
“It’s true. Just admit it. The night we met, you were begging for my cock.”
“That’s the point of a one-night stand.”
“Like I told you that night, it was fate.”
“Idiot,” I muttered. “There’s no such thing.”
“I’m not your dad or your ex-husband, Clarke. So stop treating me like I’m them.”
We had a while until we reached the New York-New York Hotel on foot. Sweat slid down my forehead from the blaring sunlight. Vegas was hot as hell.
I stopped at the curb. “I’m hailing a cab.”
“It’s not that much farther,” Will said.
My hand shot in the air as I hung off the curb’s edge.
After years of living in Manhattan, I had gotten used to flagging down cabbies. Everyone used Uber, but I was happy that Vegas was still old school.
A yellow cab pulled up beside us, and we hopped inside. Will slid across the bench, his muscular thigh pressing into mine. His body was so hard and warm. For a second, my thoughts drifted, and then the cab driver spoke.
“Where to?”
I snapped out of my head and said, “New York-New York.”
He nodded, then drove toward the hotel.
“Seems kind of convenient,” Will said. “Don’t you think? We met in New York. You showed me your party girl side for the first time in years at the hotel that bears the same name.”
“Being around you makes me want to get drunk,” I shot back. “Not fate… if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I was joking when I said that, you know.”
“I know. But you always bring it up.”
“What chance would I see you again after you left New York? And then, of all places, you end up working at The Philadelphia Inquirer with my sister? If that wasn’t fate bringing us back together, I don’t know what to call it.”
“You were right,” I confessed. “I like you. But I don’t want to.”
“Nothing wrong with us getting to know each other.”
There were lots of things wrong with sharing myself with a man.
My body was one thing… but my heart? I could not handle the thought of giving all of myself to another man.
It terrified me to let Will into my heart.
When you love someone, it gives them power over you.
They can break you. And I’d let men break my heart too many times.
“I’m not ready,” I said after a long pause. “Let’s just see how this living situation goes.”
Will squeezed my hand against the leather bench. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”
I smiled, a real one for once. He seemed convinced we shared something special, and I wondered if he was right.
We sat silently until the cab driver stopped in front of New York-New York. Will handed the man money, and we climbed out of the car, moving toward the casino.
“Do you remember if I had my phone at Coyote Ugly?” I asked him.
“No. You were on the bar most of the time.”
“This is a long shot. I doubt I lost it here.”
He shrugged. “Worth a shot.”
After two hours of searching various places in Las Vegas, we ended up at the same chapel where we got married.
We strolled into the deserted building, where a man dressed as Elvis Presley sat on a folding chair in the last row of the chapel.
He dangled a black dress shoe off his foot as he stared at his cell phone.
From the looks of it, he was playing a video game, cursing under his breath.
“Hey, King,” Will said to fake Elvis.
The man glanced up at us, and then his eyes widened. “You two. I never thought I’d see you again. Last night…” He rose from the chair and pocketed his cell phone. “You guys tore this place apart.”
My eyes scanned the room that needed a makeover and a little TLC, but otherwise, it seemed okay.
“What do you mean?” I choked out.
“You had everyone in the chapel singing and standing on chairs,” Fake Elvis said. “Passing around beers and chanting for the Flyers.”
“Oh, my God,” Will muttered. “Get the fuck out of here. You’re joking, right?”
Elvis shook his head. “Afraid not.”
Will blew out a deep breath. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“Did you find my cell phone?” I asked. “I think I may have lost it here.”
Elvis nodded. “Someone turned in an iPhone with a black and pink case last night.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “That’s my phone. We’ve been all over Vegas looking for it.”
“Give me a sec,” Elvis said before he walked toward the back of the room and into an office.
“Thank you,” Will said as our eyes met.
“For what?”
“Bailing me out of this. I didn’t know we were that bad last night. Olivia is going to kill me when I see her.”
“Girl of the week? Or your publicist?”
I loved to tease him.
He snickered. “I don’t have a girl of the week.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I meant girl of the hour.”
Will rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m going to show you, woman. I’m going to be the best husband you ever had.”
“A husband without the perks.”
“Which reminds me, you never set the terms of our new deal. No sex, no jerking off, no orgasms. I can do that, no problem. But what does the winner get?”
As his words sunk in, I realized we needed to up the stakes. “If I win, you’re my slave for a month.”
He laughed. “Sex slave? I can get down with that.”
“Nope. Like a house servant. You’ll have to cook, clean, and wait on me for a month.”
“Done.”
“We have to sleep in the same bed. Like a real married couple.”
“So? I’m good with that.”
“You’re so going to lose this bet, Romeo.”
He sank to my height, his lips inches from mine. “I’m going to win. And when I do, we’re fucking for an entire month straight. No work. No breaks. Nada. And by the time I’m done, you will never want to leave me.”
So that was it.
I was his end game.
But was I ready to play?