CHAPTER 1 DANNY
I head out with Rush and AJ against my better judgment, but we just won the fucking World Series a few days ago, and they’ve been all over me to celebrate, so I’m short on options.
I want to celebrate, too. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out with my friends, and I can’t use focusing on the season as my excuse tonight.
We head to the bar by the stadium first.
Bad call.
I keep thinking we should’ve just gone to Rush’s place to pre-party, but our stock has never been higher than this moment, and if I was the Danny of a few months ago, I’d be taking all the advantage that comes with that.
But I’m not.
I’m a completely different person, and I don’t want to go back.
Except my buddies don’t realize that.
I play into it a little for their benefit. I flirt with the ladies, but I don’t stick my tongue down their throats the way I spot AJ doing across the room. I don’t invite anyone back home with me—not that Rush or AJ do, either, considering this is just our first stop tonight.
Some walk away disappointed, but it is what it is.
After Rush and AJ get their fill of shots and ladies at our first stop, we head to a backroom high-stakes poker game. It’s by invitation only in a penthouse suite at a hotel on the Strip. It’s run by some lawyer who has a whole ring of these types of games, and it’s all very hush-hush.
It’s also very upscale and extravagant. Models walk around with trays of our preferred drink choices. Strippers perform while we play poker. High-end snacks are set up on a counter across the room as we overlook the famed Las Vegas Strip.
It’s like something out of a movie, but it’s actually my life.
And the Danny of seven months ago would’ve had a much better time than the Danny of tonight.
Instead of watching the strippers, I’m checking my phone while the dealer shuffles.
She hasn’t responded to my text.
Same hotel. Same room. I’ll be waiting for you Wednesday at 8.
I was going to add something about getting naked, but I didn’t.
Instead, I have ideas about that. She mentioned that she’d only have a couple of hours. She’s also mentioned before that she’s not very experienced when it comes to this type of thing.
We haven’t talked about whether or not that’s by choice, but I do get the very real sense that her father keeps a close watch on her. He hasn’t allowed her the opportunity to tarnish her image, regardless of what she wants.
I know she wants me, and I’ve already planned to make it the most romantic and satisfying night of her life.
But…what exactly does romance mean to a woman? Flowers and chocolate seem like the cliché answers. An internet search also told me candles.
I have a few other plans, too.
Focusing my attention on her. Tasting every gorgeous inch of her.
Showing her how I’ve been listening. Donuts and bacon. Champagne…and maybe coffee since she’s never tried it.
I’m racking my brain with other ways to impress her when Rush snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Dude, you’re up.”
Fuck.
This is high-stakes poker, and I really need to get my head in the game before I lose my ass.
I check what’s been bet and throw a couple of chips in to match it.
I lose.
And lose.
And lose.
Overall, it’s not going well, so once I’m down to a spot where I don’t want to lose anymore, I cash out.
I stroll by the buffet and help myself to some food, and that’s when one of the women our host hired sidles up beside me.
“Mr. Brewer, it’s lovely to see you. Can I interest you in some entertainment in one of the private bedrooms?” she offers.
“Thanks, but not tonight.” I offer a tight smile, and she takes the rejection well—as if she’s been trained not to react no matter what my response might’ve been.
I’ve actually never issued a rejection to an offer like that.
I spot Rush across the room eyeballing me.
He has a question in his eyes, as if he wants to know why I’m rejecting this gorgeous woman offering herself to me on a silver platter.
It’s made easy for us. There are four bedrooms attached to this suite, and these women are here to hook up with a celebrity. Maybe Rush or AJ will take her up on it when they’re out, or maybe she’ll snag one of the other dudes at the table.
But it won’t be me.
And with that in mind, I decide it’s time for me to skip on out of here.
I bid goodbye to Rush and AJ. I did my time with my buddies, and now I can leave.
Rush gives me the kind of look that tells me he’ll be calling me tomorrow with questions, but that’s tomorrow Danny’s problem.
Tonight Danny just wants to get the fuck out of here.
Tonight Danny wants to text Alexis and make plans for all the dirty things I plan to do to her sweet, sweet body in just under forty-eight hours.
As I make my way down the elevator, a text comes through from my sister.
Anna: I’m so sorry. I just saw the news.
My chest tightens at her words. It’s the kind of text nobody really ever wants to receive…particularly when said receiver is in the dark about what the fuck news she’s sorry about.
Me: What news?
Rather than replying like most normal people would, my phone starts to ring, and I see it’s my sister calling.
I’m stepping off the elevator as I answer the call. “What news?”
“About Alexis.”
“Alexis?” I repeat. All she knows about Alexis is what the rest of the world knows—that I kissed her after we won game six.
Maybe my mom told her more, or maybe not, but I haven’t said anything to her.
“What news?” I repeat. “Is she okay?” Fear ripples through me.
There’s news about Alexis, and my sister is sorry? What is the goddamn news?
“You haven’t heard?” she asks.
“Haven’t heard what, Anna?” Get to the fucking point already!
She pauses. “It’s all over the news. Alexis Bodega says yes to longtime boyfriend and manager Brooks Donovan,” she says as if she’s reading a headline.
“She says…yes?” I echo. Yes to what? To another tour? To another movie deal? To…
“She’s engaged,” Anna says softly, and as her words hit me while I step out of the elevator hallway and into the casino, the entire world feels like it’s spinning around me.
“She’s engaged?” I repeat.
“I’m so sorry, DJ,” she says, using her nickname for me.
“Thanks,” I murmur as I end the call and run a quick search of her name.
And sure enough, there in black and white, posted thirty-six minutes ago, is a photo of Alexis hugging Brooks. I can’t see her face, but I can see his, and he looks like the smug bastard he is.
My chest squeezes until it breaks.
For the third time in my life, it feels like my heart is breaking.
The first time was when I caught my dad. My heart broke for my mother.
The second was when I caught my brother-in-law. My heart broke for my sister.
But this?
This one’s all for me.