Chapter Fourteen Adam #2
“No problem. And I would so super appreciate it if you didn’t press charges against him for the whole…” Her diamonds glitter as she does a little shadowboxing, finishing with a wince.
I nod. “Yeah. If you’re good, I’m good.”
Her face floods with relief. “Thank you. I’ve never seen him get angry like that. He’s really embarrassed about it now. As he should be.”
“Weddings are stressful,” Eleanor says carefully. “I get it—he wanted yours to be perfect.”
My gaze cuts over to Eleanor. Hearing the melancholy in her voice, I’m suddenly swarmed with guilt.
I’ve been so focused on the inconvenience of last night, and the fallout.
But for the first time, it occurs to me that we didn’t just get married last night.
We had a wedding. A shitty, unplanned, drunken ceremony that was probably nothing like the one Eleanor has dreamed about.
Followed by scraps of cake at a reception that wasn’t even ours.
One day she might get married again. And next time, she can get a beautiful dress, and flowers, and have her sister there, and I hope if that’s what she chooses down the road, it’s everything she wants it to be. Because she deserves it, and I took that away from her. Feels like shit.
“I’m really sorry about all this,” Andrea says.
“Hey, we’re sorry we crashed your reception,” I tell her. “I really hope we didn’t ruin anything… besides the ice sculpture.”
“Oh no. Honestly I didn’t even notice you guys until the sculpture fell. But it was late; the party was totally winding down anyway.” She grins broadly and gives us another wave before stepping back into the hall and letting the door fall shut behind her.
“Guess that’s settled, then,” Malcolm says, already gathering his tablet and pushing his chair in. “Thanks for your time.”
Eleanor and I get up before he changes his mind, and together we file out into the too-bright hallway. He leads us back to the door and leaves us on the casino floor.
Once we’re alone, we both hesitate, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which is somewhat absurd, because this is nowhere near the first bad thing to happen to us in the past twenty-four hours.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say finally. Eleanor is still clutching her half-empty water bottle, the weak plastic crinkling between her palms.
We walk out of the casino and through the lobby in silence, not stopping until we reach a stone pillar a dozen yards away from the entrance.
Outside, the sun is hanging lower in the sky than I expected, making all the artificial lights shine brighter.
It’s nearly five p.m.—we spent too long in the casino.
The band probably doesn’t have much downtime left.
If I don’t leave right now, I’ll miss my chance to see them at the brewery.
Eleanor leans against the pillar, watching as new guests arrive and bellhops move forward to help them unload their bags from the car. My gaze slips down to her tan legs, stretched out long and crossed at the ankle.
She meets my eye and smiles, so radiant it puts the city’s neon lights to shame. She pushes herself upright when I come to stand in front of her, and I shove my hands into my pockets so I don’t do something regrettable, like reach out to hug her.
I match her smile. “What a totally normal and relaxing day, huh?”
Eleanor snorts a laugh that turns into a groan partway through. She laces her hands together on top of her head, elbows pointing out. “At least we managed not to get arrested?”
“Yeah. I’ll take that win.” I bite my lip.
This feels like the last day of summer camp, like we’re gearing up for some great big goodbye.
Which is beyond ridiculous, because we’ll see each other at the show later tonight.
Still, it feels heavy, this moment. Not because Eleanor owes me anything, but because maybe I owe her.
“You know, I haven’t really apologized. You were right, this morning.
Not about everything…” Eleanor was awfully quick to blame me for what happened last night, and to be fair, it’s not like I forced her into any of it.
But she had a point. I came here and fucked with her meeting, and I did it on purpose.
“I was telling the truth when I told you I didn’t know who the band was having dinner with.
But only because I didn’t care enough to ask.
I was chasing a lead; that’s all I cared about.
I’m… not sure that makes it any better. So yeah, I’m sorry. ”
Eleanor breathes in, slow and deep. She nods once. “I’m sorry too. For giving you such a hard time earlier.”
I wave her apology away, not sure how necessary it is in the first place. We both gave each other a hard time—we’re even. Almost.
If I had my priorities straight, I’d tell Eleanor to head over to her hotel now.
I don’t need her help anymore. We’ve got the money—I can get my ID back, then go to the brewery to meet the band, like I’m supposed to.
But apparently my instincts are all fucked up, because they’re telling me we should stick together.
Which is absurd. We’ve spent the entire day together.
We should be sick of each other by now. Instead, I feel sick at the prospect of parting ways and going back to how things were before.
It’s possible my crush isn’t quite as dormant as I originally thought.
“Listen… I know you probably want to go decompress,” I tell her, “but I was actually about to head out to meet up with the band.”
It’s jarring, how quickly Eleanor’s expression shutters in the face of this information. “Oh.”
“You should come,” I say before she can get pissed all over again.
She shifts her weight and looks away from me.
“Seriously. It’s a casual thing at a brewery across town.” I tilt my head and bend my knees, trying to snag her gaze again. When she looks my way, I offer a grin. “What do you say?”
“Why are you even telling me about this? It’s your chance to win them over. That’s the whole point of you being in Vegas, isn’t it?”
I shrug. “More fun winning if we play fair.”
This earns me an eye roll and a bitten-down smile.
She rocks forward, until we’re standing toe to toe.
For one irrational, hopeful moment, I get the idea she’s going to kiss me.
Instead, she reaches up and taps my uninjured cheek with her palm—too gentle to be called a slap, too rough to be a caress.
Just enough to stoke the desire that’s been burning through me all day long.
“Cute that you think you still stand a chance.”