Then I remember she’s gone,andI’m pissed again.
As I take a few meditative breaths to calm myself down, I walk around the well-lit, expansive hotel room.
The room is nice. The guys went all out planning this bachelor party. Well, belated bachelor party.
Jake, our ‘groom’, for all intents and purposes, got married a few years ago, but they eloped. At first, we thought she may have been pregnant, but it turns out they just wanted to get married without the hassle that comes with the ceremony. Since neither of them have a large family, it worked out, and it was exactly what they wanted. Except for the fact that Jake never got his bachelor party, so fast forward to the present day, and here I am in Vegas with a non-groom-to-be and a total hard on for a stranger I know very little about.
Settling in, I unzip my suitcase, placing my toiletry bag with my shaving essentials in the bathroom. I remove some of the clothes I brought along and eyeball a couple of button-up shirts and my sports jacket, not knowing the exact plan since Seamus took on coordinating this whole thing himself.
Seamus is the most militant guy in our group. Literally and figuratively. He is the most structured routine guy I’ve ever known, and he’s an ex-Navy SEAL. Now, he does something for the government that he apparently can’t talk about because every time we give him shit for his job, he says it’s classified and drops it. I’d account his systematic routine lifestyle to his military training, except he was like that even as a kid.
He was the first in our group of friends that I met in grade school. We bonded over organizing and color coding ourcrayon box. I think our parents found us to be absolute lunatics, but a match made in best friend heaven for us. I’m close to all the guys, but Seamus has been through hell and back with me.
My phone rings in my pocket, and I know immediately it’s Seamus because he hates texting.
“Hey, Shay. I’m checked into the suite. Great pick, man.” I hit the speaker button before throwing my phone on the plush down comforter of the king bed in the bedroom I picked for myself.
“Glad you made it. I was worried when I got your text about your seat being bumped.”
“Me too. But I was able to get on the same flight. They just had to downgrade my seat.” Except I hit the fucking seatmate jackpot, so it was a complete upgrade in my book.
“Shay, with your, uh… connections. Would you be able to find someone for me? Nothing illegal or anything. Just like a phone number and address?”
“Yeah, easily. Who are you looking for?”
“A girl on the plane. She was… Well, she was fucking perfect. Her name is Ember.”
“Oh… interesting. Why didn’t you just get her number?” His confused tone mirrors mine. Which I can understand. I’m not shy and have no problem asking for a number. But he also knows I’m never serious about relationships or women in general. I’m not a total playboy, actually not one at all, anymore, and that was a crutch.
I’ve just never pursued anyone seriously since my last relationship, which was right after high school. So, needless to say, it’s been a while.
“Long story, man.” I run my palm down my face, scratching at the stubble on my jawline that’s beginning to invade too much space on my neck.
“What’s her last name?”
“I… don’t have it,” I squeak out.
“That’s a problem.” Well, don’t sugarcoat anything for me, fucker. We’re going to have to talk about his overly factual bedside manner at some point.
“I figured as much. It’s fine. I need to shower and shave before we head out. What’s the plan tonight?”
“We’re going to eat at the steakhouse at the hotel. Then we’ll head to a club tonight. Tomorrow night, we’re going toTemptation.” Some background chatter statics through the speaker. “Hud, I just got a taxi. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
He hangs up. Because he’s Seamus and he was done talking.
As much as I’d like to start Googling and stalking a certain redhead, this weekend is for Jake. To celebrate his… well, his pseudo bachelor party. This is the first time all the guys have been back together since our college days. We finally have the chance to give him the bachelor party we always wanted to, and it’s either going to be wild and we will either end up in jail or half dead, or we’re going to discover how old we really are and retire by midnight.
But I’m doubting the latter.
I walk around the suite that Seamus booked, and it’s huge. It has a large living area with multiple couches, a bar, and even a corner area with a stripper pole. A traditional bachelor pad used specifically for bachelor parties. There are four separate rooms, two that have their own bathrooms and another shared bathroom in the living space.
It’s far too much room for the five of us guys. Two of them will share a room, or Dane will just sleep on the couch because that guy is the most free spirited one of all of us. He can spontaneously do anything, and I’m not sure he’s ever experienced anxiety in his life. He just goes with the flow and doesn’t have an opinion about much of anything.
Voices trail in from outside my bedroom door, so I slip onmy shorts and exit the room to see who’s here. I’m certain it’s Seamus by now, but I have no idea what the flight plans were for the other guys.
Seamus and Jake are reuniting in the kitchen, giving each other a slap on the shoulder and half hug before they look up and see me.
“Huuuuud!” Jake rounds the luggage at his feet and pulls me in for a brotherly hug. “How was your flight?”
