My friends, at least, were having a ball. Gavin was a good sport about losing games of chance, and Luca was a happy drunk, laughing at things that weren’t funny and making friends with everyone in a three-foot radius, even getting me to laugh a little when he befriended a group of retirees who were in town for a pickleball tournament. It was as the night was winding down, our exploration of the Strip reaching full circle, that someone actually caught my eye.
We were wandering a new area of the casino connected to our hotel, a wide room with blackjack tables and slot machines and even gaudier decor than the rest of this fake-gilded town, when I saw her. It didn’t even take Gavin or Luca pointing her out for me to notice this woman, and that startled me a little. Something about her presence, the glimpse of her pretty profile as we passed, caught my eye and wouldn’t let it go. She was standing around one of the blackjack tables. In fact, she was one of the only people around this particular table, save for a few straggling old men who looked like they practically lived exactly where they stood. From behind, all I could see was a slender body encased in a glittery turquoise dress, the color a stark contrast to the bright red-gold hair that twisted in loose curls down her back. I could hear her bright, excited voice ringing clearly through the space despite the ambient chatter. And that very same heart that was so battered and broken and still bloody gave a little twinge. Not a painful one either.
I hadn’t even processed the momentary return to my sanity when Gavin sniffed it out like a bloodhound. As my personal wingman, the self-appointed guardian of my heartbreak recovery, his head snapped in the direction of the woman playing blackjack, a slow smile breaking across his face. Luca spotted the redhead too, and let out a wobbly, half-drunk attempt at a low whistle.
“Oh, Cade,” Gavin said quietly, his eyes laughing with mischief. “Recent events notwithstanding, you haveamazingtaste.”
They didn’t even have to drag me along. Gavin just suggested we take the party in a blackjack direction, and my half-assed protests drowned themselves out. By this point, my buzz was strong enough to make me a little delusional. Not enough to think this woman would heal my broken heart, but just enoughfor me to think that maybe Icouldhave a rebound, and at the very least, it would make Jordyn a little jealous.
“We’ve got a winning streak on our hands,” warned the blackjack dealer as we sidled up to join the game of blackjack. The redhead smiled, shrugging in a way that was charmingly fake-humble.
“What can I say?” Her bell of a voice rose above the clamor. “It’s my lucky night.”
There was a twinkle in her blue eyes when they landed on me, and as if she knew exactly how to break my defenses, she threw me a cheeky wink. I felt something a little bitter join in my stomach when the butterflies started. Not the booze, or even the dread about losing some of my money to this woman’s lucky run of cards. No, it was something like guilt, or at least something just as illogical, that was vying with spine-tingling anticipation.
But by God, I stayed at the table, and I even felt myself starting to smile.
Allie
“Hit me!” I exclaimed to the man with the cards, and when he laid down exactly the number I needed, cheers erupted around me. My grin was huge as I bowed to my crowd of admirers, thinking how jealous my sorority sisters would be to see me now.
It was spring break, and the girls of Gamma Pi had gotten together to splurge for this ultimate Vegas getaway. But as was typical in my Greek life experience to this point, no matter how much they claimed to want to party, none of the ritzy girls were as down to hang as I was. Coming from money meant they played it safe in every possible way, or at least that was my theory. It was the main difference between me and the other sisters; I was a notoriousscholarship student.As nice as some of my favorite sisters could be, they were all from an upper echelonof society that didn’t mix with us lowly working-class folks. It made it hard for me to connect with them—or really, forthemto connect withme, no matter how much rosé we drank in the sorority house.
Well, screw them. Tonight, I was in a Vegas casino, and I was finally alone. I was drinking whiskey like I really wanted.
All the other girls had found reasons to complain about Vegas from the second we got out of the car. It wasn’t even that long of a road trip from our southern California town, but since Gigi’s Range Rover didn’t have the high-end plush leather seats or whatever the hell they were used to, Serena and Parker especially had been brats from jump. Then the casino was too loud, and the drinks were too strong, and eventually, all of the girls ditched the night of vice I’d been so looking forward to just to go see some washed-up pop star’s Vegas residency show. Then, they wanted to go back to drink champagne in our hotel room, instead of exploring anything else the Strip had to offer. It may have been late, but I hadn’t checked my phone since after nine o’clock when they all ditched me. And after an up-and-down journey at the slots, I’d finally found my rhythm with blackjack. No way I was stopping now.
Especially when, in the wake of my most recent success, three delicious male specimens walked up to the table, asking the dealer to be dealt in on the next round.
Perfect. Things were really going to get interesting now.
The three men were definitely around my age, and they were all clearly friends, here together on some kind of boys’ trip. Maybe their own frat had the same idea as the Gammas, or maybe it was a bachelor party. If the latter was the case, I’d guess the groom was the guy in the center of the trio, tall without being excessive about it, sporting a humble but sexy brown hair and short beard combo that nicely framed a gorgeous, old Hollywood kind of face. The dour expression he wore only heightenedthe effect of his hotness somehow, and it was also the reason I guessed he was a groom—someone entering into a lifelong commitment couldn’t be as carefree about it as his two friends seemed. Or maybe that was my own desire to sow my wild oats as long as possible coming through in my assumptions.
The friend who moved with the most purpose, like joining this table was his idea, was taller than the other two and just barely on the lanky side of hot. What he lacked in brawn, he made up for in sheer charm, unreal charisma radiating off him before he even opened his mouth. He had the black curls of Clark Kent and the dark, smoldering eyes of someone up to no good. He trained them on me, and a devastating smirk joined the pretty picture. I could sense that he was the ringleader of sorts—something about his pricy clothes, the effortless cool with which he carried himself. When I met his gaze unflinchingly, the tall man seemed to wordlessly communicate with his friends, giving them elbow nudges in a way that could have been subtle if I wasn’t paying so much attention. I’d always been surprisingly eagle-eyed when I was drunk. At least when looking for men.
Though neither of the tallest, richest guy’s friends seemed as gung ho about my presence as he did, the last guy of the three seemed almost shy about even acknowledging me, despite taking up the only place left at the blackjack table right beside me. This one was the shortest, about my height, thanks to my towering gold heels, and he may have been the prettiest of the bunch. Smooth, model-gorgeous features wrought in delectable honey-brown skin, lush lips with a jaw square enough he didn’t look at all feminine, and straight dark hair pulled back into an artfully messy bun at the back of his head. His shyness could have been part of his appeal too. I loved a challenge, be it a grumpy guy like the potential groom or someone who seemed too sweet to handle me. I’d always been a sucker for the boy next door type, maybe out of some secret desire to corrupt them withmy bad girl ways. I tried to pin Man Bun with a dazzling smile, and his own answering one was just as lovely, all white teeth and a bit of a dimple on one side. The way his cheeks flushed, his eyes ducking away right as I caught that they were a stunning hazel-green, made him downright adorable.
Oh, I was absolutely going back to one of these guys’ hotel rooms tonight. My prudish sorority sisters had left me alone, and the perk of that was that none of them could judge me for enjoying sex, for having a lot more of it than any of them ever dared. I’d spent every semester of school dodging their questions:But don’t you get tired of sleeping around? Don’t you want to find a nice boyfriend? Maybe get engaged?
None of them liked my answer: commitment was boring. And I wasn’t interested in anything but fun.
“Seems like you’re on a lucky tear,” the tallest guy, Mr. Charisma, drawled from across the way, opening the door to flirtation with just the heavy-lidded look in his eyes.
“Maybe so,” I agreed. “You looking to change that, or contribute?”
His answering laugh was low, painfully sexy. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of ruining your fun. But my friends here might need a little of your luck, if you can spare it.”
I looked first to the pretty man bun one, then to the one with the beard. The former shrugged, giving me a good-natured expression that seemed to say,I’d take some luck if you’re the one giving it.Hot Bearded One simply raised his thick brows in something like a shrug. I watched his tongue dart out to smooth over his lips, and fuck, it was hot enough and I was just horny-tipsy enough that I could have dropped to my knees at his feet, right then and there.
But that wasn’t the game we were playing. For most men, I’d learned the chase was a big part of my appeal. I wasn’t about to make it easy for any of them.
“Let’s see how you do on your own, and I’ll see about sharing.”
And that started us off on another round of blackjack. Another chance for me to win big, this time in more ways than one.
Soon enough, I had a good chunk of change racked up and was looking to quit while I was ahead. But that didn’t mean I was finished flirting with the three men who had cheered me on and checked me out through it all. I ordered another drink from a cocktail waitress, and as I started to make it look like I was leaving for the night, the tallest of the guys took the bait.
“You tapping out?” he asked as I downed the last of my rum and coke in one long gulp.
