Viva Las Vegas, baby!
The rush of adrenaline pumping through my veins makes me understand why people love Vegas so much. I mean, I’ve just barely gotten off my plane from LAX, and I’m an official winner.
But now, the big question remains. Do I stay or do I go?
Do I keep playing? Or do I cash out my winnings and head up to my room to take a shower and a nap before I have to get ready for my work party?
I mean, you did just get off an early morning flight from LAX and probably smell like sweat and stale pretzels…
“Don’t get too cocky,” a man says from over my shoulder, making me whip my head around. He’s cute in a seriously obvious way with his playful light brown-blond hair and big smile, but the glaze in his eyes makes it equally apparent how drunk he is. “Trusts me, Lady Luck loves to hit cocky shits in the balls. I know because I’m one of ’em.”
Raucous laughter follows him in the form of two more almost heinously attractive men, one of whom is curiously holding a hand over his eyes.
“Ty,” the dark-haired one says, “stop bothering people.”
“Who’s he bothering?” the one covering his eyes asks, earning a smack to the back of the head from his dark-haired counterpart.
“Just uncover your eyes, Jude. I’m pretty sure Sophie knew you were going to have vision when you came here. You’re not cheating, for fuck’s sake.”
“Sophie is a goddess,” the man recites then, making me smile big for the first time during this interaction. They’re all drunk, which can be intimidating for a woman on her own, but they’re funny too, and I take that as a good sign.
Maybe my relaxed state is why I’m so caught off guard when a fourth man approaches, but perhaps it’s because he immediately strikes me as different.
Given his strong jaw, swirling ocean-blue eyes, perfectly messy dark hair, and a body that looks fit and trim beneath his jeans and white shirt, there isn’t a single cell inside me that’s upset by his presence.
I quirk an amused eyebrow in his direction as I address the first man, the playful one I now know is named Ty. “So…you’re saying I should cash out before this slot machine can eat up all my winnings?”
Mr. Reserved doesn’t say anything, but I swear his mouth almost hitches up at the corners.
“Yep,” Ty answers, a little too loudly for our close proximity. “But no matter what you decide,” he continues and places one single black casino chip in my hand. “It’s my patriotic duty to make you leave here a winner.”
“Patriotic duty?” I question, and he just winks. The other two drunk companions burst into laughter, but my eyes, they jump to the fourth man—the one who’s yet to say anything.
I glance down at the chip in my palm. Holy shit. Five hundred dollars? It sure seems like Lady Luck likes my balls just as they are.
“Wow. Thank you. This is beyond generous, and I’m not sure I can acc—”
“Yeah, you can,” the man interrupts me with a sway and a smile. “I’m not paying you for sex or nothin’。 Just doin’ my patriotic duty.” He punctuates that statement by saluting me as if I’m a soldier in uniform, and it spurs a giggle to jump from my lips.
“Jesus,” the dark-haired one chastises, grabbing Ty by the shoulder and pulling him farther away from me. An apologetic smile crests his lips when he meets my eyes. “I wish I could say he’s never like this, but I’d be lying.”
“Remy’s right,” Ty agrees with a lazy grin. “I am, in fact, always this charming and resistible.”
“Resistible?” Jude, the man who is still covering his eyes, bursts into laughter. “I might be blitzed, but I think that’s the wrong word, my man.”
“Nah, I think it’s the perfect word,” Remy, the tallest and not-quite-as-drunk one, comments with a big grin.
So far, through this crazy conversation that I’m only half involved in, I’ve gathered three out of the four men’s names—Ty, Jude, and Remy.
Which only makes me more curious about the most reserved one of their group. He has yet to say a word, but somehow, his presence is the most undeniable. He’s confident without uttering a word or showing any sort of obvious expression. And for some reason, that only makes me more intrigued.
I almost open my mouth to ask him his name, but the raucous ringleader and the gifter of my chip performs a deep bow, saying, “My lady, I bid you adieu.”
The other two start to laugh, but after a silent command from the fourth stalwart companion, they turn away and leave, stumbling slightly as they walk.