Total pages in book: 296
Estimated words: 284055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1420(@200wpm)___ 1136(@250wpm)___ 947(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 284055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1420(@200wpm)___ 1136(@250wpm)___ 947(@300wpm)
Once we’ve checked our bags and made it through security, Avery and Chelsea drag us to a little cantina by our gate for pre-flight drinks. I try to pace myself, but it’s useless when they keep ordering rounds of shots. By the time we’re called for boarding, we’re all two sheets to the wind and giggling about God knows what. Summer’s grinning wide as we patiently wait for the attendant to scan our tickets, and I haven’t seen her this happy in a long while.
After she got engaged, she became more serious, saying she needed to start acting like an adult. Essentially, she took etiquette lessons from my mother on how to be a good wife. It kinda makes me sad how manipulative they’ve been.
“Are you ready, sis?” Summer asks after we find our seats and buckle. Looking out the window, I feel my excitement nearly bubble over.
I turn and look at her with a huge smile on my face. “Ready to make memories of a lifetime!”
She squeals and so does the rest of the bridal party. Right then, I vow not to think about my parents, Benjamin, or anything back in Phoenix. This weekend is about experiencing Vegas and living life to the fullest.
CHAPTER THREE
RILEY
Time zones confuse the shit out of me, especially when my internal clock is on ranch hand time—up at the ass crack of dawn and in bed before midnight. I left at four, was on a three-hour flight, and landed at five.
After we grab our shit, Diesel and I make our way to the hotel. Instead of renting a car, we use a shuttle to drop us off on Las Vegas Boulevard. I’m in awe as I look around at the buildings, bright lights, and all the tourists strolling the sidewalks. I can’t fucking wait to go out tonight.
“Aw shit!” Diesel says, beaming. “We’re gonna tear this place up. Ooh wee!” he yells, bringing attention to the two of us, not that we needed any. Considering we’re both wearing cowboy boots and hats in the middle of the busiest street in Vegas, we’re doing just fine without all that.
“Oh my God! A cowboy!” a drunk woman says, stumbling toward Diesel with her tits on display. “Can I take a picture with you?”
“Sure, sweetheart!” Diesel obliges, smiling big.
“Wait, is the accent real?” She looks at him suspiciously, and he eats up the attention.
“As real as your pretty face.” He’s laying it on good, making sure to thicken up his drawl.
“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous. Can we go now?” I ask, holding my carry-on suitcase like someone’s gonna steal it.
“You’re a cowboy, too?” Her eyes go as big as saucers as her friends giggle.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we gotta go.” I finally grab Diesel’s arm and pull him away.
“You’re such a party foul!” He whines all the way to the front counter of the hotel.
“The party can’t start until we drop our shit off in the room. So quit your complainin’,” I tell him before we check in and take the elevator to the top floor. When we enter the room, he opens the curtains, then walks out on the balcony to take in the view.
“Vegas! I’m gonna make you my bitch tonight!” he screams out into the vastness, and I chuckle at his obnoxiousness.
“I’m gonna shower. Try not to get into too much trouble in the next ten minutes, alright?” I open the minibar, find a little bottle of whiskey, and chug it in one big gulp. It burns going down, but I already know I’m gonna need a lot more than that.
“Big D!” I yell as I walk toward him. “You should go to the liquor store and get us some whiskey to pregame. I’ll buy.”
“In that case, I’m gettin’ a bottle the size of Texas,” he says as I hand him some cash.
“We’re gonna need it,” I tell him, walking to the bathroom.
“I’m on it.” Diesel’s out the door without another glance, and I step into the shower.
Chuckling to myself, I think about Diesel being on the Strip by himself and hope he returns in one piece because he’s been raring to go since before the sun rose. Hell, I’m just hoping he makes it back. After I’m dressed, I wait thirty minutes before I call him, frustrated it’s taking him so damn long. After he doesn’t pick up or return my text messages, I decide to try to find him, and Google the closest liquor store. It’s only a few blocks away, so there’s no reason it should take this long.
As I’m walking down the street, I’m stopped by entertainers handing out fliers. I grab them and continue. Before I have a chance to enter the store, Diesel comes barreling out with two gigantic paper bags and lipstick smeared on his cheek.
“Seriously?” I ask with a smirk, shaking my head. “What’d you do? Bang her in the bathroom?”