Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 57(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 57(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)
I’ll be up there. Waiting. He had spoken with such confidence. Then again, Tripp didn’t issue orders without someone jumping to perform. I stood, grabbed the key, and fled the bar.
Above me, the lights flickered and the fleeing guests let out a low hiss of anticipation.
The storm was growing closer.
2
TRIPP
Tripp Reinhart strode down the hall, his phone out, fingers almost shaking as he dialed a number he knew by heart. When Dario answered, he let out a long sigh. “Where are you?”
“Down in housekeeping. Employees have all been evacuated. I’ve got Gwen and her father waiting for me at the airport. We’ve got a seat on the jet for you, but we’ve got to leave in the next ten minutes.”
“I can’t. Go on without me. I’ll hold down the fort.”
“Fuck the fort,” Dario growled. “We’ve made the rounds of the room. Guests are out, employees are out. I’ve got a skeleton crew of security who’s staying to protect against looters and put out any fires—literal or figurative. There’s no reason for you to stay.”
And there wasn’t, except that he’d wanted Stephanie Wilson since the day she walked into this casino, and he’d take her in any way he could—even if it was fresh from being jilted by Dario.
“Go ahead. I’ll be fine here.”
His best friend was silent for a long moment. “There’s something you aren’t telling me. What’s wrong? Is it a security breach?”
He snorted at the hypocrisy of the statement. Talk about not telling someone something. He’d known Dario since they were kids. And something was going on with him. Something other than a sudden infatuation with Gwen Hawk. Everyone else might believe his story of quick love, but Dario Capece wasn’t the type to swoon over a woman. And he hadn’t seemed overly charmed by her after meeting her. No, something had happened the second night of their visit, and there was a gap in security footage to prove it. Whatever had happened, Dario was staying mute on, and suddenly putting in his notice, yanking up roots, and moving across the country with her.
Not that Tripp entirely minded. As much as he’d miss his friend, Stephanie Wilson had always been gaga over Dario. His first thought, when hearing about his move, was that he might finally have a chance with the woman.
He thought of her, gasping against his neck, her sweet hot pussy flexing around his finger. Had he bet his life savings, he wouldn’t have expected that chance to come barreling at him so quickly.
“Tripp?” Dario prodded. “Why’re you staying? What’s wrong?”
He tried to focus on the conversation. “There’s no security breach. And my staying here has nothing to do with anything at the hotel. It’s Stephanie. She didn’t evacuate. I need to make sure she’s safe.”
Dario chuckled. “That’s all you had to say. About damn time.”
In the following silence, Tripp could hear his unspoken admonishment, something similar to the ass-chewing Dario had given him a few days earlier. Turns out, the best time to confess your crush wasn’t during the middle of someone’s date with said crush. He’d called Dario to warn him off of Stephanie and had gotten an earful in response.
But Dario had ended their date and backed off, then turned around and claimed ‘true love’ with this Vegas stranger. Whether the sudden love had anything to do with Stephanie, Tripp hadn’t yet figured out. But Dario had seemed happy to step aside, with stern instructions to “make a damn move already.”
He stepped into his office and opened the top drawer of his desk. “I’ll see you after the storm. Stay safe.” He ended the call and grabbed a thin envelope with cash, his master set of keys, and a security walkie. Striding for the door, he paused, then returned to the desk and opened up the side drawer, reaching in and pulling out two sets of handcuffs.
3
STEPHANIE
I stood in the staff bathroom, one dingy hallway away from the opulence of the casino floor and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Did I really want to do this? I’d only had one sexual partner before—John. That three-year relationship had started in a freshman dorm party at LSU and ended with a phone call from Cancun our junior year. Sorry, Steph. Things just didn’t work out. I’m not sure what didn’t work out on his spring break, but if I had to guess, judging from his cleavage-filled social media posts, the situation involved lots of alcohol and drunken sex. I had skipped spring break trips to interview for summer internships and spent the remainder of the week watching daytime soaps on my mother’s couch and drowning my sorrows in a tube of raw cookie dough. That decision had put me in the hospital with food poisoning, and I’d come back from spring break pale and ten pounds lighter, thanks to my stint in ICU.