I’d be depressed.
“Hey, it’s only three more rides.” Reid tugged me closer to him. “Besides, after this Max scheduled dinner and drinks.”
“As long as we don’t have to parachute out of an airplane to get them,” I joked.
Max snapped his fingers. “Now there’s an idea I’d like to explore.”
“Explore this.” Reid flipped him off.
Max grinned. “Just look at you two, already joined at the hip. In another life I could have been a relationship expert.”
Becca gave him a patronizing pat on his back while she mouthed, yeah, right to us.
The elevator ride was again too short.
“Freaked out?” Reid whispered in my ear.
“A bit.”
“Hmm.” He tugged me back, then quickly turned me around, and his mouth met mine in an urgent kiss. I opened my mouth only to have his wicked tongue slide right past my lips. Shivering, I tugged him closer as his hands roamed across my back, while his tongue drew slow circles around mine.
When we broke apart, the doors were closing again.
Max shoved his foot in between them. “Hurry up, kids.”
“What”—I heaved—“was that for? I mean . . . there weren’t any cameras.”
“There weren’t cameras in my apartment either,” he pointed out. “And maybe”—his mouth met mine again, his lips peppering me with light, soft kisses—“I did it because I wanted to. Ever think about that?”
“But why?” And seriously why did I care that he was kissing me? He was kissing me!
“I like you.” He pulled back.
The doors shut again.
Max’s foot wedged its way through as a loud beeping sounded. “Seriously, guys, this is getting embarrassing, you can kiss on your own watch!”
My cheeks heated. “I like you too.”
“Great!” Max shouted. “We all like each other. Awesome. Can we go now?”
“Tonight.” Reid tugged a piece of my hair forward, then wrapped it around his finger. “After dinner, you and me . . . dancing . . .”
“Just us?”
“No cameras. No publicity stunt. We only have to hit those three clubs, and we can do that tomorrow, right?”
I nodded dumbly.
“Good,” he whispered. “Our second date.”
“Great guys, real great. Do you realize you can get arrested for this shit? Just holding up an elevator because you can’t keep your pants on and—”
“Coming!” Reid called and grabbed my hand as we got off the elevator.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
REID
Jordan was a better sport than I expected, even when Max started screaming, mid–roller coaster ride, “I think I heard a clicking noise. Holy shit, we’re going down!” Sure, she might have gasped and then clenched my hand so tight I was a bit concerned my bones were going to snap in half and I’d have to wear a cast for the next six months, but the real kicker was when Max convinced her that the bungee that shoots you off the building was the easiest of all the rides because you only go up and then pop right back down.
Not the case.
I had to wonder if Max was the reason Becca switched from bottled to boxed wine. You know, to save money on her own brand of therapy?
By the time we made it back to Aria, it was already dark. Time for dinner and drinks, and, according to our laminated schedule, gambling.
Though only a few tables were Max approved.
Because that’s what he did—he micromanaged so much that it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he did background checks on all the dealers for the tables he wanted us to go to.
Paranoid freak.
I shared a suite with Jordan and Jason. Colt and Milo were stuck with Max and Becca.
“Odd man out sucks,” Jason grumbled once we were back in the room, if one could call a freaking apartment a room. Jason grabbed a beer from the stocked bar and sat on the couch facing the TV but didn’t turn it on.
Jordan whizzed by me in a panic-stricken flash. “Be right back.”
“Whoa.” I grabbed her wrist. “Where you going?”
“Out.”
I frowned. “We just got back in.”
“Yeah.” She fidgeted, then jerked her hand free and patted her hair. “But I forgot hairspray.”
“I have hairspray,” Jason called out.
“Girly hairspray,” Jordan corrected. “I’ll be right back. We don’t have reservations for another hour or so anyway.” Her smile was wide, her eyes unfocused, and I could have sworn she was sweating, but before I could say anything more she was out the door.
“Girls.” Jason sighed from the couch. “Think she’s really getting hairspray?”
I was still eyeing the door. “Doubt that woman goes anywhere without packing at least three bottles of it. You’ve seen that wild hair.”
“It’s sexy.” Jason chuckled darkly.
“What was that?” I had half a mind to smack the bottle from his hand, then hit him over the head with it. Repeatedly.
Jason looked up from his beer, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Someone’s got it bad. How long you been sleeping with her?”
Hands shaking, I walked over to the bar and started pouring alcohol, lots and lots of alcohol, in my tall cup. “We haven’t slept together.”
Another chuckle from the couch. “Is this for lack of trying? Or is your game really that off? Man, never thought I’d see the day where your eyes didn’t just magically cause a woman’s bra to fall to the floor.”