then turned to Brandon. “Has Sloan said anything about it? Anything about Tyler? Or dating other people?”
Brandon shook his head. “No. Do you want me to ask her?”
“No.” I wanted to know, but I didn’t want Kristen to think I’d sent Brandon to sniff around. And Sloan would know if he was sniffing.
I dragged a hand down my face. I’d go right back to work at the fire station when I got back from Vegas, so that would be two more days. And then what? I’d come over and she’d ignore me in person? What the hell happened? I mean, I knew Tyler showing up had fucked with her, but I didn’t see what that had to do with me.
I fucking missed her. I couldn’t understand how she didn’t miss me back. Even on a friendship level, she should miss me. We hung out every minute that I wasn’t at the fire station. We were close. Could she really care this little?
“I just haven’t seen her in a while,” I mumbled, as if that explained it all.
“Good,” Shawn said, grinning at the asses of a group of women walking past in short skirts and high heels. “Let her miss that shit. What up, ladies? Want to help a couple of firemen celebrate a bachelor party?”
They giggled and smiled at us but kept walking.
Brandon pulled a cigar from his pocket. “It’s not the worst advice,” he said, lighting a match and puffing on the end of his cigar until it lit. “Try to have a good time. Focus on something else.”
Music erupted around us, and the fountains burst into life. An instrumental of “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head.” Water shot a hundred feet in the air and danced in time with the song, sending a cool mist over us.
It was a vibrant high-energy contrast to my shitty mood.
Brandon and Shawn leaned on the rail and watched the show, and I looked at my phone again.
Nothing.
I stared grouchily out over the congested strip at the black limos and taxis with their light boxes advertising shows I didn’t want to see and steak houses where I didn’t want to eat. What I wanted was to go home and see Kristen.
The ball was in her court.
It had always been in her court. This was her game.
Maybe she really didn’t have feelings for me. She’d said that one night at the karaoke bar that she’d had a crush on me, and that was the last bone she ever threw me. Hell, it was the only bone she ever threw me. And I’d been gnawing on it ever since. At the time, I’d even been a little hopeful that maybe, if she gave Tyler the boot, it was the start of something more between us.
Every time I thought I was getting closer to more, it was ripped away from me.
Maybe she was telling the truth, that all it would ever be between us was casual hookups and no strings attached.
Maybe even the casual hookups are over.
When the water show was done, Brandon looked at his watch. “I want to check out that rare bookstore before it closes.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a great fucking idea,” Shawn said. “Hey, let me get a picture of you guys. You can send it to Sloan.”
Brandon rummaged in his pocket and handed over his phone.
“Let me get one on your phone too,” he said to me. “You can send it to Kristen. Maybe she’ll print it and keep it where she keeps your balls.”
“Dick.” I put the phone in his hand.
Brandon and I posed against the railing in front of the lake, and I faked a smile. Shawn stood and held up Brandon’s cell for the picture. Then he drew his arm back and chucked Brandon’s phone over our heads into the water.
“Hey—” Before I could lunge for it, mine was next. Then he took his own phone, and like a fucking lunatic, he threw that too.
“What the fuck?!” I pushed him.
He laughed, taking the shove. “You two motherfuckers are in Vegas! This dude wants to go to a fucking rare bookstore, and your pussy-whipped ass is practically crying over some girl. I’ve freed you, bitches!”
Even Brandon looked irritated. “You’re buying me a new phone, asshole.”
Shawn pulled out a flask. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll all get new shit when we win at the craps table.” He shoved the flask into Brandon’s chest. “No more Sloan and Kristen. No rare motherfucking books either. We’re in Vegas, and we’re gonna fucking do