Connected (Connections, #1)(48)

He just shakes his head but doesn’t speak as he takes my hand and kisses it.

I smile a faint smile and say, “I hope you’re okay with that?”

River returns the slight smile and says, “Dahlia, for now I’m fine with it, but I’d like to talk about it sometime. I want to know you, all of you.”

Just then, our food arrives. I pull my hand away and silently nod to him. Then his phone chimes from his pocket as he continues to ignore it, and I remember I left mine at the hotel, but I really don’t need it anyway.

We talk and laugh throughout lunch, and before leaving, we decide what to do with the rest of our day; we will hit the casino, and then have a casual dinner before heading out for a night of fun at a famous Las Vegas club.





ALIVE


I feel alive when we’re together

I feel it deep within my soul

You’re the best reason I’ve had in a long time

To celebrate this thing we call life

I feel alive when we’re together.





I remember Grace telling me on the one-year anniversary of Ben’s death when she brought me home from the cemetery, “Dahlia honey, there is something beautiful about each and every scar we bear no matter where it comes from.” Pausing, she wiped the tears streaming down her face before finishing what to this day, has to be the single most important piece of advice ever given to me. “When my son’s death, our Ben’s death, has healed in your heart, you will know it. A scar will appear and that means the extreme hurt and unbearable pain is over, your wound will be healed, but don’t ever let your heart close. Leave it open, let someone else in.” She couldn’t speak anymore, but I knew she wasn’t finished. She put a note on the counter when she left that night that read, “Let your heart heal and someday you will love again. Let someone else love you. You deserve it. Remember, I will always be here for you.”

So tonight, as I embark on a first date with this very sexy, charming, and charismatic man, Grace’s words come back to me. I know what I’m feeling now. Healed.

Walking into Aqua, I know I’m in trouble. It’s dark, and the music is blaring in an almost seductive beat. I’m already intoxicated by River’s pure charm and breathtaking attractiveness, and this nightclub isn’t going to help sober me up at all. Also, adding to my almost inebriated state of mind are the two drinks I had with dinner and the few I had before that.

Earlier in the day, we had taken his car back to the hotel and hit the casino floor. He taught me how to play craps, and we also played blackjack and poker. I played the slot machines as he watched. Rolling his eyes at me he told me, “Only sixty year old women waste their time on a game of pure chance.” And in what I’ve come to know as true River fashion, he added, “Now, skilled games, those are something to spend your time on.” Of course, he whispered that in my ear while running his finger down the side of my body. We were having so much fun that we never even made it back to our room. After we left the casino, we walked through the sky tube and then ate a light dinner before coming up to the club.

The nightclub is located on the fifty-fifth floor of the Trees Place Casino. All of its exterior walls are glass, and there is a huge bar toward the back and an even bigger dance floor in the middle. There also looks to be outdoor bars to both the right and left, just outside the glass walls. Each is a mirror image supported by a brick wall on the backside of each bar, creating a terrace-like appeal with trees and benches everywhere. The bar to the right is serving drinks; its mirror twin appears to be closed.

With Rihanna’s song S&M playing loudly as we enter the large double doors of the VIP entrance, we hand our jackets to the coat check, and River turns to me and says, “Stay close, it’s a wreck in here tonight.”

Does he think I want to be anywhere but close to him? Because I don’t. In fact, with all the sexual energy radiating between us, I’m more than willing to forego the clubbing and head straight back to our hotel room. But, since that doesn’t seem to be an option right now, I just nod my head and bite my lip. He looks so delicious and I’m hoping I get a taste of him real soon.

Clutching his hand with both of mine, I follow close behind and bump into him as often as I can, rubbing my front to his back. Making our way to the bar, he orders two lemon drop shots. I just smirk and shake my head.

Cocking his head, he hands me the shot. While grinning widely, he declares, “I know up until now you’ve only done shots to celebrate disasters, but here’s to changing that.”

As he clinks his glass to mine, I recall my earlier thoughts about my feelings for him and know for sure I have most definitely already fallen. He remembers everything I tell him, even the most inconsequential things. As I tip my head back to drink the sweet alcohol that smells of lemons, I think of Ben. I think of how many times I had to tell him something before he remembered it. I had chalked it up to typical male behavior, and maybe it was. Is River is the exception to the rule?

We order another drink, and he leads me to a high-top table in the reserved section just on the edge of the dance floor. We continue to talk about everything, but nothing at all. It is liberating and invigorating to be here with him laughing, drinking, and just having fun.

With the humidity reaching record highs, the ceiling above us opens just as the Enrique Iglesias song, Dirty Dancer, starts thumping out a seductive beat. We both look up in awe of the spectacular sight. As our heads return to eye level, our gazes meet. Bopping my neck and shaking my hips, I full out laugh when I hear something about a girl doing it one way and then another throughout the now open area.