Full Tilt (Full Tilt #1)(33)

I nodded off some time after the ‘stupid wagon wheel coffee table’ and woke up at the end of the movie, when Sally and Harry were at the New Year’s Eve party. Sally was in the midst of declaring how she hated Harry, with the echo of the word ‘love’ resounding behind every ‘hate.’ I teared up, like I always did. It took a long time for those two to find their way to each other, even though they were right there all along.

My fantasy was the opposite. I’d always dreamed my true love would swoop into my life, sweep me off my feet in one heroic gesture. I’d know him at once—a flame would burn between us immediately. No doubts or games. Love—and lust—at first sight. He’d rescue me from all the hurt and loneliness, and I’d never doubt I was loved.

I thought Chett had been that guy. I was the proverbial moth to his flame, drawn to his light, only to be burned to a husk when it proved to all be a f*cking lie. And then I had nothing. No job. No money. Not even a high school diploma. God knew what would have happened to me had I not met Lola.

I went from hanging on Chett’s coattails to hers, and even now I was taking shelter under Jonah’s roof. It had never bothered me before but it did now.

It bothered me a lot.

I shut off the TV. Now the only light came from one little lamp. I thought about going to bed, but my eyes grew heavy and I was too tired to…

“Kacey?”

A gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Hmm?” I blinked awake. Jonah stood over me, and then crouched beside the couch. “You’re back,” I said.

“I’m back.” His expression was pained, his rich brown eyes heavy. “I’m sorry I left you alone all day. It was a shitty thing to do.”

“No…” I sat up, more awake now. “You have work and your family.”

“It was shitty. You’re only here for a little while, and I should’ve come back for lunch.”

A warmth spread in my chest, and I became so aware that only about a foot separated us. “I survived. I ate pizza. A lot of pizza.”

He smiled a little. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to go get dessert. Ice cream or something. I know it’s late…”

“I’d love to,” I said, and that warmth deepened to a flush that colored my cheeks. “Can you have dessert?”

Jonah’s bright smile returned, a slow tilt of his lips to a full-blown grin that made his eyes light up. “I’ll figure something out.”





I drove us to Sprinkle Cupcakes and parked along a back street. Harrah’s Casino rose up on our right and the Strip was a straight walk west from the little cupcake shop. It was closed at this hour, and Kacey’s face fell until I showed her the ATM.

“This is a cupcake ATM?” she said, staring at the bright pink square built into the wall of the closed shop. “Oh my God, that’s the best thing ever.”

“I thought you might like it.” I slipped my actual ATM card into the payment slot and the menu screen lit up. “Go ahead.”

She punched her order into the screen. A machine inside the ATM hummed and a little door slid up to reveal her cupcake: a red velvet with cream cheese frosting.

“That is so cool.”

I ordered a plain vanilla cupcake. I turned from the ATM, juggling my wallet and dessert, just as Kacey broke off a frosted piece of red velvet and offered it to me.

“Want to try?”

“Hold on…” I tried to stuff my wallet in the back pocket of my jeans but the damn thing wouldn’t go. Kacey stood on her tiptoes and held the little piece of cake to my mouth. I had no choice but to eat it off her fingers.

Her head cocked, her eyes bright and electric underneath the amber streetlights. “Good, right?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t tasting any cake.

“You have a little frosting…” She reached again, and her fingertips brushed the corner of my mouth. A whisper touch that crackled like a little current of electricity, straight down to my groin, where is sat heavy and warm.

I offered her mine. “Taste?”

That’s all I could manage. Taste. I scoffed inwardly. Me Tarzan, you Jane.

Kacey took a small bite of my cupcake, and I watched as she licked her lips, staring at her mouth.

“How is it?” I said, a split second before my stare would need an explanation.

“Good.” Kacey stepped back and flashed me a smile. “You have excellent taste, Fletcher.”

We headed west, toward the Strip, ambling along a walkway between shops and restaurants, lined with potted plants and trees. It was after eleven on a Sunday, but Vegas was wide awake. Couples, groups of laughing friends and tourists speaking other languages walked past us or parted around us. We strolled and ate our desserts, heading across the boulevard toward Caesar’s Palace. Then I turned us south.

I wanted to show her the Bellagio Hotel.

“Let’s stop here,” I suggested. We leaned our arms on the white cement wall that buffered the pond in front of the Bellagio. Across the water, the hotel was lit up in gold and pink, curving toward the smaller structures of the casino below it like an open book.

“It’s beautiful,” Kacey said. She turned around to face the Strip. The small-scale Eiffel Tower glowed in front of the Paris Hotel and Casino across the street. “Italy on one side, France on the other,” she said.