Full Tilt (Full Tilt #1)(35)
She goes all the way up to eleven.
That thought helped to quell the anger that was chewing at my gut.
“Feel that?” Kacey asked. “That’s the night dying a slow and painful death thanks to my sob story.”
“I’m sorry I pried.”
She waved my apology away. “I don’t mind. I like talking to you. I don’t normally talk about my life. Ever. Then it gets bottled up and I do something stupid like call my parents. I get rejected, rejection makes me drink myself into a stupor, I start a riot in a green room and next thing I know, I’m waking up on my limo driver’s couch.”
“A vicious cycle.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Kacey said. “The couch part wasn’t so bad.”
A short silence descended. Despite every admonishment to keep to my schedule and not get close to this girl who was leaving in two days, I felt myself leaning in, wanting to hold up the pain she’d trusted me with. Wanting to give her something in return.
“Do you want to come to the glass studio tomorrow?” I asked. “You could see how it all works, or maybe watch me make something…”
I felt the back of my neck redden. I sounded completely arrogant and totally boring at the same time. As if I’d asked her to watch me polish my coin collection.
But then Kacey clapped her hands together. “Are you kidding? I’d love to.”
“Really?”
She used her index finger to lift one of her dark brows in an arch. “Really.”
I leaned back, laughing harder than I had in months. Rusty gears inside me creaked from lack of use, and my embarrassment faded to nothing.
“I’ve been dying to see how you make that beautiful glass,” Kacey said. “I was beginning to think it was for show, Fletcher. You ordered them from Etsy and passed them off as yours to impress the chicks.”
“I’m legit, I swear.”
Her laugh echoed across the pond and within it, I heard traces of a beautiful singing voice. She started to say something else when music filled the plaza in front of the Bellagio: the haunting flute introduction of “My Heart Will Go On.”
Kacey grabbed my arm. “Is that the Titanic song? Oh my God, it is. Why are they…?” Her words trailed away as Celine Dion’s voice rose up and the Bellagio fountains began their show.
Jets of water arced up from the pond, swaying in time. They moved gently at first, almost shyly, like couples on a first date, touching and then collapsing over the expanse of water. Blue light illuminated them from below. As the song gathered momentum, more jets rose higher and crashed harder, creating clouds of mist. The colors changed to red, to pale purple, and then silvery white. The song hit its crescendo and Kacey’s grip on my arm tightened. Her eyes grew soft and she watched the water dance, but I could look nowhere but at her. The show was at my periphery, a backdrop to her.
The song mellowed to its final notes, and the tall jets of water were graceful arcs again, crossing each other in pairs, like dancers or lovers, then slipping beneath the surface as the song ended.
Kacey sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I wasn’t expecting that.” She looked up at me. “It was beautiful.”
“Yes,” I said softly. “Beautiful.”
At my apartment, I unlocked the door and held it open for Kacey. She smiled almost shyly at me as she went in.
Holy shit, this is a date, I thought, locking up. I just took Kacey out on a date and now… This is the end of the date.
“Thanks for the cupcake,” she said from the living room. “And the water show. Did you plan that?”
“I know this city. Aside from my time at grad school, I’ve lived here all my life. And it’s part of my job to know where all the best shows are.”
“You’re good at your job,” Kacey said. “You go above and beyond, actually.” She moved close to me, rested her hands on my forearms and craned up to kiss my cheek. “Goodnight.”
I waited until she stepped back to speak, not trusting myself to open my mouth while hers was so close to mine.
“Goodnight,” I said. I stared as she went into my bedroom. In a few minutes, she’d be in my bed, her hair spilling across my pillow…
This is bad. Very, very bad.
I changed to the sleep pants and t-shirt I’d stashed in the hall closet, and leaned back in the recliner. I laid my hand over my ailing heart that ached for reasons that had nothing to do with my chart or diagnosis, or any terrible biopsy. It ached because I could still feel Kacey’s soft lips on my cheek, and I missed her.
She was fifteen feet away, and hadn’t yet left Vegas with her band, but I missed her just the same.
Jonah worked all the next morning at the hot shop. He came back for me around noon and we grabbed some lunch at a Chinese place, talking and laughing about everything and nothing. After two lunches and a cupcake, I felt a little bit like I’d become part of Jonah’s routine. It wasn’t true, but it made me happy to think so.
He drove us out to an industrial part of town on the outskirts of Vegas. The scenery outside my window was filled with more desert than civilization. Lots of warehouses and ramshackle buildings with aluminum siding. He parked the truck in front of what looked like a small airline hangar with three chimneys. The heavy metal door creaked as he slid it open sideways, and he ushered me inside the space.