Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Of course, he did it by hitting him, as effectively as possible. Being a whatever-the-equivalent-of-black-belt-is, Jackson had the upper hand in their "totally fair non-fight."
But Damon enjoyed the unequal match. He fell in love with martial arts. The self-discipline, the group environment, the experience of sparring with my brother.
In a truly bizarre twist of fate, my brother and Damon became friends. He's the one who suggested we carpool.
We're in the lobby of the Mandalay Bay. Las Vegas, in late spring, is not the place I would choose to vacation with my sober boyfriend (even if he finally has his one-year chip), but this trip is only half pleasure. And that half is a mutual friends' bachelor party.
We've also got a deadline. Which means, after the party, we're going to lock ourselves in our hotel room for the rest of the weekend.
A time-honored technique for distractible artists. Only we're now surrounded by every vice known to man.
I'm scared for him, but I trust him. I really do. His sobriety isn't even my biggest concern.
That's my best friend and my brother.
Damon says I'm over-thinking things, but Damon is oblivious when it comes to Daphne's crush on Jackson. I don't blame him for missing Jackson's attraction to Daphne. My brother is hard to read.
The entire drive, the two of them were sitting in the back seat, giggling at each other. Jackson. Giggling.
Beyond.
Bizarre.
Maybe that's it. Maybe I'm in an episode of The Twilight Zone.
My brother stretches toward the ground. Then back up again. He catches me watching and smiles in a way that is somehow serious. His signature.
"It was a long drive," Jackson says. "You need to move after."
"I'm going to hit the pool after we check in," I say.
His smile shifts to something else. Knowing. "Cass, do you have any idea how crowded the pools in Vegas are?"
"In May?" This is a hotel known for its beautiful pools—it's supposed to be a tropical paradise, even though it's in the middle of a desert—but still. It can't be that bad, can it?
He nods. "Wall-to-wall people. Standing. Drinking beer."
My nose scrunches in distaste. Why would anyone stand in a pool? Why would they stand there and drink beer when they could dive under the water and swim? That's like standing on the dance floor with a martini. You can't drink a martini and dance at the same time unless you want vermouth all over the hardwood.
"How about we take a walk after we unpack? Take in the strip?" he asks.
That's a nice group activity, but I have a more fun alternative exercise in mind. One strictly for two.
Though I'm not sure how I'll manage it. Obviously, I'm rooming with Daph, and Damon is rooming with Jackson. I'm not going to kick my best friend out of the space to have sex with her brother.
Right on cue, Daphne and Damon finish the check-in process. He slips a set of keys into his pocket and runs to the bathroom.
She waves to us and skips to our spot by the fake palm trees. Or are they real palm trees? It's hard to tell here.
"Cassie, don't be mad." She offers me one of the electronic keys.
"About what?" I stare at the rectangular key. The same as every hotel key except for the ad for the Thunder From Down Under show at Excalibur. The same company owns Mandalay Bay, Luxor, and Excalibur. They have paradise, ancient Egypt, and chivalry. That's a lot of potential fantasy.
"You're rooming with Damon," she says. "I insist. I know you two haven't had time to be alone in a while. And, quite frankly, I don't want to be witness to your union."
That's fair, but—"I would never—"
"Have sex in the same room as me, yes. Stay up late, working on a song, no. You would. You will. You have," she says.
Okay, yes, that is what happened on the last Webb-Steele family vacation. That is true.
I can't contain myself there. But I can't put her in a hotel room with her crush either. "What about you and Jackson—"
Daphne shoots daggers in my direction.
Jackson looks between us curiously. "We've got a suite."
In my head, I hear Zack and Laurel respond I'll say in unison. They aren't here and they're still here.
Jackson does too. I see it in his eyes. He smiles and shakes his head Cassie, you are ridiculous. "We both want a quiet weekend. It's no problem."
And we both (Jackson and me) know how Zack and Laurel would respond to that. Is that your kink, huh? Quiet? Maybe some sort of BDSM game to see who cracks first.
Ew.
I'm thinking about my brother having kinky sex.
The drive drained all my mental energy. I need to get to my hotel room pronto.
I want to take it, claim it, throw my boyfriend on the bed, and have my way with him—