All the guys were in on the surprise.
It was his birthday, after all, and I wanted to be there to celebrate it with him, as hard as it was leaving behind my daughter, even for a short time. But Charlie had convinced me it was okay. That I wasn’t neglecting her or harming her in any way, but instead giving her coping skills, the ability to be separated from me without suffering anxiety.
Funny, I was the one with anxiety.
Of course, it was the ever-present worry about Martin that made it understandably more difficult to leave her. It made it harder to quell the innate need to wrap her up in my protection, to hold her in my arms forever and never let her go.
But this wasn’t me letting her go.
This was me investing in the future we had with Sebastian.
I set one last kiss to my daughter’s forehead and headed toward the security line. I twisted and lifted my hand in a small wave.
My own excitement flared as I boarded the plane and fastened my buckle. I sent Lyrik, Ash, and Zee a group text. “I’m on my way.”
I settled into the seat, lay my head back, and closed my eyes as I breathed in deep.
I’m on my way.
Horns blared within the heavy Friday afternoon traffic. A river of people streamed the sidewalks lining the busy strip. Groups traversed from one extravagant hotel to another, clutching tall colorful frozen drinks, stumbling and joking as they hopped from one indulgent destination to the next. Even within the confines of the town car, I could hear the riot of voices, the excitement that held fast to the air as people flocked to the City of Sin to indulge in exactly that.
You could feel it. A tremor of lust and letting go, all cares stripped away as abandon was cast into the wind.
Reckless and rash and wild.
The car made a quick right and wound into the lavish hotel’s passenger pick-up and drop-off, its towers reaching toward the sky where they peered down over the fountains of The Bellagio and the stunning replication of The Eiffel Tower—a bit of Paris brought to the dry desert of Nevada.
Anticipation clenched my stomach, and I fumbled out of the backseat as a ripple of anxious need tickled through my nerves and quickened the beat of my heart.
My phone chirped. With shaking hands, I clicked into the message where Lyrik sent instructions on where to find them. Lobby, north side.
I left my suitcase with a bellman. Sucking in a breath, I entered into the sensual oasis of glass and lights and nude silhouettes that flashed behind fogged glass, everything about the upscale hotel a sensory overload of suggestion and sex.
My feet moved across the shiny floor in his direction, my pulse increasing with each step. By the time I rounded the corner, every inch of me was shaking with the need to see his face. To feel his skin and soak in his presence.
An eager group of people were congregated around them, video cameras poised as Sunder stood answering questions about the show tonight and the upcoming album.
I’d made it just in time to catch the last of their scheduled press conference. The vibe was casual as the four of them posed for pictures and openly answered questions. Behind the media, a ring of onlookers had gathered, snapping pic after pic with their phones. A few called out to them, vying for a little attention from the group of guys who stood out even in the mess of this erotic wilderness, all of them oozing sex and disorder and a taste of delicious wickedness.
Sebastian was like a beacon among it all. The brightest light that was still the darkest dark.
Both hands were stuffed in his jean pockets and he rocked back on his heels, the way he always did when he didn’t know what to do with himself, his head angled to the side as his pretty, pretty mouth moved with whatever he said.
Tingles flooded me from head to toe.