“Time to let loose, Lindy,” Everly giggles and pushes me forward. “Why else did I push for us to come to Vegas for your birthday?”
I guess I could use one of those crazy weekends. Not that it’s going to be one of those weekends. “I figured it was for the private jet that comes with me.”
Everly shoves me. “Not gonna lie. It’s awfully convenient to have an heiress for a best friend. But I was just excited your little break from skating meant we could finally plan something for your birthday. Thirty-six hours is better than nothing, and you know me . . . Go big or go home.” She smiles like the Cheshire freaking cat. “I plan on going home knowing exactly how big Pace is.”
I look between my two friends and laugh. Their father has been the franchise quarterback for the professional football team my family owns for over twenty years. Their grandfather is the head coach, and his youngest son, Callen, who happens to be the same age as the twins, was just drafted. None of us come from average families. Unfortunately, I’m the only one who also comes with an around-the-clock bodyguard. “Is Charles waiting outside?”
Brynlee pops her head into the room. “Of course he is. Now let’s go. I want to get a cabana at the pool while we still can. That stupid Kroydon Kronicles column in the Philly Press has already reported we’re in Vegas. Let’s not give them anything else to report on.”
“I already booked it,” I tell her as I grab my bag and toss my Kindle inside. “We’ve got two for the day. Plenty of room for low-key.” I look over at Everly. “At least for those of us that want it.”
We walk into the living room of the suite and find Kenzie studying on the couch. Everly snags the big book out of her hands. “You promised us one weekend, girl genius.”
“Guys . . . classes are kicking my ass.” Kenzie looks up, clearly frustrated. “Exams are next week.”
Everly pulls her up to her feet, then hands Kenzie her oversized bag before eventually relenting and letting her add the textbook to the bag. “You know, they have these things called e-books now, Kenz. You should try it.”
Kenzie adds her highlighter, then checks to make sure she’s got everything else she needs. “Listen . . . you all graduated and started your lives. I’ve got three years left of med school before I even start a residency.” She spins on Everly with a finger pointing her way. “And don’t say it. I know I chose this. I’ve got a test on Monday, and it’s only my first one of the week. I have to do well. So I don’t want to hear a single word about it when I’m studying at the pool and you’re all getting drunk.” She looks around at all of us this time, then grabs her vibrating phone, and her face drops. “Ugh . . . Looks like Easton is bailing on the pool, but he said he’ll meet us at the club tonight.”
“Did he say why?” Everly asks.
Kenzie shakes her head.
Brynlee takes Kenzie’s phone and drops it in her bag. “Oh well, his loss. Callen and Maddox are already down there. Let’s go.”
“I swear if Callen goes home and tells Dad anything about this weekend, I’m going to string up his balls by the laces of his cleats,” Everly grumbles.
“Dramatic much?” Brynlee plants her hands on her hips and glares because our girls will always defend Callen.
Forget Maddox. Bryn would throw him to the wolves.
But Callen . . . He’s a whole other story.
“Come on,” Gracie groans before she pops a big straw hat on her head and grabs the key card from the table. “Can we go now? I’m hungry.”
“Oh, sweetie, we’re drinking breakfast. Your options are mimosas or bloody marys. But hey, olives are a veggie, now let’s go.” Everly opens the door with a flourish and pats my bodyguard, Charles, on the chest. “You’re going to keep your distance today, right, Chuck?”
Charles’s eyes find mine, and I can already tell it’s going to be a long weekend. “You know the rules, Miss Sinclair.”
Everly leans into my side and whispers, “You know we’re going to have to ditch him at some point, right?”
A small smile tugs at my twitching lips.
Maybe it will be one of those weekends after all.
Easton
“Why did we even bother taking the meeting if you knew you were going to decline the trade offer? Max Kingston has been trying to get your ass to play for the Revolution for years.” Pace has been a broken record about this for the past two hours. “You ever planning on accepting the trade? On going home? Could you even imagine the way the fans would lose their shit over the prodigal son returning?”
“I am home, asshole. Vegas has been my home for a decade. Kroydon Hills . . . Well, Kroydon Hills is the place I visit. That’s it.” I look around to make sure no one’s paying attention and shove my best friend forward. “Seriously? Prodigal son? Who the fuck says that kind of shit?”
“There’s a reason I’m your agent, E-man. I can spin shit into gold.” He’s not lying either. Pace was a good college hockey player, but he knew it wasn’t going any further, so he went into the family business. Now he’s one of the most sought-after sports agents in the country. He’s second only to his older brother, which has always pissed him off. “Now relax. It’s time to see your girl.”
I stop dead in my tracks, and Pace almost runs into me. “Stop with the my girl shit.”
“Dude. What crawled up your ass tonight? I’ve been calling that girl your girl for a fucking decade. She’s the goddamn Kingston princess, for fuck’s sake, and she looks like—”
I cut him off with an icy glare. “Watch it.”
He throws his hands up in front of himself. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself to get through the night, man. You can keep lying to yourself if you want to, but I’m your best friend. You can’t lie to me.”
“There’s nothing there. End of story. Now let’s get this shit over with.” I shake my head and move around some rowdy asshole, not giving a shit that he’s sloshing beer all over himself while a prostitute grinds her ass against his dick. Dumb fuck probably doesn’t realize she’s pay-to-play. Maybe he just doesn’t care. I remember those days. I spent a fuck-ton of nights drinking to forget, and there’s no better place to do that than the city of sin.
Spent half those nights on the phone with her too.
Somewhere along the way, she became my girl.
Not that I said it.
Not that she knew it.
But she fucking felt like it.