“Not my problem, Grace,” Kane told her. “Talk to him, don’t talk to him, I don’t care.” Not much, at least. “But this is the only room you’ve got, so unless you don’t plan on sleeping or bathing this weekend-and, no offense, but I think you’re already overdue on the latter-you should probably get used to it.”
“But-”
“Gotta go,” he said quickly, bouncing off the couch. “The most beautiful blonde in all the land is waiting for her knight in shining armor to arrive. I’m hoping to show up first.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and, miracle of miracles, she cracked a smile. “Now, your mission, and you have no choice but to accept it: Chill out, shower, then grab Miranda and meet me down here in one hour. We’re going out.”
Harper checked her watch and rolled her eyes. “Geary, it’s the middle of the night, and some of us have been on the road for an eternity.”
Kane shook his head. “Grace, this is Vegas.” Why was he the only person capable of understanding the concept? “Night doesn’t exist here. It’s a nonstop party, and we’re already late.”
“I don’t know…”
“Since when does Harper Grace turn down a party?”
He knew perfectly well since when. That was why he’d insisted she come this weekend and why he’d dragged Adam along for the ride. Harper had been on the sidelines long enough-it was time for her to get back into the game. Whether she wanted to or not.
It was good pot-strong, smooth, decently pure-but not good enough to help Beth sleep through Fish and Hale’s impromptu jam session. (Featuring Hale’s off-key humming and Fish banging Beth’s hairbrush against the wall for a drumbeat.) After an hour of tossing and turning, she finally gave up on trying to sleep-only to discover that Reed was wide awake, lying on his side and staring at her.
“What?” she asked, giggling at the goofy expression on his face.
“Nothing.” He gave her a secretive smile, then a kiss. “Let’s get out of here.”
Still clad in her T-shirt and purple pajama shorts, she crawled out of bed and followed him out the door. They headed downstairs in search of the pool, running into half the Haven High senior class on their way.
Beth didn’t care who saw her or how she looked. Only one person’s opinion mattered to her these days, and only one person’s presence made any difference.
Make that two.
Beth saw her first, and tried to dart down a hallway before they were spotted, but it was too late.
“Well, this is just great,” Harper said, lightly smacking her forehead. “As if my weekend weren’t perfect enough.”
Just ignore her, Beth told herself. She didn’t want to get into any more fights with Harper-and not just because she always lost. Yes, Harper had done her best to ruin Beth’s life-but Beth’s attempt at revenge had nearly succeeded in ruining Harper, permanently. Just as she would always bear the guilt for Kaia’s death-Don’t think about that, she reminded herself-she would always know that Harper could just as easily have been the one who’d died. Harper was the one who’d landed in the hospital, gone through painful rehabilitation, emerged pale, withdrawn, and the object of too much curiosity and not a little scorn. They were more than even, although Harper would never-could never-know it.
But forgiveness was easier said than done. And even the sight of Harper still made Beth’s stomach twist.
“Hey, Harper,” she said softly. Reed pressed a hand against her lower back, as if sensing her need for support.
Harper’s eyes skimmed over Beth without stopping and zeroed in on Reed. “Having fun with the new girlfriend?” she asked, disdain dripping from her voice. “Guess it’s easy for some people to forget.”
Harper tried to push past them, but Reed’s arm darted out and grabbed her. Just let it go, Beth pleaded silently, wanting only for the moment to end quickly, without bloodshed. But she could tell from the look on his face and the tension in his body that he’d already been wounded.
“I haven’t forgotten,” he told Harper, in a low, dangerous voice. “Kaia would have-”
“Don’t say her name,” Harper ordered him, her voice tight and her face strained. “Don’t say anything. Just enjoy yourself. I’m so sure”-though it wouldn’t have seemed possible, her tone grew even more sarcastic-“that’s what she would have wanted.”
A moment later, Harper was gone, and Reed was the one who needed support. But when Beth tried to touch him, he stepped away.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, knowing he wouldn’t understand what she was apologizing for.
“It’s not you.” He wouldn’t look at her. “It’s nothing.”
When they first met, he had talked about Kaia nonstop. But something had changed-Beth never knew what, never wanted to ask. Reed had kissed her and, after that, never spoken of Kaia again. There were moments when his voice drifted off and his eyes stared at something very far away, and she knew, then, that he was wishing for something he couldn’t have. But he never said it out loud.
And, though she knew she shouldn’t be, Beth was glad. Because the only way she could be with Reed was to force herself to forget. Kaia had died because of her-no, phrasing it that way avoided the truth. She had killed Kaia. Accidentally, maybe, but killed nonetheless. And now, reluctantly, guiltily, but undeniably, Beth had taken her place.
She wrapped her fingers around Reed’s, half fearing he would pull away. He didn’t-but he still wouldn’t meet her eves. “Let’s go find the pool,” she murmured. He nodded, and she squeezed his hand. He felt so solid, and so safe. He wouldn’t disappear, she reassured herself. He would never leave her alone.
Unless he found out the truth.
Then he would be gone forever.
“Down to business,” Kane said, rubbing his palms together in anticipation. “How should we kick things off? Blackjack? Poker?”
As Harper and Adam began bickering about where to start-Adam voted blackjack, so Harper, obviously, voted roulette-Miranda lagged behind. She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t know how to play any of the standard casino games-though she had a vague idea, courtesy of Ocean’s Eleven, that roulette wouldn’t actually require anything other than choosing a color. She’d rented the DVD in anticipation of the big trip, but had been too distracted by George Clooney to glean much more information than that.
She would have been happy enough to spend the whole weekend without coming face-to-face with a dealer, since surely they’d take one look at her height (or lack thereof) and sallow babyface and show her the door. Or whatever it was they did in Vegas when they busted you for a fake ID.
But she didn’t want to seem timid or clueless, not in front of Kane-and especially not when he was giving her that anything-goes smile-so she shut up. She was trying to be on her best behavior this weekend. Or rather, her most mature, most carefree, most badass, most Kane-appropriate behavior-especially now that she knew they’d be sharing a room. Okay, so there were two beds and two other people. And Vegas was filled with girls who were much more his type. Maybe it was a statistical impossibility that anything would happen. But Miranda couldn’t help letting her imagination have a little fun.
This was, after all, Vegas, where anything could happen… which meant that, despite the odds, something might.
In the end, they compromised, deciding to start slow, with the slots.
All the action was over at the tables-the slot machines seemed solely the territory of the blue-haired ladies and a few caved-in old men with bad toupees, waiting for the big payoff. Miranda dug into her pocket and pulled out a fistful of quarters, plugging them into a rain-forest-themed machine that touted itself as the Green Monster. She put her hand on the long, silver lever, then sucked in her breath as a warm, strong grip closed over hers.