At least it gave her something to think about, other than her botched Christmas holiday. She had spent the entirety of Christmas Day drunk off her ass. Her mother hadn’t called once. Celia had called, but Bryna had ignored it. When her father had finally phoned her, all he’d wanted to know was why she hadn’t returned Celia’s call and claimed they had something important to discuss with her. It’d made her even happier she wasn’t home for the holidays to hear this stupid discussion.
Eric knocked hard on the door, twice.
She popped it open and smiled. “Hey.”
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“You didn’t say where we were going.” She followed him out the door.
“I know. Just get in, Hollywood.”
Bryna walked to his car, plopped down into the passenger seat, and arched an eyebrow. “Hollywood?”
“You call me Cowboy.”
“Well, you drawl your words,” she pointed out.
“No, I don’t.” He actually looked offended.
“Yes, you do. It happens all the time, especially when you’re angry.”
“So, it must just be around you then.”
Bryna shrugged. “As long as you admit it.”
“Whatever,” he said, drawling dramatically.
A smile crept up onto her face.
Eric drove the short distance toward the Strip, and she drummed her fingernails on the door.
“You know, I think I’ve been on the Strip more this week with you than all last semester,” she said.
“I know. I never come out here either. It’s always so busy, and it’s so much easier to go somewhere more local.”
She nodded her head. “Like Posse. It would be great to go to Carnival Court all the time, but the tourists kill it.”
“Yeah. I thought about this other place for tonight, and I heard this location is pretty fun. Plus, I have a friend who works there, so she hooked me up.”
“Okay. You have me curious. Where are we going?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
Eric parked outside The Cosmopolitan, and they took the escalators up to the fourth floor. They walked out to the pool on the balcony. In its place, she found a full-on ice-skating rink. The seating had been converted into private fire pits for groups. People were roasting s’mores and drinking hot chocolate. All the while, fake snow filtered down around them—in the middle of a casino pool in the desert. Her mind was blown.
“Ice-skating?” she asked in disbelief.
“I thought it would be fun.”
“I had no idea something like this was here.”
“Well,” he said, “I hope you know how to skate.”
He handed his two tickets to the lady at the front, and she gave them a card to rent skates and assigned them a fire pit.
“Of course I know how to skate. I have my own pair of skates at home.”
“These will have to do for today.”
Eric held up a pair of blue plastic skates with straps that hooked on like ski boots. They were hideous.
“I am not going to put my feet in those,” Bryna said.
“Oh, yes, you are.” He grabbed a second pair off the table. “What’s your size?”
“Six and a half.”
“Here you go.” He pushed them into her hands.
She held them away from her like she was going to get infected. “I draw the line.”
“Where’s the girl who downed nearly an entire banana split?”
“That’s different. This is bad footwear. I prefer Christian Louboutin.” She pointed down at her boots.
“Get over it,” he said dismissively.
Then, he walked away toward their fire pit, which they were sharing with two other couples, who were clearly on dates. She had no other option but to follow him with the repulsive boots in her arms.
Eric nodded at the other people next to them, and they smiled in that dreamy state of adoration for their significant other. She wanted to gag.
She watched him start to put on his skates. “I’ll have you know, I’m doing this under protest.”
The skates looked even worse on her feet.
“Are you happy?” she asked.
“Let’s see your moves, Hollywood.”
In these skates, she didn’t have any moves. She was better at skiing than ice-skating. She thought it should have come naturally since she had a dance, gym, and cheer background, but she couldn’t keep her balance well enough on a thin blade.
Eric didn’t seem to be having any of the same difficulties. He skated backward, so he could face her and taunt her bad skating skills. “I thought you said you were good at this.”
“I said I had skates at home. There’s a difference. Now, stop distracting me,” she grumbled.
She got the hang of it after half an hour, and they spent a good deal of time on the ice. The skating worked up both of their appetites, so they ordered food from the rink eatery—grilled cheese, tomato soup, hot chocolate, and s’mores. The hot chocolate might have been some of the best she had ever had.
When they went back out to skate again, some kids were racing each other around the rink. One rammed right into Bryna’s back, and she stumbled into Eric. He tried to grab her, but she slipped out of his grasp and landed hard on her ass and hip.
“Ugh,” she groaned, lying flat on the ice. Her leg was already throbbing. “That’s going to bruise.”
Eric tried to hold in his laughter but wasn’t able to do so. “You look hilarious, sitting down there.”
“Thanks, jerk. Why not help me up?”
“Sorry. Sorry,” he said.
Once she was on her feet again, she could feel her leg and hip swelling. This sucks so bad.
“You know…your pants are soaked.”
“Are you checking out my ass?” she asked.
“I can’t help it when you have a giant wet spot on it.” He only laughed harder when she glared at him. “Come on. Let’s dry you out at the fire pit.”
Twenty minutes later, her pants were dry again, but she was stiff and sore. She was certain she was going to have a disgusting bruise on her leg for the game next week. She hadn’t even gotten it in a fun drunken accident.
They agreed to pack it up and go home after that. She needed to ice her leg if she wanted to stunt next week. Plus, it was already getting late.
They had made it halfway through the casino before a passing waitress stopped them.
“Eric?”
Bryna was surprised to see a very pretty girl in front of her. She had dark brown, almost black, hair piled up into a high ponytail, and with a round tray tucked under her arm, she was decked out in skimpy clothing that matched the other casino servers.
Her dark eyes were wide in confusion. “What are you doing here?” the girl asked.
“Oh…hey,” Eric said. He sounded uncomfortable. “We just left the ice rink.”
“We?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Audrey, this is Bryna.”
With disdain, the girl set her eyes on Bryna. Audrey seemed to size Bryna up in a split second before clearly deciding she was a threat.
Why does the name Audrey sound familiar? Bryna knew she had heard that name before.
Then, it hit her. This was Eric’s psycho ex-girlfriend whom Stacia had told her about at the beginning of the semester. No wonder she looked pissed. Bryna knew she was a threat to almost everyone’s boyfriend—or husband, for that matter. At least in this one singular case, she wasn’t actually doing anything wrong.
“Hey,” Bryna said, politely extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Audrey stared down at her hand as if it were a viper ready to strike. She didn’t even take it.
Bryna left it out until it was awkward and then dropped it. So, that’s how it’s going to be?
“Did you take her to the ice rink?” Audrey demanded.
“Yeah, we just left.”
Duh. He had said that.
“I hooked you up with the fire-pit tickets! Those are hard to come by,” Audrey cried. Her eyes were as round as saucers, and she looked hurt.
Maybe Audrey had assumed he was going to take her or something, which didn’t make sense. Why would he have asked her to get him tickets for the fire pit if he were going to take her? They could have just gone together. Also, as far as Bryna knew, they had been broken up all semester. Why would he have taken her at all? Either way, it was pretty awkward.