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“Why not?” My eyebrows go up and I glance toward the door.
“I don’t want people to see me walking out of here now, Zach,” she snaps at me, and I love it. It reminds me of the girl she used to be. She never had a problem telling me off whenever was needed. “And that guy who was listening to us, what the hell was that?”
“I don’t fucking know,” I start laughing and I can’t stop. “But that was fucked up, wasn’t it?’
“It really was,” she grabs my arm and holds on to it as she lets out a belly laugh. “Who does that?”
“We’re in Vegas, baby,” I tease her. “All the freaks are out, you know?”
“I can’t believe we did that,” Hunter covers her face with her hands. I can’t tell if she’s happy or upset about it. My money would be on upset.
“If you’re about to tell me that you regr…” I am about to threaten her, with what, I don’t know.
She surprises me when her hands fall from her face, and she gives me the biggest grin. And in the next breath, she is sobbing.
“I missed you so much.” Her shoulders are shaking with her crying, and my jaw is about to hit the floor. I expected her to want to run off in shame. Not that I would’ve allowed her to.
Without a second thought, I pull her body into mine and hold her. It feels so good to have her in my arms again. I never thought it would happen again. It’s like the last seven years didn’t even happen. I almost wish I met her today for the first time. It would’ve saved us both a lot of heartache.
She finally calms down enough to worry about her makeup and hair. She walks back to the mirror and tries to regroup once again.
“I think I need another drink,” she tells me in a shaky voice, and I nod. I’d get her anything she wanted right now. And if alcohol is what she’s asking me to get her, alcohol I will give her. No shame.
“Let’s go, beautiful,” the endearment slips without me realizing it. I don’t know that I am ready for that kind of a relationship with her again. “Ready?” I look at her before opening the door. Considering how busy this place is, it’s a miracle no one else walked in on us. The restroom we ended up in is tucked away more than the others, so that could be it.
“I think so,” she squeezes my hand hard. She’s so not ready.
I whip the door open, daring whoever is waiting on the other side to give us any shit. There’s no one in the immediate vicinity except for a small group of people few feet away who seems to be arguing about where they should go next.
As we walk by them, I feel Hunter shivering and plastering herself to my side, but when I turn my head to check on what may have upset her, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.
With assured steps, I take us back to the bar where we were earlier.
“Same?” the waitress we had earlier approaches us with a big smile and a wink. I nod and slip her a good tip for remembering us.
“Keep them coming for the next hour,” I whisper into her ear when I pull her in by the hand that’s holding the hundred dollar bills I just gave her.
Hunter breaks the moment that’s not really a moment when she pulls the barstool a little too abruptly and sits in it with a huff.
“Problem?” I take a sit in the empty chair next to her, resting my elbows on the shiny surface while leaning my shoulder against hers.
“Why would you be flirting with the waitress right in front of me, after you just fucked me senseless, in the bathroom, mind you, be a problem?” She is pissed and she won’t meet my eyes. Very cute.
“Jealous?” I mean it as a tease, but that just seems to rile her up more.
“Why would I be jealous, Zach?” she crosses her arms under her breasts, making me wish that she had a more revealing top on. Whatever the hell this off the shoulder contraption is doesn’t work for me. “You are free to fuck whoever you want, whenever you want.” Her voice ends on a high pitch, and she is anything but calm.
“I’m good for now,” I lean into her and whisper softly into her ear, very much like I did with the waitress. “I did just fuck you after all. A man needs a break,” I shrug.
“Since when do you need a break?” Hunter’s voice drips with disdain.
“Since I’m seven years older,” I joke. There’s no need for her to know that I didn’t have as much sex as she thinks for the last seven years, and I haven’t had any at all in the last year and a half. “There’s your drink,” I point to the flirty waitress. They’re all flirty in Vegas though, that’s how they make their tips, so I don’t take her sizing me up and down personally.
Hunter snatches the glass of alcohol out of the waitress’ hand before she has a chance to set it on the bar top. She starts gulping it down in much the same way as the first drink I bought her earlier in the night.
“Easy there, tiger,” I tease.
“Slayer,” she retorts, and I look at her in confusion. “My nickname,” she says in clarification.
