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Her face drops at my curt tone. She tilts her head and looks at me softly. “Come on, Loch, there’s been a lot of heightened emotions on this trip, and I know you think w-we’re . . .” She waves her hands in search of a word. “. . . meant to be, but let’s be real for a sec. You live like you’re invincible, like you’re still young and wild, and that’s fine because you are young and wild. But I’m thirty. I need safety, security. I want to settle down, start thinking about kids.”
I finish my drink but don’t set it down because I need something in my clenching fists. She sounds disappointed, exacerbated almost, and I wonder who she’s really trying to convince. Me or herself?
“I’m just another conquest.” She laughs weakly. “And you’re an adrenaline junkie. Don’t worry, I’m sure this crush will pass once the next pretty girl falls in your lap.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say with an acrid taste on the back of my tongue. My jaw grinds, and I change the subject if only to ease my own pain. “I was thinking about the club access cards. We know what number unlocked the door, but we can only connect a person to the number if we can see their card.”
“Yeah.” She sighs, annoyed. Another major security flaw in the name of guests’ privacy. Each card has a number, and the system keeps a log of all the numbers used to unlock specific areas, but that’s it. Just the numbers.
There’s no record of which number is assigned to which guest. Straight up idiotic—but talk about dream murder destination.
“What if there is a way we can round up everyone’s cards without raising suspicions?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on the counter to look her eye to eye.
She tongues her cheek and shakes her head. “I’m sure you’d love that, a valid reason to flirt with every woman here.”
I want to rip my hair out. When will she get it? I don’t want anyone else.
Despite this thing raging inside me, I hold back.
“Well, you know me.” I go to toss my bottle away and get another from the fridge. I pop the cap wordlessly then go back to where I was standing across from her. She watches me expectantly as I take a slow first sip.
The sound of the glass bottle being set down on the marble counter ricochets in the weighted silence between us. “If that’s what you really think I want, let’s make this a little more fun. You up for some friendly competition?”
She sits back and crosses her arms. “What are you suggesting?”
“Whoever is given the most cards in, hmm . . .” I drum my fingers against the bottle then take a quick sip. “Let’s say three days, wins.”
“And what will I get when I win?” I can’t help but smirk at her confidence.
“I’ll let this silly little crush go. This is all we’ll ever be.” I gesture between us, and she watches my hand with a nervous swallow.
My pulse quickens when I think I see a flash of regret in her eyes. But it’s gone just as quickly as it came. “And what do you win?”
“One night with you.” Her brow arches, and I add, “In my bed.”
She smirks. “I’ve already slept in your bed.”
“Oh, a réalta, I don’t plan on doing much sleeping.”
She rolls her eyes then sits quietly, considering my offer. I know what I’m asking of her: be mine for one night. I like to think her hesitation is due to fear it will feel too good, too real to let it only last one night.
Her eyes bounce side to side in thought, and when they finally land on me, it’s like a jolt of electricity. “Deal. But I have a few things to add.” I nod my head for her to continue. “Tiered point system based on membership status. Gold card is one, platinum card is five, etc., but whoever gets the killer’s card is the automatic winner, regardless of points.”
I smirk and raise my eyebrows. “That’s all?”
She purses her lips while she thinks, then she quickly adds, “And you have to be given the card, no stealing, trickery, or any other scheme you come up with.”
“Fine with me,” I agree.
Stella is right about one thing. I am an adrenaline junkie, and my blood is already pumping with anticipation for this new challenge.
“Great. When does the clock start?” she asks, and I recognize a matching flame in her eyes, the thrill of the game.
“Right now. Better go get dressed.” I flick my chin at the pajamas she’s wearing. She gives me a competitive look and hops off her stool.
“Can’t wait to see how not indifferent you really are.”
“You’ll be waiting a long time,” she says with a bite. This is going to be a lot more fun than my original idea.
