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Ahem.
"We can't stay inside for the whole walk." He motions to the carpeted casino floor. "But we can dart in and out of air-conditioning. The Strip is designed so you can walk through the casinos when you like."
"To keep you close to the tables?"
He nodsexactly.
"They're so loud." Seriously, my ears are already ringing from the ding-ding of slot machines and the murmur of conversation. "And smoky."
Not to mention the stale air and lack of natural light. Which is smart. The light thing. People don't realize how much they rely on natural light. Without it, we don't know if we've been at something for an hour or a day. We don't know when to go to sleep or wake up.
But it's really not sexy.
Nothing about this is sexy. Nothing except the linen-clad man next to me.
"Pick your poison." Jackson motions to the ugly red-yellow carpet inside then to the painfully bright sun through the glass doors.
Right. I pick inside. I nod and move through the casino. The designers were kind enough to leave paths in the carpet. The design actually has a path in it, though something tells me the path leads to another set of gambling tables, not to an actual paradise.
Jackson walks in time with me. He looks around the space with careful eyes, noting the groups throwing dice, the solo travelers playing blackjack, the lonely singles at the slot machine.
He studies the space the way Cassie does, as if he's trying to commit it to memory. She's always adding things to her repository of experiences so she can write more "honest" songs.
Why does he study things this way?
I want to know. I want to know everything about him.
I need to talk about something else. Anything else.
"This place is much sadder than I remember it," I say.
"You liked it once?" he asks.
"There's a giant castle! And the Eiffel Tower! Right next to each other." The buildings seemed so magical when I was a kid. Like some sort of playground for adults, one I'd appreciate when I was older and wiser. I always had an abstract interest in sex,but it seemed so far away then. Something adults do. Something magical in its own way.
"A few casinos apart." He nods. "There are castles in France too."
"But is New York City between them?" I ask.
He smiles as he leads me off the casino floor to a big, airy walkway. "Was that the appeal? The excess?"
The air changes. It's still a little smoky, but it's not stale. The sun streams through the skylights. The AC hums to keep us cool.
We're in the path between hotels. I expect one of those corporate walkways between office buildings, but it's something much smarter. A mall. Stores and restaurants dot the walls.
A hip clothing store. A bar with ice-cold vodka. A terrible chain restaurant.
I turn to Jackson. I try to keep my gaze in friendship mode. How do friends look at each other? A little eye contact, but not too much. I don't stare into his gorgeous green eyes or study the line of his jaw or wonder how his skin would feel against my fingers.
Okay, I do.
But I try not to make it too obvious.
Okay, eyes on the floor. It's also carpet, but it's not quite as ugly. A soft grey shade.
Now, where are we? Not on how hot my best friend's brother is. We're on Vegas. Why I liked it.
I continue, "I think it's the name. Sin City. It felt adult. It felt naughty. People are attracted to the taboo, you know." Okay, so much for not going to sex.
