ACE:Las Vegas Bad Boys(39)

“Who is it?” Claire walks over and takes a look herself as another knock hits the door. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

“Emmy,” a voice calls through the door. “Emmy, are you there?”

My stomach drops. Whatever red flush filled my cheeks a minute ago, with Claire's questioning, has drained.

Ace is here. For me.

“Ohmigod, I can't deal with this,” I hiss at my friends. “Say I'm not here. Say I'm … at work.”

“Ugh, that won't fly. He owns the casino you work at dummy,” Tess whispers back.

“Just—” Claire rolls her eyes, exasperated, as if she has all this experience with men like Ace. “You guys are so weird. Just let me deal with it.”

I grab Tess's arm and pull her into my bedroom. I close the door, keeping a small crack open so I can watch Claire be the grown-up. The two of us look through the opening, not wanting to miss a thing.

Claire pulls open the door, revealing a tall, handsome man. A man with searing green eyes and a grim look on his face. There is no cockiness or fronting. Right now, Ace looks pissed.

“Oh, Ace, what are you doing here?” Claire asks, all wide eyes and feigned surprise.

“Where's Emmy?” he asks, stepping into my apartment.

I watch as he takes in the modest space that is my sister’s apartment. I don't let myself be embarrassed with the place I live in. I’m grateful to be able to take care of Janie’s place until she gets out of the hospital.

If she gets out of the hospital.

Which I know is beyond a long shot.

“She's not here. Went to get coffee.” Claire shrugs unapologetically.

“Then why are you drinking that?” he asks, pointing to the still-steaming mug in her hands. His eyes sweep the room and land on the two other half-filled coffee cups on the table. The near empty pot on the counter. The creamer opened, still sitting out.

“Oh.” Claire laughs in an awkward high-pitched way I've never heard escape her lips.

This is bad. But it's also kind of hilarious to watch Claire get all flustered around Ace, a bad-boy hottie to the extreme.

She’s probably thinking about the fact that her recent date with the bowling league babe doesn't compare to someone so chilled, so rock-solid. Someone who I want to be mine.

Stop it Emmy!

I want to punch myself in the freaking face. I should not be here cowering behind a bedroom door. I should walk out there, calling Ace on his shit, and then getting my tail over to the hospital to talk with the doctor who freaking wants to pull Janie off life support.

This is the problem with men. They one hundred percent, without fail, screw with a woman's priorities.

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

But seriously, I don't.

“Where is she, Claire?” Ace asks, his voice softer than I expect. “It's not funny. I tried to reach her half a dozen times and she isn't answering. I got worried. The guy at the club, Grotto, got under my skin, and I don’t want him to hurt her.”

“He hasn’t been around, I promise. And Emmy’s tough. She can handle a lot.”

“I didn’t say she couldn’t handle it, but Grotto’s dangerous. And she left last night without a word. I just want to makes sure she's okay.”

“She doesn't want to see you, Ace.” Claire bit her lip, and then spoke apologetically. “Sorry. I don't want to get in the middle of anything … but she's my girl.”

“Yeah,” Ace sneers, his soft edge unfurling. “Well, she's my woman.”

Claire's eyes get wide at that statement, and Tess squeezes my leg, giving a not-so-silent squeak.

I'll admit it—my entire chest fills with emotion as I hear his words. Emotions I can't sort out this fast. I love the way the possessive statement rolled off his tongue. But I hate the kind of man he is. I'm scared of the places he's been.

Ace and Claire hear Tess's squeak, and both sets of eyes dart our way.

Shit.

Ace takes two long strides and opens the door. Both Tess and I stumbling as our hide-out is uncovered.

“Hey,” I say, standing, tugging at the tank top I put on after the shower last night.

“We need to talk.” Ace doesn't ask if I want to, he just tells me what we need to do. This sort of authority is the kind that will get me in trouble.

The kind that will give me exactly what I need.

“Uh, I'm gonna call an Uber,” Claire says, dashing into my room and grabbing her phone.

“No,” I tell her. “Stay. Both of you.”

“I think you guys need to talk.”

“You’re seriously gonna leave me here with him? This monster?”

Ace's eyes swivel to mine. He looks completely caught off guard by my words. Good. I want him shaking in his boots. Okay, so he isn't wearing boots. He's wearing some shiny, fancy-pants dress shoes and a suit that looks like it was made for someone to wear down the red carpet.