Shine Not Burn(32)

“Yes. I trust you,” I finally said.

“Okay, then, get dressed. I have a surprise for you, and I hope like hell you’re going to want to do it.”

“Can I get a hint about what it is?” I asked, sliding off the bed.

“Sure. Here’s your hint: Shine, not burn.”

When he smiled and winked at me, my heart melted into a puddle on the floor. I realized in that moment that I was falling hard for this cowboy stranger.





Chapter Thirteen





I ROLLED OVER AND MOANED. My head was pounding, and I felt like I was going to throw up. The sound of snores pulled me the rest of the way out of my half-conscious state. I cracked a dry eye open and caught a blurry view of mangled blond hair next to me in the bed.

“Candice?” I asked. My voice sounded like a frog’s. What? Did I take up smoking last night?

“Wha…?” she mumbled, her face buried in a pillow.

“Where are we?” I asked. I was afraid to sit up. The bed was spinning around the room too much for that.

“Vegas.”

“Where in Vegas?”

She lifted up her head, her hair one giant knot hanging in her face. “Hotel room.” She dropped her face back onto the bed. Moments later she was snoring again.

I rolled over onto my side away from her and stared at the nightstand next to me, trying to remember what the hell I’d done last night. My conscious mind wandered through the halls of my memories, trying to pick out facts and separate them from general fuzziness and the things that made zero sense.

I remembered going downstairs with Candice and Kelly. That part was very clear. I put my hands on my bare breasts, glad to know I hadn’t fallen asleep with those gel booby-hikers on. My breasts would surely have fallen off due to lack of circulation after all this time. I noticed my nipples were tender.

Sex. I had sex? Visions of the cowboy came flooding back. “Oh my god. I had crazy monkey sex with a cowboy.”

Kelly stood in the doorway. “What’d you just say? Something about having sex with a monkey?”

I sat up gingerly, holding my forehead when the effort was too much. “No. I said I had crazy monkey sex with a cowboy not a monkey.”

“What made it monkey sex then, if there weren’t any monkeys involved?” She sat on the end of the bed, wiggling Candice’s foot. Candice pulled it away with a moan.

“Shut up. I have a splitting headache.” I looked up at her through most likely very bloodshot eyes. “What did I do last night?”

She shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I went down to the casino and ended up in the other bed this morning. I don’t remember much myself.”

Candice spoke in the pillow. “You got drunk, you lightweight. And I burned an hour of good man-cruising time taking care of your sorry butt. You barfed like three times.”

“Oh,” said Kelly, smacking her tongue and lips around. “No wonder my mouth tastes like kitty poo.”

“What about me?” I said, nudging Candice on the arm. “What did I do last night?”

Candice sat up with a big annoyed sigh. “How am I supposed to know? You came up with the cowboy, I left when it got crowded, and then when I got back here you were gone. I went to sleep, alone, I might add. This town is totally dry for good men.”

A tingle down between my legs said otherwise, but I didn’t argue. I didn’t have enough memory to do it properly. Bits and pieces of my night in this room with the cowboy were trickling in piece by piece. My face pinked up at the memories. I stood, going into the bathroom and grabbing my cell phone on the way. “I can’t remember a lot of what I did,” I said, shutting the door.

“That may be for the best!” said Kelly, shouting so I’d hear her through the door.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I had a hickey on my neck. I put my cell phone down on the back of the toilet and lifted my hair to put it in a ponytail. Two hickies. Another one on the other side. Great. Last time I sported one of these I was in eighth grade. “Yeah. You’re probably right,” I responded.

I stripped down and stepped into the shower, soaping myself up while trying to put my memory back together. I met the cowboy around nine last night … what was his name? Mike? Mick? And then we came up here and had … sex. Yes, we definitely had sex.

I touched myself down there and noticed my sensitive parts felt used, like I might have had a really good time last night. Flashes of him naked, of him in a hat and jeans, of him holding me in his arms …? Is that possible? All the memories were warm and made me feel … loved. Had I taken X? Was I drugged? Damn if I could remember what came next, after the apparently happy sex had rocked my world.