Waking Up in Vegas(80)

Turns out it soothed me, too.

I woke up at three, instinctively reaching for Jensen. Instead, all I encountered was Lita’s soft fur against my throbbing knuckles, and yesterday came back to me in screaming, vivid color.

I had so fucked up.

Jensen deserved someone who treated her like the treasure she was, and I simply had not done that. I realized far too late just how special she was.

I’d been a fool. I was so damn cocky.

I could never punish myself enough for forcing her to choose between her family and me.

I’d never even conceived that I might lose.

God, I didn’t feel like going in to work this morning. Or ever again.

I took a shower anyway, knowing I’d make that drive and say what the listeners needed to hear.

I made sure the water was cold, though.

It was all I deserved.





Chapter 24




*Bring Me To Life*



“Good morning, Las Vegas.” I sounded flat, and no wonder—it felt like my life had completely deflated.

I covered the mic with my hand so I could clear my throat, and started over. “It’s just me here this morning, and unfortunately, that’s the way it’s going to be for the foreseeable future.”

I adjusted my headphones so both cans sat squarely over my ears, and swiped a hand over my eyes.

I was surprised to find my fingers came away wet.

“Jensen,” I paused to clear my throat again, not bothering to muffle the microphone this time, “Jensen MacKenzie has taken another position with Cirrus Radio in Phoenix, Arizona. We here at KLVR wish her all the best.” My voice cracked on the last word and I had to shut off my mic.

I thought I could do this, I really did, but I was so wrong. Instead of saying anything else, I queued up ‘Love Bites’ by Def Leppard and closed the studio door.

The Rolling Stones ‘Angie’ followed on the maudlin playlist, mostly because I didn’t trust my voice anymore.

Listening to Mick Jaggar’s cracked and heartbroken whisper boldened me a bit; if he could throw that out there, why in the hell couldn’t I?

Besides, broadcasting to the entire Las Vegas valley that I was in love had effectively removed me from the Most Eligible Bachelor list forever, anyway.

Time to go all in.

“I have a confession to make.” I spoke over the end of the song—a gigantic violation of station policy—and didn’t give crap one. Let them fire me. The studio walls held too many damn memories anyway. “I was a consummate man-whore when Jensen arrived. I’d be willing to bet most of you already knew that.

“What you don’t know was that, from the moment I laid eyes on her, I was head over heels. And like a dumbass, I had no clue. I just knew she was amazing. But as most of you heard on Friday, I finally figured it out and blurted it out on the air, with all of you eavesdropping.”

I had to pause here to steady my breathing. I’ll admit to you that there may have been a few tears involved, but Las Vegas at large didn’t need to know I could actually cry. I do still have a few standards.

Albeit, very few. I’d be willing to throw myself in front of a bus if she wanted me to. I’d do anything she asked if it meant she’d just come home.

“I need to correct something I just said, since I’m being all honest and laying myself open here. Even if I wasn’t aware of it, the truth is Jensen stole my heart the very first time she put me in my place and made me feel like a complete moron.”

I huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “And, man, did it piss me off. But here’s the thing. To her, I wasn’t a bedpost notch, I was an idiot with a Y chromosome. I was a little boy in man’s clothing, calling myself an adult because I could sweet-talk women into sleeping with me.”

“Sex doesn’t make you a man, for all you guys listening out there. Far from it. Caring, responsibility, and not being a selfish ass-hat make you a true man. I’m twenty-nine years old, and I finally grew the hell up.”

Jesus. I was racking up the FCC fines today, wasn’t I? Good thing I was winding down.

“Now that I’ve wrecked your Monday morning with my revelations–”

There was a tap on my shoulder. I closed my eyes, my gut tying into Celtic knots and braids. This was it—my pinkslip.

With my back to the door and the headphones over both ears, I hadn’t heard anyone come in.

I didn’t want to turn around, even though I deserved whatever punishment BK was planning to hand me. I’d just had a meltdown over the airwaves, for chrissake.

I sighed heavily, slipped off my headphones, and slowly spun my stool.

“Sorry I’m late. You didn’t call to wake me up… Spartacus.”

What the ever-loving fuck?