She drops her bag at the bottom of the king bed in our room in Treasure Island and looks around. Mom offered to book me a suite, but somehow I knew this would be enough for Maddie. Judging by the look on her face, I was right.
“Is it okay?” I perch on the green chair in the corner.
She nods. “It's beautiful.” She smiles, one of her light smiles that makes me smile back.
I knew it would be. The understated browns and greens of our room are calming and exactly what she needs after the week she's had because of her brother. Me?
I just need Maddie.
“Wanna go grab some food?”
“Uh, sure. Can I change first?” She gestures to her sweatpants.
“Sure, go ahead, Angel.”
She pulls some clothes from her bag and heads towards the en-suite bathroom, stopping on the way to kiss the corner of my mouth. She walks away, her ass wiggling, and I smile as I watch her go. I stare at the place her ass was for a good five minutes after she's shut the door.
I shake my head and secretly wonder if she's a witch and has cast a spell on me. No, she's too pretty for that. I shake my head again.
Thank f**k for this fake ID Megan managed to get, because I need a damn beer with this dinner.
The bathroom door opens, and Maddie steps out. I glance her way. The skin tight, black jeans she's wearing leave little to the imagination, and the hot pink top that flares from her boobs down makes me wonder exactly what's hidden underneath it. Her hair is piled high on top of her head with a few loose curls framing her face. She crosses the room, not noticing I'm practically drooling, and opens the mini suitcase. After some rummaging, she pulls out some black pumps with hot pink heels and slides her feet into them. She straightens, smooths her top in the full length mirror, and turns to me.
“Is this okay?”
I blink. Swallow. Shit. She looks f**king beautiful. “You look f**king beautiful.”
She smiles. “Thank you. Megan said to dress up, so....” She holds her hands out. “I dressed up.”
“I like you dressed up,” I mutter, walking over to her. I run my hands down her arms and take her hands, my eyes sweeping her from head to toe. “Yeah. I definitely like you dressed up. I like it a lot.”
She glances down then up at me through her lashes. “It's not too much?”
I shake my head and step closer to her, closing the distance between us. “No, it's perfect.” I kiss her softly. “Now I feel like I should be wearing a shirt.”
“Maybe you should be.” She smiles.
I grin at her and kiss her once more before turning away. I find a white shirt from my bag and a pair of dark jeans. I strip – no going into the bathroom like Maddie did – and change, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. I face her as I do up the buttons of my shirt, and her eyes are fixed on my chest. A small, smug smile graces my lips.
“Is my collar straight?” I ask, tilting my head back and exposing my neck.
“Mm? What?” She snaps back to it. “Oh, not quite.”
Her heels are soundless against the carpeted floor as she steps up to me and reaches up to adjust my collar. When she's done, she smooths her hands down my chest and kisses my neck, brushing her lips along the hollow of my collarbone afterward.
“Hey,” I whisper huskily. “None of that, or we won't be going for dinner.”
She smirks and steps back, letting her fingers trail down my body. “Stopping.”
I step forward. “You don't have to stop, Maddie, I'm just saying....”
“Well, I'm hungry.” She bats her eyelashes. “Where are we eating?”
“I was thinking Phil's Italian Steakhouse.”
She purses her lips for a moment. “Expensive.”
“And my treat.”
“You can't exactly take me for dinner on your birthday weekend, Bray.”
“Hey.” I step closer to her again, resting my hand on her hip and holding her chin. “You're my girl, so my birthday or not, if I wanna treat you, I'm gonna treat you, okay? And tonight I wanna treat you. You can pay for dinner tomorrow on my actual birthday.”
She sighs. “Well, okay, but you should know we're only going for pizza tomorrow night.”
Her eyes glimmer, and I grin at her. She smiles back. “Pizza is fine.”
“Good.” She leans up and kisses me. “Now feed me.”
“Yes, ma'am.” I take her hand and pull her from the room, slipping the key card into my pocket.
She leans into my side on the way down in the elevator. “Are the others meeting us there?”
“No.” I kiss the top of her head. “Dinner tonight is just for us.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I squeeze her hand, and we step out. “See, I realized we haven't been for dinner yet, and according to Google that makes me a bad boyfriend.” I wink, and she laughs.
“You googled it? Really?”
I half-smile at her. “Only so it could be perfect for you.”
She stops laughing and leans up, touching her lips to my cheek. “It's perfect anyway.”
I stroke my thumb across the back of her hand. “Come on, let's get some food.”
~
The low light of Phil's Italian Steak House is perfect for dinner. Despite the place being packed – making me thankful I'd thought to book a table before we left college – there's something intimate about it.
Maybe it's because I've never really taken the time to be with Maddie before now. Maybe because it's finally more than just sex. I don't f**kin' know.
But being in this casino now with everyone makes me wish we were back in the restaurant.
Maddie runs her finger around the top of her wine glass.
“Okay, Angel?” I put a hand on her back.
She looks up and smiles. “I'm fine. You?”
“Fine.” I kiss her quickly.
Megan powers through our crowd and takes Maddie's free hand. “I'm stealing her. Go be a boy and play poker or something!”
“What are we gonna do?” Maddie asks and shrugs at me.
“There's a hot bartender over there, and I want his number!” Megan laughs, and I shake my head. Aston's head snaps round and watches her as she leaves. My eyes flick between them – okay, between them and Maddie.
Aston better not have designs on Megan because I'll break his f**kin' neck if he does.
The girls disappear into a throng of people, and I join the guys. “Poker?”
“Poker,” Ryan agrees, finishing his beer and putting the glass on the bar. We all move into the poker room to a mercifully free table. After sitting, Ryan signals to the dealer that he's got it. He deals in a way that only growing up in a casino can teach you. His smooth way with the cards means there’s no chance anyone other than the person the hand belongs to will have seen it. That's what you get when your Dad owns a casino in Atlantic City, I guess. You also get to deal at your own table if you know the casino owner, apparently.