Smile still when I’m following behind him down the hallway and we enter the room.

Ashley sets the bag on a nearby counter, along with the room key, then begins unbuttoning the cuff of his dress shirt.

“Do you want to use the bathroom first or should I?”

“You go ahead first,” I tell him. “I want to look around outside.”

The view is spectacular—more awe-inspiring than I would have imagined—overlooking the entire strip, so high up in the sky the sounds from below barely carry toward me. The balcony is private, with a chair and table, plus loungers for lying around.

At the far corner there’s a hot tub.

“Ashley, there’s a hot tub out here!” I call out, giddy with glee at my new discovery.

Turning to the distinct sound of a bottle being popped—a cork—I catch sight of the spray of bubbles sloshing to the carpet.

I thought he was going to change?

“Fuck,” he curses, holding two champagne glasses in his other hand.

Laughing, I join him, stepping back inside the room. “There’s a hot tub on the balcony—it’s in the corner. I don’t know how we missed it when we were in here before.”

“We were rushing.”

“Should we put on our suits and go sit in it?”

The idea holds more appeal to me than the dirty, bustling streets and sidewalks below. Even the casino, which we have prize money to spend in.

“Love that idea.” He sets the champagne bottle and the glasses down. “Let’s put suits on and sit outside. I’ll bring the bubbly.”

Perfect.

Nineteen

Ashley

I’m not sure what I expected Georgia to be wearing when she came out onto the balcony, but a string bikini wasn’t it.

And I wasn’t sure what I was expecting her body to look like; I’ve seen enough of it to have a remote idea, but her body in a bikini wasn’t it.

She is all bouncy tits and long legs.

I watch as she struts toward the hot tub, and I’m bloody grateful I’m already sitting in it, bubbles rising around me. There’s a shelf for the champagne and glasses—I’ve poured us each a glass—the lights beneath the water a soft blue.

I turned them down low so it wouldn’t distract from the view, the balcony railing clear plexiglass and unobstructed.

It’s incredible and worth the headache of finagling my schedule to be here with Georgia.

Speaking of Georgia…

She’s mid-straddle, slowing easing into the water, fingers brushing the surface as she lowers her arse in.

Normally I would avert my eyes; instead I watch every inch of her body sink into the water, until she is submerged to her shoulders. Her breasts rise to the surface, wet and glistening, so I distract myself by taking a champagne glass off of the shelf behind me and handing it to her.

Otherwise I’ll stare.

She’s bloody sexy.

Black bikini, wet skin.

“Oh my god, this feels amazing.” Her head tilts as she takes a long sip from the glass in her long fingers. “Look at this view. This is stunning.”

“It is.”

Except I’m not talking about the view. I don’t give a shite about it.

I’m talking about her.

She’s stunning.

I thought so the day we met, and I think so now.

Do you want to pretend for the weekend that I’m not your roommate? Do you want to pretend for the weekend that I’m not just your friend?

Yes.

I hate champagne but drink it anyway in hopes that it calms this fucking nervous shite-storm going on inside my stomach.

I don’t like it—it doesn’t feel natural.

Not to mention, those two questions she asked this evening at dinner keep lingering in my goddamn brain.

Do you want to pretend for the weekend that I’m not just your friend?

What the hell did she mean by that?

Was I supposed to read into it or take it at face value?

Either way, the sentence plays on a loop in my mind.

“Let’s play a game.”

I groan.

“Another one?” I don’t know if I can handle her version of ‘games’—they seem to have me admitting to shite I would rather ignore.

“Yeah, why not? Or do you just want to talk like regular people?”

“You want to play the yes and no game again? Because I’m tapped out on questions.”

Georgia laughs. “No. What if we play truth or drink? You have to answer with the truth or take a drink.”

“That sounds easy enough.” Now I’m grumbling like a baby.

“How full is that bottle?” She laughs again, already sounding tipsy.

“Full enough—unless you plan to pass on all the questions, then we’ll have a problem because I didn’t see another bottle lurking anywhere.”

Except the mini bar, and I’m not too keen on pilfering that supply unless it’s an emergency. I’ve seen what liquor from inside those things cost, and I highly doubt Georgia would be cool with paying that. I also doubt it’s complimentary as part of the prize.

“You go first,” she tells me, a little drunk with power.

“No—it was your idea, you go first.”

“Ugh,” she huffs. “Let me think for a second.”

I hope she starts with an easy one, eases into the hard questions I’m certain she’s going to hit me with. She might look innocent and unassuming, but behind those pretty eyes lies a mind I’m realizing is extremely complicated.

There are things on that mind she wants to talk to me about, and these dumb games are the only way she knows how to do it without feeling foolish.

“Okay don’t forget—you have to answer honestly or drink.”

“Yeah, yeah. Quit stalling.”

On the horizon, millions of lights twinkle and glow. The fake Eiffel Tower of a nearby hotel begins to flicker, just like the real one in Paris does every night for an hour.

I’ve seen the real deal with my own eyes—this little one is no comparison.

“Do you ever regret coming to the States for school?”

“No,” I answer without hesitation. “I like it here.”

“Like it, or love it?”

I cock my head. “Don’t be greedy—it’s my turn to ask a question. You’ll have to save that for your next one if you want to know.”

Her mouth drops open at my cheeky retort.

I smirk. “Are we allowed to drink if we’re not drinking to pass on a question?”

She shrugs. “I don’t think so. Wait—is that your question?”

“No, I was just wondering.”

“I think no, or we’ll run out.”

“Maybe, maybe not—I don’t plan to pass. I’m going balls to the walls on this one.”

“Ooo, is that so? Okay tough guy, we’ll see.”

The sound of a helicopter chopping through the air distracts us both for a second, and we watch as one comes around the corner of the hotel, flies toward a different hotel, and hovers near the roof before lowering itself.

“That is so cool,” Georgia says breathlessly, leaning both elbows on the side of the hot tub to watch.