#TripleX (36 page)

Ang grabbed my shoulders and shook them, “Do you see us? Do you see what we did?” Giant tears welled in her eyes, happy ones. Proud ones.

I did. I saw us. I saw what we did. We changed. We fixed things. We fell in love with ourselves. We found respect and hope. We found our smiles.

Looked like we’d both be getting our toes wet later that night.

“Mr. Ryan, thank you for renting with us this evening,” the saleslady cooed, her hand lingering on his arm longer than necessary as she handed him a receipt for the dresses and jewelry. I grabbed it and looked down at the total, $1,456.74.
Holy shit!
Nearly fifteen hundred dollars in rental fees?

“Excuse me,” I said to the saleslady, “what if we just bought all of this, then how much would it be?”

Eyeing me strangely, like I just asked to borrow her personal underwear for the night, she said, “Hold on.” She began looking at the receipt and calculating the totals. “To purchase these items with all the jewelry too, it would be,” she finished calculating. “Around $52,000.00. The exact price would be… $52,156.27.” She smiled a wicked, devilish grin.

“Fifty-two thousand dollars? What the Hell is this shit made out of? Gold?” I asked, incredulously.

Smiling again, she said, “Remember, I need everything back by 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning—in pristine condition. Otherwise, Mr. Ryan, we’ll charge the entire amount to your American Express card—the platinum American Express card.”

I thought Jake would tell us to take off the dresses and find something more reasonably priced, but he turned his head at me, and his eyes traveled slowly up my figure and lingered on the smile on my lips. “You girls find what you were looking for?” he asked.

I nodded my head at him. I did, I found me again. The person who was fearless. Fun. I was
me
again. Jake smiled at me and said, “Then, this is worth it.”

That’s when our last night of fun began.

Light-headed from the adrenaline, I tucked my head into the back of Jake’s shoulder and giggled. They were in too deep, Ang and I tried to sneak away from the Roulette table, but the guys were on a major winning streak.

I tried tiptoeing away, grabbing onto Ang’s arm. Both of us kept eyeing the opening to the dance club, and we could just about hear the music over the chaotic noises of the casino.

Jake clasped his hand around my arm and gently pulled me back. Ang and I gave each other sad faces.

Around us, men sat along the table with stooped shoulders and hollowed eyes. Fingers fidgeting with chips, tinkling of ice in glasses and the soft sound of coins continuously falling filled my ears. The dark-colored vinyl of the seat crunched under my legs as Jake positioned me to stay sitting next to him. I huffed out a loud, bored breath and instantly the vinyl had my legs sweaty and sticky. Maybe I was just nervous about gambling. I knew nothing about how to bet on things or how to even play the stupid game they were playing in front of me. I just kept picking my favorite numbers.

“You can’t leave my side,” he said, smirking. “Either of you. You’re like lucky charms.”

“Are you saying I’m magically delicious?” I questioned.

He choked on his drink, “How drunk are you?”

“Not drunk enough to yank you out of the friend zone, but drunk enough to flirt like Hell with you. Come on, all these single guys, and you’re making me sit here with
you
.
I want to go dance.”

Jake narrowed his eyes at me. “I would love to watch you pick up one of these single men you speak of. I’d like to see you in action.” He moved his chips around and asked me to pick a number.

I gave him one and shrugged. “Ahhh. The more I talk to men on this trip, the more I love my vibrator. And you know what, all your single male perspective advice sucks. There’s a difference between being single because you like the lifestyle and being single because no one will date you for more than a week because you are a high maintenance male.”

“I’m not a high maintenance anything,” he said clapping his hands. The number I picked had won. It was like the tenth time.

“Yeah? What happened to that girl you where dating?”

His eyes met mine. “She had issues.”

“Were her issues… you… by any chance?”

“No, we had an arrangement. We…” he held up his fingers for me to pick the next number. I flung one out at him.

“Stop. Any woman who agrees to some stupid arrangement is just saying that to arrange for herself to get into a better position, so she can grasp her claws into your balls and slowly rip them off and hide them in her purse.”

“I think you’re right,” he said laughing.

“You are such a commitment-phobe. Even your sister says that all the time.”

“I’m not afraid of commitment,” he argued.

“Oh my God, please. You’d rather be locked in a padded room while a bunch of doctors drill your veins with Xanax and slip Zoloft in your pudding than be in a committed, monogamous relationship,” I scoffed, exaggerating the roll of my eyes.

“Yeah? And what about you? Aren’t you all pissed off at all the men in the world after what your husband did? Don’t you want to give up and join a colony of lesbians?” He gave me a once over and a stupid eyebrow raise. “Hmmm… maybe that’s a book you should write—Please? I’ll totally proofread a girl-on-girl book for you. You know, out of the goodness of my heart.”

“You’re an idiot. And I’m glad Scott cheated on me. His girlfriend probably gave him things I could never give him… like STDs and horrible blow jobs.”

“I want to dance!” Angelisa yelled, next to us. If I understood it right, the boys were up a few thousand-dollar chips. It looked
good
. I mean; they were both smiling. I had no clue what I won personally, because I just pushed my chips over to Jake and kept yelling out numbers. He kept winning, so I kept yelling.

The guys went to do whatever they did to cash out, and Angelisa and I hurried out to the bar area where an Eighties-themed party was happening. Because it was always great to celebrate a time you barely remembered anything about. The Eighties to me was full of high, crispy hair, hardened with Aquanet hairspray, thick colorful socks, and airbrushed t-shirts with the faces of you and your best friend. Oh, and I couldn’t forget the rubber bracelets that let everyone know how many boys you made-out with. I only ever got to wear one—one fluorescent yellow one.

A wannabe Bon Jovi belted out “Living on a Prayer” as Angelisa and I took over the center dance floor and busted out whatever Eighties moves we remembered—which ended up with me walking like an Egyptian even when they weren’t playing that song. Above our heads, strobe lights flashed and blinked across the dancing crowd, creating a strange mixture of glimpses of expressions and jerky movements. The music rocked the floor beneath our feet and pulsated through my legs as we danced. I was sipping at a cold drink when the guys found us in the middle of the sweaty bodies and joined in on the rhythmic sway of crowd. The air thickened and pulsed in hazy smoky waves.

Matt grabbed Ang, and it was as if someone turned on a pornographic film, his hands sliding all over her body. I tilted my head back and laughed until Jake planted his heavy paws onto my waist. My drink slopped over the edge of my glass, and I stiffened for a split second until I found his gaze in the flashes of colored lights. They were full of fun and friendship.

Okay, we were on the same level
.

Immediately, I relaxed and continued whirling myself around in my spastic dancing. On the dance floor, we didn’t need to talk, or draw lines and set boundaries. We knew the friendship zone rules, so there was no trying to be charming or funny or sexy. We were just ourselves with no effort to get each other interested. We just danced and anything that needed to be said could be done through looks and gestures and laughter.

Yep, just two drunk, non-sexual entities dancing and grinding on each other.

Yep.

Dancing in the friend zone.

Friend zone dancing.

That’s it.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

The crowd settled down when the Wanna-Be-Jovi left the stage, and the DJ eased a slow song into the mix. “Right Here Waiting” by Richard Marx drifted steadily through the speakers, causing a sting of teenage memories to burn at my eyes. I staggered away from Jake, mumbling an apology for the slow dance, but he caught me by the upper arm and pulled me against him. “It’s only one slow dance. It’s not a big deal, is it?”

Warmth rushed over my face at his words and when I lifted my gaze to meet his, I found him staring intently into my eyes. I cleared my throat to speak, but when I opened my mouth, I found no words. So, I shook my head in response. No, slow dancing should not be a big deal.

Not at all.

Jake slowly slipped his hand down my arm and around my hip to settle at the small of my back. There the heat of his fingers pressed into my spine, and I almost stopped breathing as he stared down into my eyes. Entwining the fingers of his other hand with one of mine, his strong body began swaying along with the melodic rhythm of the music.

He lowered his mouth to my ear and pressed his body against mine, “See. No big deal, right?”

Meanwhile, back in the friend zone where I had banished myself months ago, I was in great need of washing my dirty mind out with soap—bleached soap and Brillo pads. I tilted my head back to try to garner some help from Angelisa, but her face seemed to be stuck to her husband’s. I narrowed my eyes at her and kicked out a foot to get her attention.
I couldn’t believe she let me believe that she hooked up with Thor
. I kicked at her again. I glanced at Matt. His eyes met mine. He mouthed a “Thank you” at me and kissed Ang’s forehead.

Jake pulled my body even closer against his. Dear God, I felt his heart pulsing quickly in his chest; that’s how close we were. “Stop wiggling away from me,” he chuckled, letting go of my hand to cup the back of my neck. One thumb tracing electric spikes of circles right below my ear.

As the song ended, the DJ went out for a break, and bodies shifted from the dance floor. Jake’s hands trailed down my skin as he let me go. I needed to jump in a cold shower. “It’s way too hot in here. Let’s get some fresh air and walk the strip,” I slurred. It was getting way too hot in there. Plus, with each passing minute, the crowd kept getting younger and younger. I wanted to leave before the 10-year-old crowd bustled in—at least they all looked like elementary school kids. Damn, I was getting old.

Jake shrugged his shoulders indifferently. Maybe he was used to having his hands all over women, but it wasn’t something I was used to, and I needed to cool it down before the alcohol clouded my mind into making his innocent dancing into something that wasn’t ever going to happen. It would only end with me being utterly rejected and embarrassed, or a horribly awkward morning-after story. I couldn’t stomach either one. Not with my best friend’s brother.

Around 11:30 p.m., the four of us gathered together, looking out over the fountains at the Bellagio, drunker than Hell, and quite nauseous since we decided to ride the roller coaster at New York, New York, eight times in a row. There were hundreds of people strolling along the streets with us. Strange people offered us cards of naked women, promising a “Good time” if we dialed the number on the back. Angelisa took a handful of cards and shoved them into my purse, squealing, “We love a good time.” Matt shook his head at her, enamored, and totally in awe. Ang and Matt had what people search their whole lives for. They have what I don’t think I ever had—or even knew I was missing.

Matt and Jake had their tuxedo sleeves rolled up to their forearms and each of us were staggering a bit from all the alcohol. Jake was leaning his back against a lamppost, holding my high heels in his hands. He looked sort of sexy.

Sort of.

In a completely friend zone sort of way
.

“I’m too drunk to walk anymore. Let’s call it a night,” I slurred, trying to refocus the blurred visions in front of me.

Angelisa tossed her head up to the sky dramatically and burst into laughter. “You seem to have forgotten you owe me bayment on a pet. I mean bayment on a pet. Fuck!
PAY
ment on a
B
et,” she corrected, shaking her head. “I would now appreciate my winnings, please,” she slurred.