On the other hand, he knew that it would be a while before he’d be in Vegas again, so he might as well enjoy the party and the free drinks and the glamourous company while he could. He was never one to turn down a good party. “I can sleep on the plane,” he muttered with a shrug.
He really wished that Abby had stuck around. He missed her. She was great to talk to. They had become such good friends in the past couple of months. It turned out that they had a lot in common and enjoyed each other’s company. They went to movies together, had dinner together, talked through their respective problems—Abby would even confide in him about the men in her life.
Alone, he walked back to the bar and ordered another drink. He sat at an empty stool and turned around to once again survey the room, thinking about Abby back in her room, and how he wished he was up there with her, but she’d rebuffed his offer. And he took that as a definite sign that she was interested in nothing more than friendship with the likes of him.
“Is this seat taken?”
Trevor turned his head to the voice and smiled when he saw a gorgeous woman in a short red dress standing beside the empty stool next to him. He held out a hand, gesturing to the stool. “It’s all yours.”
* * *
ABBY TAPPED HER foot as she waited for the elevator to take her to her floor. She folded her arms and realized that she was still wearing Trevor’s jacket. She pulled the collar to her nose and inhaled his scent as it completely enrobed her. She could still feel the tingle of his lips on hers. And she knew that if one brush of his mouth against hers had elicited such a reaction, why hadn’t she asked Trevor to come up with her? He’d offered. But for some reason she’d said no. Was it fear? If she had invited him up, then their friendship would have been irrevocably changed, and his friendship was too valuable to her. But, God, she shivered at the thought, what a night it would be.
Abby took out her phone and saw the many messages from Luke. She sighed and walked out of the elevator when the doors pulled apart at her floor, heading for her room, but she paused outside her door. Luke had broken her first rule. Don’t get serious. She didn’t want a serious relationship. Just a little bit of fun. She turned her head and looked longingly at the door she knew belonged to Trevor’s room. He was still down there at the party and she could have been, as well. She checked her watch and, with a sigh, she realized that it was still pathetically early. Determined, Abby turned on her heel and walked back to the elevator.
Before she could change her mind, the doors opened and she stepped back inside the same elevator she had just vacated and drummed her fingers against her thigh as she counted the numbers as she descended to the lobby. Maybe she and Trevor could continue the kiss they’d shared. Maybe more.
When she got back to the nightclub, the party was still in full swing, the lights had dimmed and the music had gotten louder. More people were dancing. Abby squinted into the crowd, scanning the room for the familiar face that she sought. But it was his laugh that she somehow heard over the din of the club before she could pick him out of the crowd. He was sitting at the bar. She smiled and started to walk to him. She was almost there when she stopped short and ducked behind a couple of men enjoying themselves nearby. When she got around them, she had a clear view of the bar.
And next to Trevor was a woman. A glamorous brunette in a short dress on the bar stool next to him. Trevor smiled at her. Abby’s mouth dropped in shock, outrage or maybe disappointment. Trevor had just been kissing her on the rooftop, and here, just minutes afterward, he sat, obviously making up for lost time, drinking with another woman.
Disappointment and anger roiling through her system, Abby exhaled and left the club. She pushed the call button for the elevator several times. Coming after him had been a mistake. One she wouldn’t make again. She might not be looking for a relationship, but she also couldn’t get involved with a man like Trevor. She was glad she’d seen him because, even though she would still count him as a friend, she now knew exactly what type of guy Trevor Jones was. And it was all she needed to affirm her decision to stay away from men in general. Whether they were quick to fall in love or they were players, it was best for her to stay away from all of them.
Three months later...
“WHAT CAN I get you?” Abby leaned over the bar to hear the order of a heavily made-up woman over the pounding music. Swerve was packed that night and the music was loud and driving. Wednesday nights were never usually so busy. But semester break had started and the college students were out en masse.
The woman, definitely past college age by a number of years, pursed her red lips. “Can I get two screaming orgasm shots?”
Abby had no idea what the woman was talking about.
She racked her brain for whatever a screaming orgasm shot could be, and she pulled out her phone to look up the recipe, but when she looked over at Trevor, who was busy filling his own orders, and realized that she had the opportunity to have a little fun with him.
“Hey, Trev,” she called across the bar. “Think you can give this lady a couple of screaming orgasms?”
Trevor smirked and finished his own drinks before sauntering over to her. “I think I can handle that.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”
Abby rolled her eyes and walked away. Of course the blonde wearing all that makeup was most definitely Trevor’s type. And even though she basically served the woman up to Trevor, Abby couldn’t help but feel a small wrench of something—hurt? Jealousy?—in the pit of her stomach as she watched Trevor flirt with her. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced since Vegas, seeing Trevor with that other woman at the bar, just after they’d kissed. Abby had never told him that she’d come back to the bar three months ago and seen him with that woman.
And now it was too late. Their relationship had long transcended potentially romantic to become strictly platonic. Sure, they were flirty and frequently peppered their conversation with naughty double entendres, but they were friends, and, with Maya living in Las Vegas, Abby greatly appreciated having a good friend, even if he was definitely not the type of guy she was going to date...if she was ever going to date anyone again.
Which she wasn’t.
But being friends hadn’t stopped her from still feeling his lips on hers, and the promise of more that flowed from just a simple graze of their lips, the heat of his hand on her bare back...
Abby looked up. She was still in Swerve. Still in Montreal, not on top of the roof of Swerve’s Las Vegas location; meanwhile, dozens of thirsty patrons lined her bar. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by some guy, hunky sexpot, or not. She had to regain her focus. She had to concentrate on herself, getting her career back on track and not let herself get distracted by men, the ones who wanted a commitment or guys like Trevor. Bad boys. Players. She shook her head and got back to work.
Abby reached into the cooler and took out a couple of beer bottles. She popped off the tops and passed them to a man who was trying to catch her eye. She ignored his advances and continued on to the next customer. She cast another quick glance at Trevor, just as he turned his head and caught her looking at him. He pulled away from the woman, moving to fill other drink orders. But the woman called out to him again and reached out, grabbing his forearm, her long red nails grazing the dark ink that covered it. She handed him her card and Abby was surprised that the woman didn’t kiss it first, to leave a print of her red lipstick on it. Trevor smiled and pocketed it.
And another notch on the bedpost...
Why did she care?
When