A/N: Thanks for the lovely response to chapter 1! I don't think I mentioned this last time, but I've got inspiration pics on my blog - link is in my profile. Let's get to it, shall we? Enjoy!
I'm so consumed with replaying the last few hours over and over in my memory that I barely respond to the cabbie when he asks where he should drop me. Luckily he must understand me, because he deposits me in front of Mandalay Bay.
I realize as the doorman ushers me into the opulent lobby that I haven't responded to any of Rose's texts. At this point, I may as well just wait until I get up to the room; another five minutes won't make a difference.
When I finally make it up to the room, I'm confused when there's no one else in the suite Alice has booked us into. I check my phone and realize I should have been paying more attention and not fantasizing about my mile-high hunk. I have a series of increasingly irritated messages from Rose, starting with worrying where I am and ending with a message saying they weren't going to wait any longer and were heading out to Hyde. There was lots of pleading to join them as soon as I got in.
I glance at the digital clock on the bedside table and wince when it's already nearly midnight. My bedtime was like two hours ago and I decide to get ready for bed rather than get ready for the club. I feel a little guilty for skipping out on the first of Rose's bachelorette festivities, but I'm still recovering from the stress of flying and, if I'm being honest, I'd like a like a little more time to bask in the afterglow of meeting Edward.
As I'm brushing my teeth, I realize this would be the perfect time to send Edward a text. He's probably at home asleep already, so there's no pressure. I can just send him a quick message, which will give him my number, and put the ball in his court.
I grab my phone and the scrap of paper Edward gave me in the airport and send him a quick message.
B: Cabs are almost as scary as airplanes. Luckily, made it to the hotel in one piece. Am I a loser for skipping out on Hyde in favor of my bed?
I go back to wash my face and jump when my phone buzzes almost immediately
E: I would choose your bed over Hyde any night, pretty girl
I feel myself flush in pleasure at his words. I'm feeling bold when not faced with his piercing gaze, and decide to let myself say things I wish I were brave enough to say in person.
B: Too bad you can't join me. It looks like a nice, big, comfy bed. Lots of room to sprawl.
E: I wouldn't need much room. I wouldn't let you get that far away from me.
B: Sharing the suite with four other women might be a little awkward though. Unless you're into that kind of thing
E: No, pretty girl. When I get you into bed, I'm not sharing you with anyone
B: When? Not if? Awfully cocky
E: You have no idea ;)
B: Maybe if you were here you could show me ;)
E: Don't tease, love
B: Who's teasing?
E: You have no idea what you're doing to me
B: I bet I have some idea, if it's anything like what you do to me
E: You're killing me, pretty girl. Are you sure you won't have time to have that drink with me?
B: Probably not, especially ditching out on tonight. I'm going to have to make it up to Rose
E: Well if you change your mind, you know how to reach me
B: This bed looks awfully lonely...
E: *groans* you can't say things like that, love. I have to work tomorrow and I won't be able to concentrate
B: Sucks to be you. Good night, cocky boy ;)
E: Oh, no, it most definitely does not suck to be me. Not since I met you. Sweet dreams, pretty girl :)
I plug my phone into the charger and snuggle into the plush bedding. I can't keep the grin off my face as I revel in my interactions with Edward. As impossible as it is for me to believe, he seems to be attracted to me. A guy like him can probably have any woman he wants.
Or maybe he's just the kind of guy who flirts with anything with a pair of breasts. He didn't strike me as that kind of guy on the plane, but then again we didn't exactly talk much. Oh, well. I just have to keep reminding myself that I'll never see him again. I can send him a few flirty messages, but that's the extent of it.
My dreams that night are filled with white sheets, tan skin, and piercing green eyes.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The next day, the bachelorette events are in full swing. We sleep in since the girls didn't get back from Hyde until nearly 2 am, then grab a late breakfast in the hotel lobby. Luckily, Rose is too busy nursing her hangover to interrogate me too intensely about why I didn't respond to her texts or join them at Hyde. I'm grateful; usually I share all my boy drama with her, but for some reason, I want to keep Edward to myself for just a little longer.
After breakfast, we spend several hours just lounging by the pool. I'm grateful Alice didn't pack our day full of crazy activities. That afternoon though, I'm wishing I hadn't counted my blessings quite so soon.
First, when Alice announces she has booked us all spa treatments, I'm excited at the prospect of a massage and maybe a facial. However, she's also booked us for waxing. Having my body hair ripped en masse from my flesh is not something I usually do willingly. When I protest, Alice throws me her puppy dog eyes and Rose lays on the guilt trip, so I finally begrudgingly relent.
After I've been subjected to waxing of my eyebrows, legs, and bikini line, Alice announces it is makeover time. This is even worse to me than the waxing. But, because I'm a good friend, I keep my protests to myself and let Alice and Rose do my hair, makeup, and dress me up in a ridiculous cocktail dress.
I have to admit though, when we're all done, the five of us look pretty hot. Alice decided we needed to "coordinate", so we're all wearing sequin-covered dresses. Mine is a dark blue one-shoulder dress. Alice is in pink, Rose's friend Kate is in black, and her co-worker Victoria is in green. Rose herself is in a skin-tight silver dress that looks absolutely spectacular on her.
I assume we're just going to a club to dance and drink, but you know what they say about assuming. Next thing I know, we're making our way to the monorail and riding it a few hotels down to Excalibur so that we can see Thunder from Down Under, which showcases, according to Alice, "the hottest pieces of man-meat west of the Mississippi". Apparently we're hitting every bachelorette party cliché, because we're going to see male strippers. I want to kill Rose for making me come to this, but I bite my tongue and follow along anyway. Maybe if I drink enough, I can tolerate it.
Of course we're sitting in the VIP area, closest to the stage. I won't be able to ignore the "man-meat" no matter how hard I try. I sigh and look around for the waiter. At least we get pretty decent service since Rose is wearing her bachelorette tiara. We do a round of shots to kick the night off right (Alice insists on Screaming Orgasms first, because a girl can hope, right?), and I'm just finishing my Long Island when the lights dim and the first chords of "It's Raining Men" boom out of the speaker system.
I roll my eyes. Could this be any cheesier? And then the men come out on stage and I'm not rolling my eyes anymore. I recognize these guys. They were the ones on the flight into Vegas with me yesterday. My jaw is hanging open and I can vaguely hear Rose asking me "What's wrong?"
"I was on the plane out here with these guys yesterday," I finally gasp.
"You lucky bitch!" Victoria shrieks.
"Oh my god, that would be the best in-flight entertainment, ever!" Kate adds.
"They were wearing their clothes," I snort, rolling my eyes.
"Bummer," Alice remarks, eyes trained on the men appearing on stage. "But they're hot even with their clothes on."
"Amen," we all agree.
That's why they were all dressed similarly on the plane, why they were all buff and ungodly beautiful. They're male strippers. Something is tickling at the back of my mind, but the alcohol I've consumed is making me fuzzy. The last guy saunters on stage, and I just about fall out of my chair. Suddenly, that tickle is crystal clear, and standing right in front of me.
Edward.
Edward is a male stripper.
Oh my god, I'm going to see Edward naked.
We had hinted at something like that in our text conversation last night, but I don't think this is quite what he meant. I slam the rest of my drink and signal to the waiter for the next round, and he's quick to oblige. I'm going to need copious amounts of liquid courage to handle this turn of events.
As the men start their routine, I can't take my eyes off Edward. He's smiling, flirting with the crowd, milking it for all he can. His eyes are scanning the crowd, and they skim past me quickly, then boomerang back to meet my stare. His steps falter for just a moment, but he quickly picks back up where he should be in the routine.
His eyes haven't left mine yet as he continues dancing. By now, the guys have removed their trench coats and are in slacks and button-downs, but I haven't taken my eyes off Edward. As the song reaches its crescendo, they guys rip their shirts open and the crowd of women goes wild. I don't scream - my mouth is so dry at the sight of Edwards chiseled bare chest that I can only squeak. I nearly knock my glass over as I fumble to reach for it, pulling it up and taking a long pull. My reaction causes Edward to smirk at me. I wish I were capable of doing anything besides stare, but I'm not.
Finally the song is over, and as the men leave the stage, I see Edward lean over and whisper into the ear of the blonde guy from the plane. His head whips back to look at our table, and when he makes eye contact with me, his face splits into a wide smile and he punches Edward's shoulder. With one last smoldering look in my direction, Edward disappears backstage, and I collapse back in my seat.
I'm trying to calm my heart rate when I realize all four of the other women at my table are gaping at me as if I've sprouted another head. Rose is the first to speak.
"Um, what the fuck was that?!"
"What?" I mutter, feigning ignorance.
"Why was that guy looking at you like this show might turn into a porn rather than a strip show?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I argue, but my blush gives me away, even in the dark club.
"Bitch, you're lying. What's going on between you and that fuckhot stripper?" Rose demands.
"Nothing's going on. I told you we were on the same flight. I sat next to him." There, that's true at least. Maybe not the entire story, but still true enough.
"You just sat next to him?"
"What, you think I gave him a mid-flight hand job or something?" I scoff.
"Well, fuck, he certainly looked like he wouldn't mind a mid-performance hand job from you," Alice chimes in. I glare at her, then Rose.
"He sat next to me. That's it. We didn't even talk beyond introducing ourselves," I insist. Technically still true. We didn't talk...we just cuddled the whole flight. And then texted afterwards. Technically, we didn't talk - we wrote.
They all eye me skeptically, but by then the next performance is starting, so that draws their attention back to the stage and off of me. I breathe a sigh of relief at having their scrutiny lifted, and settle in to enjoy my ogling.