I felt the frenetic longing grow in my chest. A tightening; the way I feel at the start of a rugby match . . . but deeper inside me, and everywhere. It spread from my thorax out to the end of every limb, pulsing hotly in each fingertip. I needed to get to her, give her what she’d begged to come to Vegas to do.

When I told Sara that the only weekend we could do Bennett’s bachelor party was Valentine’s weekend, her first reaction was to laugh and remind me that she hated Valentine’s Day. Her ex had always fucked it up, she’d said, and I was secretly pleased she didn’t want to make a thing of it anyway. We celebrated our relationship almost every fucking night in my bed, and most definitely every Wednesday night in our room at Red Moon. Valentine’s Day was an insignificant blurb on the calendar compared to all that.

But Sara’s second, lingering reaction was to step closer, run her hands up my chest, and ask if she could come, too. “I promise I won’t crash the rest of the party,” she whispered, eyes wide and mysteriously combining uncertainty and lust. “The bachelor weekend can go on as planned; I just want to play at Black Heart one time.”

Before I could even find the single word to answer her, I’d bent to kiss her, and that kiss had transformed into her hands in my hair and my mouth on her tits. And that had moved on to hard and fast sex on my kitchen counter. Afterward, I’d collapsed onto her, panting against the damp skin of her neck: “Fuck yes, you can come to Vegas.”

Rearranging my features into something calmer, I sat back down and felt Bennett’s attention on my face as I picked up my drink.

“What was all that about?” he asked, watching Johnny disappear behind the black rope.

“That,” I answered, “was about the room that is being prepared for you.”

“For me?” Bennett pressed a hand to his chest, already resisting. “Again, Max, I’m going to pass.”

I groaned, giving him a skeptical glance. “The fuck you are.”

“You’re serious.”

We argued a bit longer, until I could see him give in. His face grew determined and he hesitated, contemplating his vodka, and then downed it.

“Fuck it.” He put his glass down, shot up from his chair, and marched determined down the hall.