1. Sam

sam

. . .

Three Months Later

I'm in the middle of a battle scene in the chapter I'm reading when my alarm blares from my phone. I pick it up, turn it off, and toss it back onto the couch. I could be late if I finish this chapter; worth it to see who'll come out on top in the end.

Are you fucking kidding me? He's fucking dead? She offed him?

I toss my device onto my bed, disappointed that my favourite character died, and I drag my arse out of bed to prepare for a night out with my mate. He performs at the casino next door to mine, so our schedules never sync properly. I don't remember the last time we had a drink together, but I can guarantee it'll be short. I'm sure he'll find a gorgeous tourist to shag for the night, leaving me to fend for myself at the bar.

I grab my keys and head out to The Standards, a small bar on the strip. Parking will be a fucking nightmare, so I pull into The Royal next door, where I work, and park in an employee space. I take a quick glance in the rearview mirror and brush a few stray locks of hair off my forehead.

Fuck, are those grey?

There are three new ones that have appeared out of fucking nowhere overnight. I'm thirty-six and in the best shape of my life, but I'm sprouting greys like I'm some kind of silver fox in his fifties.

I make my way to the bar, finding David chatting with a blonde who appears to be missing her pants. Living in Vegas, it doesn't shock me, but I'm still surprised he's flirting with someone who has to be half his age. We're getting too old for this shit.

Taking a seat next to him, I clear my throat, and he turns to face me. "Sam! What the fuck took you so long?" he laughs and slides his hand around the woman's waist. "Let me introduce you to my new friend…" She whispers to him. "Candy."

"Pleasure," I groan, then quickly plaster on the fake smile I"m all too accustomed to when chatting with tourists.

"You're British? Fuck, that's hot. You should meet my friend, Tiffany. She loves accents; she's obsessed with that show with the guy who saves the girl."

"Well, that certainly narrows it down." David glares at me, so I correct, "Wonderful, where's your friend?"

"Tiffany!" she calls across the bar. "Daniel has a hot friend."

"His name is—" David smacks my arm and shushes me. "Seriously?" I whisper.

Candy's friend joins us, clearly expecting me to offer to buy her a drink. She's pretty, but she's not my type. A one-night fuck, at best. "If you'll excuse me, I need to use the loo."

"He said loo," she swoons, and I can't seem to get away from them fast enough as I cross the bar to the toilets.

Once out of sight, I bypass the loo and sneak out of the bar to the casino next door. With David preoccupied, I doubt he'll mind if I bow out for the evening. Snaking through the slot machines, I approach the closest bar and take a seat. One of my favourite bartenders, Tyler, spots me, and a curt nod is all it takes before a gin and tonic is set in front of me.

The woman to my right is reading on her ereader, and I huff a small laugh at the disparity with her attire—she's wearing a short, silver dress and red heels. Not someone I would expect to be reading at a bar. Feeling a bit nosey, I take a peek and spot a bit of dialogue in the book:

"You're mine for the night, my Becca. If I say you have to wait, you're gonna be a good fucking girl and wait."

I sip my drink and continue reading over her shoulder for a few minutes. It's been a while since I've read smut in a novel, but I'm invested in the story. She moves to the next page and we both gasp at an intriguing limousine scene where the man is feasting on her cunt. Unfortunately, I've accidentally given myself away.

The woman slaps the ereader onto the bar face down, a blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks. I finally get a good look at her and… fuck me, she's gorgeous. Her hair tied up in a tight bun, understated makeup, and purple, plastic-rimmed glasses—definitely giving me a sexy librarian vibe.

For the first time all day, a genuine smile paints my face as I apologise, "Sorry, do you mind if I finish that scene?" I gesture to her device.

"Oh, uh… sure." She sheepishly but willingly lifts it and slides it over to me. "Just bookmark where I'm at first?"

"Of course. I'm not a monster," I chuckle and a smirk that I can't help tugs at my lips.

"What am I going to read now?" she teases, and without hesitation, I pull out my phone and tap on my reading app.

"Whatever you like?" Taking my phone, she eyes me with suspicion and scrolls through my downloaded books.

Once she's settled on a title, I click the little symbol in the corner to flag her book for her and continue reading on. I glance over, and she nervously adjusts herself on her seat and drinks what appears to be a vodka soda or gin and tonic in three gulps, setting it down daintily on the paper napkin. Before she can, I lift my hand to order her another, not tearing my eyes away from the ereader. Tyler brings over a gin and tonic for me, and I finally look up. "Sorry, mate, I meant for her."

"You don't have to."

"I insist."

"Thank you," she says softly, returning her attention to the story on my phone. Tyler brings her another drink while I finish the scene, which she sips much slower. I'd love to continue the book, but the need to get to know her is significantly stronger than knowing what happens in the second half of the story. I hand the device back to her, and she slides my phone over to me. Repositioning her glasses, she quickly looks ahead and draws her lips into her mouth for a moment, wetting them. "No spoilers, please."

"I would never," I playfully reply. She looks back to me and I catch her taking in my appearance. I can't help but ask, "Here on vacation?" My hope being that she lives here and is not another tourist.

"No…" She winces with a small grimace. "I mean, yes."

I raise an eyebrow. "Which is it?"

"No," she concedes with a sigh. "I just moved here. It's easier to tell everyone I'm visiting. What about you?"

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Same as you, though I've lived here for six years."

"An Englishman who reads smut and lives in Vegas… I don't think that's on my bachelorette bingo," she giggles.

"You should know better than to judge a book by its cover. I'll have you know, I'm full of surprises."

She smiles, and it's one that meets her chestnut-brown eyes. I"m like a moth to a flame, unable to look away. "You have me there. What do you read besides fantasy and romantic comedies?"

I glance at her ereader. "I'd hardly call that a romantic comedy."

"Are you book-shaming me?" she asks with an exaggerated gasp.

"Not at all. You could be reading paranormal erotica, a mafia romance, or even a nonfiction title, and I wouldn't judge." She shudders at the last suggestion. "Now who's judging?"

"I would never," she feigns insult. She clutches her chest, my eyes falling to her hand, but snapping back up to her eyes just as quickly.

"So, you're here for a hen do?"

"A hen what?"

"Hen do… Bachelorette party. Your friend is getting married, yes?" She nods, and I follow up, "Where's your badge or sash?"

She shrugs. "I tossed that hours ago."

"Not a fan of a night of debauchery?"

The enchanting woman lets out a full laugh and replies, "Hardly."

"Neither am I. Have you been to the wine bar here? It's a lot quieter than the casino floor."

"No, but I'm sure they're closed."

"You want to go? I'm sure they'll make an exception for us." I wink, earning me a laugh. I lift my hand to signal to Tyler who begins making me another drink, even with one and a half sitting in front of me. "Can we close out?" He stops pouring the gin and raises an eyebrow at me. "After that one."

Tyler finishes preparing my drink and sets it in front of me. I slide it over to my new friend, only now does it occur to me that I don't know her name. I hand him a hundred dollar bill, and he pulls her card from the glass with her tab, handing it back to her.

"Oh, you don't need to?—"

"Come on, let's head over to the wine bar and have that night of debauchery you're so fond of."

"If it doesn't involve pyjamas and a book, I'm out," she laughs.

Eyes wide, I still. "Can we? Fuck, that sounds bloody brilliant. Gin, a good book…"

She brings the glass to her lips, speaking into it, "Are you for real?"

"I'm most definitely real, but I could say the same about you." I offer my hand. "Sam."

Her hand slides into mine, and I swear a warm tingle runs up my arm. "Isla."

Fuck, her name is pretty, too?

She takes back her hand and drinks her gin and tonic in a few gulps, chuckling to herself, "Knew I'd be gin-drunk tonight."

"This may be forward of me, but would you like to come home with me and have a night in? Read a book or two, have a drink?"

"Depends, smut-lover. I've seen what ebooks you have, but which do you prefer: paperback or hardcover?"

"Hardcover for the shelf and paperback for bedtime reading," I reply without hesitation.

Isla's smile is wide, and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever fucking seen. "Perfect answer."