The days of Macey being here and at my beck and call are numbered and I’m letting my heart get the best of me. Instead of doing the logical thing of going to work, I’m taking Macey away from Vegas for the day, showing her the Grand Canyon. I’m rationalizing this by saying to myself that she’s never seen the majestic beauty of the Colorado Plateau, she’s never experienced the Hoover Dam, traveled on Route 66 or tasted the freshness of handmade tortillas off the side of the road. And while all of this makes sense in my head, I’m regretting my decision. I’m straddling the proverbial tightrope and if I’m not careful I’m going to end up losing at my own game.
Truth is, after last night, after being with her without a barrier, something changed and as much as I don’t want to admit it, I don’t want her to leave. Except, she will and I’ll make sure of it, despite this feeling inside of me. Relationships are complicated and I can’t offer her whatever she may be looking for. Hell, I can’t offer it to myself because the thought of being with someone long term seems so foreign to me that it’s not an avenue I want to traverse. Not to mention, there’s someone named Morgan standing in the way. I asked her to take a shower with me, she agreed, and when she didn’t come in I went to look for her, spotting her in the kitchen talking on her phone. I stayed there, eavesdropping, until I heard the words that caused me to take a step back. I didn’t expect my heart to feel anything when she told Morgan that she loved him, but it did. And I hate myself for it. I’ve let myself become emotionally invested in her and that has to stop.
It’s rare that I take days off from work, but today I’m making an exception. Taking this drive is something I want to do. Not for me, but for her, because regardless of my inability to commit, Macey has done everything I’ve asked of her even when I didn’t deserve it. The top is off on the Jeep Wrangler and Macey is dressed casually in shorts and a tank top. Her hair is piled on the top of her head with wisps flying everywhere from the forced wind, and dark sunglasses shade her blue eyes. Eyes that told me so much last night that I didn’t even have to ask her how she felt. Each time I look over at her, her head is on a swivel taking in the sights of the desert, pointing in amazement and yelling questions at me. I know that today is something she’ll remember when she returns home. Maybe she’ll even bring Morgan back and remember that it was me who brought her here first. Sex is easily forgettable, especially when you’re being paid. When she goes home, I’m sure I’ll be the furthest thing from her mind. Besides, Morgan will be waiting for her. He’s probably a pimp or someone like that. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the more I think about him, the more pissed I get.
The more I’ve thought about her leaving, the more curious I have been. Many times I’ve been tempted to ask Lamar to figure out where exactly home is, but the less I know the better. Cutting ties with Macey is the only option that is feasible for me.
Pulling off the highway, we head toward the Hoover Dam. Years ago, Arizona constructed a new bridge, moving traffic away from the dam and, with increased security, making the dam a bona fide tourist site. After the car is searched and a small drive, we reach the parking area. Thankfully, it’s still early enough in the day that it’s not crowded with tourists.
“Ready?” I ask her, popping the latch on not only my seatbelt but hers as well. I don’t wait for her to answer before I’m moving around to the other side of the Jeep to open her door. When she’s out, she reaches for my hand, but as coyly as possible I slip it into my pocket. I need to get my head back into the game and shut my heart off. I don’t want her thinking that my thoughts have changed because they haven’t. The last thing I want to give her is hope that we have a future. She needs to know, without a doubt, that in two days we will never see each other again. I don’t care if she ends up in my casino again after this week. I’m done.
I pretend not to notice how put out she is that we’re not holding hands. She should be, considering I’ve held her hand all week, often initiating the contact. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest and her lower lip juts out, making me want to break my cardinal rule of no kissing on the lips. Fuck, that’s another rule I wanted to break last night. Hearing her cry out because of what I was doing to her body had me on edge. I wanted to swallow each of her moans and mix them with mine, but held back. Kissing is far too intimate for me and yet I find myself closer and closer to her mouth each time we’re together.
Macey leans against the bridge, her forearms rest on the railing while her hands dangle over the side. There’s a slight breeze, but between the rising heat of the desert and the stifling air, all it’s doing is making us hotter. The only consolation is that it’s not humid. I can deal with the high heat, but sweating my balls off is never enjoyable unless it’s a result of sex.
“They say if you throw a coin over the bridge your wishes will come true.” Macey looks out over the water while speaking.
“I think you heard that in a movie.”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
It dawns on me that she doesn’t have any money, and if she does she didn’t bring it with her. I promised her a week when I would pay for everything. Digging into my pocket I pull out a quarter, wondering what she’ll wish for. Eternal happiness? Wealth? I don’t know what someone in her position would want more of. If it were me…yeah, I don’t even know what I’d wish for.
I stand behind her, placing my arms through the gaps between her arms and body. It’s nothing but pure torture, but I can’t help myself as I inhale her scent. Nothing but warmth, coconut and lust seep through my system. I’d fuck her right now if there weren’t people looming around and taking pictures.
Opening my palm, the quarter rests there for her taking. I expect to feel her fingers push into my skin as she picks it up, but she uses only her nails as if touching me would give her a disease. Her reaction is exactly what I want. I want her pissed off at me. Not only will it make what I have planned for us later even better, but when she leaves, she’ll be counting her lucky stars that she’s finally rid of me.
Macey holds the quarter in her hand, letting it drop into the river below. The faint plop is barely heard among the noise and other people making wishes.
“What’d you wish for?” I ask, leaning into her only to have her turn slightly and give me a sideways glance.
“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
“You know the likelihood of your wish coming true is slim to nothing.”
Macey turns fully in my arms and leans against the railing. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Excuse me?” I counter.
“You’re like night and day and I can’t keep up. One minute you’re this nice man who treats me like I’m worth something and then the next you’re this cynical piece of shit.”
“And what am I now?”
“Definitely the piece of shit,” she says with a huff as she turns back around. If her hair were down, I have no doubt in my mind that she would’ve flipped it in my face, but it’s the eye roll that really makes her statement epic. In fact, she should market that shit because it was done so dramatically and with such flair that I’d pay for an instant replay.
“Piece of shit, huh?” I ask, trying to keep my voice low. Macey sighs again and leans slightly over the railing, pressing her ass into my groin. The reaction is instant and I have a feeling she knows this. “And why is that?”
“Because after last night, I thought…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t need to. I already know what she’s going to say. Macey thought after I fucked her without a condom that things would change between us. They did, but not the way she wants them to.
“Listen,” I say, tugging on her arm to turn her around. She does, but her movements are without attitude. “What happened last night was a mistake.” Her face pales and she looks away.
“You asked me to stay last night when I wanted to leave,” she says, poking me in the chest. “Last night at your stupid fundraiser I saw you with that other woman. She was pawing at you, draping herself all over you, and you expected me to stand next to you while this was going on. You never brushed her away. You laughed at whatever she was saying to you. I felt so used.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t the first time.”
I don’t know if everyone heard the slap, but it sure sounded loud when her hand hit my cheek as it echoed in my ear. And for dramatic effect, I leave my head turned to the side, letting the sting set in. I can’t believe she fucking slapped me, but I deserved it. What I said was a low blow, especially after I’ve already told her that I’ve never called her a whore. The word may not have come out of my mouth right then, but it was definitely implied.
I drop my hands, effectively freeing her, and rub my face. It fucking hurts, but it’s a stark reminder that I’m nothing but a fucking dick. Regardless of her profession, she deserves respect because that’s what she’s given me all week. Everything I’ve asked her to do, she’s done and done without complaint.
By the time I’m ready to face her, she’s gone. I look around the bridge quickly and find her walking toward the Arizona line. I think about chasing after her, but realize she probably needs her space, so I stay where I am, assuming her spot along the bridge wall and watching the river flow below me. Every few minutes, or more like thirty seconds, I’m looking down the bridge to find her. Sometimes I spot her easily, other times I have to squint, but she’s still at the dam, although she could be looking to hitch a ride back to Vegas.
I don’t know how much time passes before I’m walking toward her. She’s across the border and on the opposite side of the road, chatting with a security guard. This all but forces me to play it cool because one wrong move and my ass will be tossed in jail.
“Hey, babe.” I rest my hand on her hip and place a simple kiss on her cheek. The corner of her lip rises, I can feel it against my lips and her body sighs. As mad as she is at me, she still craves my touch. “Did you see everything you wanted to see?” I ask, hoping to set an amicable tone with the security guard.
“Yeah, we were only chatting.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that her statement can easily be taken out of context. I don’t know whether to walk away or wait patiently. She makes the choice easy for me and says goodbye to the guard then steps in front of me. I’m sure to keep my hand on her waist so he knows that she’s with me.
“I’m sorry I slapped you,” she says on our walk back to the car.
“I deserved it, Macey. I was out of line, but not about last night being a mistake. I shouldn’t have lost control like that and not protected us. It won’t happen again.”
“Okay.” Her voice is soft and barely above a whisper as we walk back toward the Wrangler. I help her in before climbing in myself. Once we’re back on the road, I can’t help but want to ease her mind. I reach over and place my hand on her bare leg, pulling it slightly closer to the middle. Her attempt to adjust against the leather seat is subtle. If it weren’t for the automatic cooling system, her legs would be burning right now.
Halfway back to Vegas, after we’ve stopped at a roadside hut for dinner, she laces her fingers with mine and turns her head so she can watch me. Every chance I get, I look at her and wonder if this is the woman she would’ve turned into if someone, even me, had paid her a little more attention in high school.