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It’s our first night in Vegas for Jack’s bachelor weekend, and I haven’t been able to get the girl in the mask out of my head. All my usual tricks to get my mind focused have failed. She’s been running through my head like a movie on repeat, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m meant to find her.

Harry arranged a VIP booth in the Omnia Club in Casaers Palace, where we are staying. Jack let it slip that Ria and the girls were heading there for her bachelorette tonight, and suddenly our plans for the casino changed. I bet every dollar in my bank account Harry and Ali will be fucking before the weekend is over. Her reception towards him was frosty, but you can taste the sexual tension between them.

“Well, that took a turn, didn’t it? I thought you two were going to end up fucking right there on that couch,” I say to Harry as Aliwalks away and heads towards the booth the girls have. The girls had a set of bachelorette dare cards and Harry, never one to not get involved, pulled a card to give someone a lap dance, and Ali was his victim. “Yeah, well, the night is still young,” Harry says, but his focus isn’t on me, it’s on Ali. I have a lot of time for Ali. She’s a lot like me. She’s guarded, puts on a front, and keeps her cards close to her chest, and I’m grateful for her friendship.

A hand wraps around my forearm, and I know who it is without turning my head. Her delicate hand smooths up my inked skin, and I turn to embrace her.

“Hey, baby girl.” Gabriella’s big doe eyes look up at me. She’s tiny. I tower over her at 6ft 4, but her slight frame fits into mine as she wobbles on her heels and giggles.

“I’m drunk.” She hiccups and then giggles again.

“I can see that.”

“I wanna dance. Dance with me.” She begins to pull at my black dress shirt and lead me towards the dance floor. She’s in a black dress that sparkles when it catches the club lights. It has long sleeves and barely covers her ass, and it’s not something she would usually wear, but paired with the YSL heels, fuck, she looks hot as hell.

She’s your friend.

If someone asked me how I felt about Gabriella, I fear it would be an essay answer. It’s not as simple as ‘she’s my friend’. It is more. I don’t see her like a sister, and I think of her as more than a friend, but I have no desire to make it more than what we are. Because I don’t have it in me to be something to someone, least of all her. So, I settle for keeping her in the special spot in my heart that will only ever be reserved for Gabriella Monroe.

“I don’t dance, baby girl. You know that,” I say as she continues to pull me towards the dance floor where Ali, Kate, and Harley, who work at our club, are dancing with our old friends, from the marines, Mason and Brett.

“Fine.” She huffs in defeat. “Then you can watch me dance.”

“Happy to.” I grin, giving her a wink. She smiles back, waving, stumbling slightly, and I give it thirty minutes before I’m carrying her up to her room and putting her to bed like I’ve done many times before. The girl can’t handle her liquor. A few drinks, and she’s three sheets to the wind. I don’t actively encourage drinking, but for Gabriella, it allows her to come out of her shell a little and it’s a beautiful thing to witness.

I sip on the whiskey I’ve been nursing. Not even in Vegas will I stray from my one whiskey rule. Drinking excessively has got me into trouble in the past. I relied on it to help me cope with stress, which isn’t ideal, so I can’t risk falling back into old patterns. It got me out of bed, it got me through the day, and it got me to sleep. One drink allows me a little pleasure, but never enough to fully lose control.

“Damn, she can move. Is she a dancer?” Brett asks, coming up beside me, his eyes fixated on Gabriella. I love Brett, but first he was sniffing round Ali when we first met up with the girls this weekend and now Gabriella. He can fuck off.

“Yeah, she went to Julliard, I think,” I mumble.

“Shit, she’s good.” I follow his line of sight and watch Gabriella dance between Kate and Ali. Sure, they can all dance, but there’s something about the way Gabriella moves. Her hips rotate, and she backs up against Ali and smooths her hands down her body; it reminds me of the girl in the red mask. I shake my head to rid my mind of her and focus on the girls. I observe a guy try to wedge his way between her and Ali, and my body tenses.

Ali turns away and dances with Kate, and I watch with burning jealousy as the guy snakes his arms around Gabriella’s waist and moves in sync with her. I drain my drink, ice included, and crunch it so vigorously I’m surprised I don’t crack a tooth. I unashamedly stare as she dances with this man for three songs. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he nuzzles into herneck. On the one hand, I’m happy for her. She must like him if she’s dancing with him, and I know she doesn’t give herself freely to men, so this is a big deal for her, and the other, I want to storm over there and tear him off her.

Not able to watch this display a second longer, I turn to Brett and say through gritted teeth. “I think I’m going to head up to the suite.”

He nods in understanding, and I go to leave when I hear him say, “You might want to wait a minute.”

I turn my head to see where he’s looking, and I see an exchange between Gabby and the guy. They are no longer on the dance floor, but standing to the side, and he has her by the hand. She shakes her head as if she’s telling him no, and she tries to pull her hand free. The prick doesn’t seem to be getting the message and pulls her back towards him by the waist. She holds her hands up to his chest and tries to push him away.

Oh, fuck no.

Without hesitation, I stride over to them, clamping a firm hand down on his shoulder. “I believe she told you no,” I say sternly.

They both glance up at me, and relief flashes over Gabriella’s face. It makes my heart pound harder in my chest, knowing she needs me.

“Fuck off. We were just talking. Mind ya business. The guy yells back, moving Gabriella closer towards him. If I wasn’t annoyed before, now I’m fucking raging. I gently move Gabriella to the side and square up to this Zac Efron look-alike.

“I said she told you no. Now get your hands off her before I break them.”

He lets go of her hand and holds his up in surrender. I’m well aware of my appearance and the demeanor I give off. Being tall and covered in tattoos has its advantages at times.

“Good boy. Now run along,” I mock, and he scurries away without giving Gabriella a second glance. I turn to face Gabriella, pulling her into me. She nestles her face into my chest, and warmth spreads throughout my chest as I press a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” She shakes her head and then looks up at me, her eyes heavy and bloodshot.

Oh, she’s had way too much to drink.