Page 96 of A Vegas Crush Collection #3

where no planes fly

Tripp

After so many years of living on the West Coast, snow is something of a novelty to me now.

Growing up in Toronto, snow was just part of life.

It snowed when I played for New York, too, but when I moved to Nashville, there was a lot less snow.

And I had to get used to a whole new climate when I got to Anaheim.

I’ve gotten spoiled by the sun, I think.

I know this since I can’t help frowning at the snow squall swirling outside.

After a couple of days off with my family, I was so ready to take off that I left for the airport two hours earlier than necessary.

I’ve been sitting here in blessed alone-ness, watching Netflix on my phone with no one to bother me for those last two hours.

What I missed was the blizzard happening outside during that time.

Now, as I stare out to the tarmac through the wall of windows, I can see several inches of the white stuff threatening to keep me from getting back to Vegas at all, for today at least.

As I look around, I see Lila heading to my gate, a heavy winter coat draped over her arm but no bag in tow.

She sees the gate first, then her eyes find me.

Her steps stutter just a bit before she stops walking, takes a deep breath, and then forges forward.

She takes the empty seat right across from me.

“I have a feeling we’re not getting out of here,” she comments as she organizes her ID back into her wallet.

All I can do is make a noncommittal grunt.

I should have suspected she’d be on the same flight as me, but here I am, surprised to see her.

She looks amazing—her long hair twisted into a loose bun on top of her head, cheeks rosy from the cold.

She has on a black turtleneck sweater that hugs the lovely curves of her breasts.

It shouldn’t be sexy, but somehow it is.

Tall black boots cover her form fitting jeans to the knee. She’s utterly perfect.

Christ, I’m an idiot. I want to talk to her, but a whole pile of nothing comes to mind.

I mean, what do you say to the woman of your dreams after she kisses you and then you bail on her?

I haven’t stopped thinking about it since it happened.

The way she told me she’s not a child. The way her lips searched mine, looking for some spark between us.

And it was there. Every spark of feeling for Lila I’ve ever spent time repressing—for so, so fucking long—it was all there. I felt it with every stroke of my tongue against hers and in the way she fit in my arms when I picked her up.

And then I bailed to keep from doing or saying something I’d never be able to take back.

I fiddle with my phone, just to keep from looking at her. I don’t want to see the question in her eyes. Or the hurt. Or the judgment. I don’t want to answer her questions. I put my earbuds back in and watch one of my subscription channels on YouTube.

When I look back up, there’s a lot more than a couple of inches of snow on the ground. It’s really about a foot now. Pulling out my buds, I hear other gates calling off flights.

“Fuck,” I growl, standing up and shouldering my backpack.

It’s only a moment before our flight gets called too.

Folks stand and rush to get in line to find alternative transport or hotels in which to stay.

I make my way to the line, noticing that it takes Lila a minute to gather her things.

I should offer her a spot with me, but being that close to her?

No. I can’t do that. Plus, if I offer to help, she’ll surely spout some shit about being a capable woman who can handle her own affairs.

So fine, she can handle her own affairs.

It takes an hour to get to the front of the line.

The airline employee tells me my flight will be rescheduled for tomorrow, provided they can get things cleaned up, and that they’ll call me when I have a flight number and time.

She then tells me that I’m getting the last of the hotel airport rooms. They book me in and hand me a prepaid credit card to use for food and incidentals.

As I step away with my instructions, an announcement is made that all airport hotels are now full. I look over to find Lila staring at me, an expression of worry on her face.

The asshole in me—which admittedly, is probably the biggest part of me—wants to walk off and not worry about it.

But the other part of me—the part that has always tried to protect Lila Marchmont-Terry—cannot stand the idea of her trying to sleep in the airport for the night.

I weigh the situation in my head for only a moment, deciding that the room probably has two beds, and I can probably handle sharing a room with an old friend for a single night.

I hope.

Maybe I should just give her my room and stay here instead.

“You got the last room, huh?” Lila asks as I approach.

“Seems like it. But I’ll let you take it if you want?”

“I couldn’t do that.”

“It’s no big deal. I can literally sleep anywhere. I’ll feel better if you take it, though.”

“And I’ll feel better not leaving you to sleep in the airport,” she snaps back. “There might be two beds, right? We can probably share for one night, can’t we?”

We stare at each other, mirroring each other’s trepidation. There’s no way to not think about the kiss we shared. I open my mouth, but no words come out.

“We can be adults,” she says. “It’s decided.”

That’s what I’m worried about. Being adults together in a hotel room.

We make the long trek back through the airport, down through baggage claim, where they tell us our bags are already loaded and will be ready for us on tomorrow’s flight. Lila groans unhappily and says, “So I have nothing. No toiletries, nothing to sleep in…”

“That’s not a big deal. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

She shoots me a look but doesn’t argue, leading the way toward the hotel shuttle stop. Ten minutes later, we’re at the hotel and the desk clerk is saying, “All I have left is one single king room.”

Of course, there’s only one bed.

Just my luck.

Neither of us says a word as we enter the elevator, nor as we walk the long hallway to the room.

Inside, we find a modest space with a king-sized bed, a small table with two chairs, and a media console.

We both sort of stand around, awkward, looking around the room.

There isn’t really room for me to even sleep on the floor.

My stomach flips a little at the thought of lying in a bed with Lila. I won’t sleep a wink.

“I thought I might sleep on the floor…” My voice trailing off. I am at a total loss here.

“We’ll be fine,” Lila says. “It’s a big bed. It’s one night. My main concern is not having anything to sleep in.”

“I’m sure they have stuff down in the shops.” I don’t know what compels me to offer the suggestion, but my mouth spits out the words anyway. “Why don’t I run down and see?”

She looks at me oddly for a moment but then nods her head. “Thanks, that’s very kind of you.”

I beat feet to the door and leave, taking a full breath as soon as I get into the hallway to recalibrate.

The tension between us is so thick and heavy.

Almost like a chemical burn. At least it is for me.

Perhaps she’s unaffected. Perhaps my pushing her away after we kissed dissolved whatever spark of interest Lila ever had for me.

Or perhaps…I should get my shit together and act like a grown-ass man and go find the stuff she needs to get through the night.

It will shock no one to find out that my knowledge about shopping for women’s clothing and toiletries is next to zero.

That said, I bungle around the gift shop, grabbing a couple of pairs of sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt, all emblazoned with Toronto branding.

I grab toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant, a razor, ChapStick.

So much random. My head starts to pound a little.

I add a small bottle of Advil to my pile.

“Some storm,” the cashier says. “Looks like I’ll be sleeping in the employee break room for the night.”

“That sucks,” I answer, slipping my credit card in the slot and gathering up the random pile of shit that just cost me two hundred bucks.

I look at the cashier, a woman maybe slightly older than Lila, and she’s biting her lip in a way that makes me uncomfortable. She looks…hopeful?

Oh.

“I’m, uh, here with my girlfriend,” I lie. “I hope this stuff fits her. We couldn’t get our luggage back from the airline.”

The hopeful expression fades quickly as she bags my items and I can’t get out of there fast enough.

The restaurant is a mob scene, but that doesn’t stop my stomach from rumbling as I make my way back up to the room.

I hand the shopping bag over to Lila as soon as I’m through the door. “I hope you can do something with this lot.”

“Let’s see what you’ve brought me,” she says as she takes the bag over to the bed and dumps it out. She goes through everything quickly, picking up some items to check the size, a slight smirk on her face. When she turns to me, she’s holding up the T-shirt that looks easily three sizes too big.

“I know I’m curvy, but…”

I can’t help but laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t know your size. Also, I just realized I’m famished, but the restaurant is a monster crowd scene right now. Should we just order room service?”

She nods her head, still staring at the giant T-shirt. “I suppose we should.”

After placing our order, Lila slips into the bathroom to change. I hear the shower come on and try not to imagine her naked in it.

This is going to be a very long night.

Thirty minutes later, when she emerges, it’s a struggle for me to keep myself from going completely hard.

I’ve switched into a pair of joggers and a T-shirt myself, but I’m certain I don’t look nearly as sexy as she does, with her beautiful hair loose around her shoulders, the giant blue Toronto T-shirt hanging off one shoulder.

And…nothing else.