Page 35 of The Girlfriend Card (Vegas Sin #4)

Guilty Pleasure

Ottavia

Two weeks later.

A funny thing happened after I stayed that very first night with Dakota: I stayed the next night, too.

And the night after that.

And the night after that one, too.

I never intended to stay that many nights in a row, but the days seemed to fly by, because hanging out with Dakota was so much fun.

It helped, too, that our schedules pulled us apart for just long enough—he with his twice-a-day workouts, and me with my shifts at BarDown—that we were always excited to meet up again at the end of the day.

Spending time with him was my guilty pleasure—I felt so good when I was with him. He made me laugh nonstop. He wasn’t intimidated by my wealth; instead, he made me feel like I was a normal girl. And the sex was amazing. It just kept getting better, each and every time.

So why did I say it was my guilty pleasure, then?

Good question. I’m not sure.

I guess because, deep down, there was a feeling that I was … well … letting myself become attached … letting myself fall … for something, for somebody, I knew I could never have.

And I could tell he was falling for me, too.

Yeah.

Yeah, that’s pretty much why it made me feel guilty.

It felt irresponsible, in a way. It was the only thing wrong with our connection.

But one day after another passed until two whole weeks had gone by, and we hadn’t spent a single night apart.

It’s funny to me to think back to the beginning of summer, when all I wanted was the quintessential “normal college girl” experience.

And after two weeks with Dakota, I finally started to feel like a normal college girl:

I had a job.

I had a car. (Dakota not only continued to give me driving lessons, he also loaned me the use of his “winter car,” a Mercedes sedan. And because we’d obtained my learner’s permit at the DMV, I could actually drive on the road legally.)

I even had a—summer fling? A friend with benefits?

Dunno. It’s complicated. Dakota and I never really discussed what we were.

Obviously, we liked each other, and our relationship was physical, and I’d be absolutely gutted if I found out he’d had sex with another girl.

But how serious were we, truly? And how much could we really let our guards down when we both knew that, at the end of this summer, he’d get traded, and I had to go back to school in California?

In a twisted way—after getting closer to a bunch of coworkers my age, and hearing about their boy drama—my situation with Dakota might have been the thing that made me feel the most “normal.”

My coworker, Sienna, was the first to detect the change in me. She pestered and pried at me for days, trying to get the truth out of me, until at last I caved and told her I’d been seeing a guy.

“It’s Dakota, isn’t it?” she asked.

I swore her to secrecy and told her that it was. Sienna was thrilled—until she found out that I’d stayed at his house for fourteen straight nights.

“Are you nuts , O?” she asked, her eyes bulging. “He’s gonna get sick of you if you keep staying at his place! You have to give yourself some space to keep things fresh! Give the romance itself some air to breathe, too!”

I believed her. Why wouldn’t I? She had experience and I didn’t. But I didn’t need experience to know that, deep down, some part of me felt it “wrong” and “pathetic” for wanting to spend my time with someone I’d just met … even if all I wanted to do was be with him.

When I got home from work that day, I heeded Sienna’s advice and informed Dakota I would be staying at Leo’s condo that night instead.

My heart nervously raced as I told him. This felt like a small moment of truth.

I’d be crushed if Dakota gave a careless shrug and said something like, oh okay, whatever, have fun.

Instead, he acted all jealous and confused, maybe even a little hurt, when I broke the news. “What? You want to stay at Leo’s ? Why?”

I won’t lie, his reaction thrilled me, though I was careful not to let it show. I told Dakota it was healthy to spend time apart, and reminded him that I had my own bedroom at Leo’s place, that Leo liked men, and he had nothing to worry about.

“I’m not worried about that …” he said, though he couldn’t quite find the words for what he was feeling.

Still, I had something to prove—though whether I was trying to prove it to him or myself, I’m not sure—so I stuck with the plan and stayed the night at Leo’s instead.

The moment I left his condo, though, I felt like I’d made a horrible mistake. It felt like I’d left a piece of myself behind, leaving a void in my heart that yearned so badly to be back in Dakota’s presence.

Catching up with Leo took my mind off the emptiness for a few hours, at least. Leo eagerly soaked up all the juicy gossip about my forbidden tryst with the hockey player, and reveled in the steamy details of how I’d finally lost my V-card.

But at the end of the night, Leo left me with some cautionary words. “Just don’t fall for him too hard, Tavi. It’ll only hurt that much more when it’s time to end it.”

I fell silent as his warning settled upon me. I hated how conclusive and predetermined it sounded—as if Dakota and I had no chance, because things would end someday soon, because they had to. Most of all, I hated that he was right, and no amount of wishing otherwise would change my situation.

That night, I tossed and turned in bed for hours, unable to sleep.

In two short weeks, I’d come to expect to be lulled to sleep by Dakota’s strong arms wrapped around me, his comforting scent, his warm presence.

One night away from Dakota showed me how attached I already was.

I couldn’t believe how badly I missed him.

What’s more, I was angry at myself for trying to “get space” from him when our time was already so limited.

How foolish was I, wasting what little time we had together? !

I didn’t care if that meant Leo was right. I didn’t care if I had to suffer a heart-rending pain two months from now. All I wanted was to be with Dakota.

The first thing I did the next morning, as the soft light of a new day streamed through my bedroom window, was reach for my phone.

My heart skipped a beat when I discovered a sweet text from Dakota.

“I miss you. When are you coming home?” I must’ve read and re-read those words a hundred times—but especially the last one.

Home! That one word had rays of happiness bursting from my heart. It served as confirmation that he saw his home as my home, too.

“I missed you too! I’ll come home after my shift,” I replied.

He tapped the heart react, loving my message.

“Can’t wait.”

After I got off work that evening, Dakota greeted me at his door, his lips instantly claiming mine with a possessive kiss.

Our kisses burned hotter as we made our way to the bedroom, and our hands eagerly tore off each other’s clothes, leaving a trail of garments down the hallway.

But we needed each other so badly, we never even made it to the bedroom.

Dakota gently spun me around and pushed me up against the hallway wall, the hard surface cool against my pointed nipples.

He swiped at my thong, the item falling between my ankles with a swish, and took me from behind.

Afterward, we lay on the hallway floor. The cool hardwood floor on our backs grounded us in the present moment, our bodies still flushed and our chests rising and falling. With fingers intertwined, we held each other’s gaze. We didn’t need to speak; we simply basked in the bliss we’d created.

“Parker asked me what was wrong today,” he said once he’d caught his breath.

“He thought I’d been boozing last night.

He didn’t believe me when I told him he hadn’t.

” He let out a small chuckle. “I had to swear on the future of my NHL career to convince him otherwise. Even then, I’m not sure he believed me. ”

“Why’d he think you were drinking?”

“Because I was weak as hell today,” he said. “No power. No explosiveness. No stamina …”

“Oh no,” I said, running my nails along his muscular arms. He certainly didn’t look weak. “What happened? What was wrong?”

“I slept like shit last night.”

“Me too,” I whispered.

He blew out a breath. “It’s got me thinking, maybe Rust and all the older guys are right.”

I tilted my head. “Right about what?”

“Settling down. How it makes you a better player. Funny thing is, I never even thought I partied that much. But …” He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. “Hell, I can’t deny it. When I’m with you? All I want is to be my best. And it’s so easy, too—because you make me want to be the best.”

I touched my palm to his cheek. “Aw, Dakota. That’s so sweet.”

“I know you said it’s healthy to spend time apart, but …” He trailed off, a vulnerable tone in his voice. “I hated last night, Ottavia.”

“Why?” I asked. I had an idea, of course, but my heart badly needed to hear it come from him.

“Because.” He stared into my eyes, his knuckles gently grazing my cheek. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” I whispered.

He seemed surprised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! Why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno.” He paused. “I mean, I guess, because you wanted to leave in the first place?”

“Poor boy,” I said, frowning. “I only left because I was worried you might get sick of me.”

“Why?” He seemed surprised. “Did I do something to make you think that?”

“No. Not at all. But …”

I told him about my conversation with Sienna.

“So that’s why,” he said, bobbing his head.

“Are you mad?”

“Not at all. Hell, I’m relieved. I was worried you didn’t like me as much as I like you.”

Hearing him say that melted my heart.

“It’s not that at all, I promise,” I said. “I guess I was just worried because of what Sienna said.”

“I don’t care what other people think, Ottavia. All I know is, I want you with me. Always.” He took my hand into his, our fingers clasping. “As long as we have this time together, I want every second of it. Our time is too short to be playing games, you know?”

“Sorry … I swear I didn’t mean to play games.” I dropped my head guiltily. “This is still so new to me, Dakota.”

“No, no. It’s totally okay.” He lifted my chin. “Honestly, this is new to me, too.”

Huh? I didn’t understand. Women loved Dakota—I’d seen it firsthand over the past two weeks, and he was right. Every time we were out in public together, women were so brazen in their attempts to seduce him, it was as if I wasn’t even there. So how could this be new to him?

“New to you? What do you mean?” I asked.

“I’m talking about being in l—”

He swallowed the L word before it came out. But I’d heard it, as clear as day, and my swooning heart hammered in my chest.

Oh my God, I thought, he almost said he’s in love with me.

Dakota stammered and cleared his throat. “I’ve had a few relationships here and there. But they weren’t all that serious. And I never felt for them what I feel for you, Ottavia. Not even close.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he said. “So … we’re both kinda virgins when it comes to that.”

I giggled.

“All I ask is that you talk to me, Ottavia. Please—whatever is on your mind—I want you to tell me. Promise me, okay?”

“I promise.”

He climbed to his feet and offered me his hand. “Come.”

When I took his hand, he hoisted me off the floor and threw me over his shoulder in one fluid movement.

“Where are you taking me?” I shrieked with laughter as he carried me down the hall.

“The place we never made it to.” He growled and possessively spanked my ass. “The bedroom.”