Before I even opened my eyes, the events of the last night hit me. Ryder and me, drinking on the Strip. Steamy kisses on a Parisian patio. Ryder’s tongue between my legs. Ryder stopping cold turkey even though he obviously wanted me as badly as I wanted him. Apparently, not a single goddamn thing in my life was going to be normal. I sighed and stepped into the shower. The water coursing over my boobs and between my thighs sent flashback after flashback of last night. He’d looked at my naked body like he’d wanted to worship me and gone down on me with exactly the same sentiment. So why did he blueball himself and kick me out immediately after? I glared at the moldy caulking in the corner of the tiny stand-up shower. I had to remember why I was here in Las Vegas. I had to focus. I was only upset because I was fucking around like a stupid tourist girl on the Strip and not concentrating on how I could best help Mom.
