Handsome Devil: A Hero Club Novel
Handsome Devil: Chapter 17

Tonight we will be in Vegas. Tonight I will have to look my best friend in the eye with all of my secrets hidden from her. I’ll stand there while she says her wedding vows, cheering her on for being adventurous and brave while I continue to be a coward.

What Henry and I had last night was amazing, but today was the lowest I’ve ever felt before. Lower than with what happened with Ben. I saw the look in his eye. He hasn’t changed. Nothing has changed. If he doesn’t believe that Kirsten could replace love in two months, then he certainly isn’t harboring any emotions for me after two days. What we did last night was just about sex, and I never should have risked so much to be with him.

At least I can move on knowing that I’m so much more bold in bed than I thought I could be. This was not all for nothing. Now, I just have to replace the courage to tell Kirsten exactly who I lost my virginity to and pray she doesn’t disown me.

Somewhere in Utah, we stop for lunch. On my walk to the bathroom in the restaurant, I feel the subtle soreness between my legs, and for the first time today, I bite back a smile. It feels good to feel so sexual out in broad daylight public like this. It almost actually makes me feel a little…horny. Not much I can do about that though. Even with our fight, every time I think about what we did I get a little warm shock to my core, and I want to do it again.

My brain immediately rejects the idea of being with any other guy. Will I ever replace anyone else as good? Or will I spend the rest of my life chasing this high?

We spot the bright lights of sin city around ten at night. I start to clam up immediately realizing that I’m only a few minutes away from facing Kirsten. Will she know right away? Will she notice the tension between us? Will she be able to tell I’m not a virgin anymore just by looking at me?

No, that’s ridiculous.

As I turn to him, ready to speak to him for the first time since I told him to fuck off, he cuts me off.

“Let’s just pretend there’s nothing to tell,” he says, looking as nervous as I feel. “At first, I mean. We can be honest with her…later.” He looks downright sick, like he’s some monster for what happened. He’s no more responsible than I am, but he’s still carrying all the guilt, which only makes me feel worse. I’m mad at him, but I don’t regret any of it. Not one bit. Too bad I can’t tell him that.

“Okay,” I reply, biting my lip. “Just know I’m still going to support her decision to do this.”

“I understand,” he replies. “Just know I’m still going to talk her out of it.”

I bite my lip so hard it hurts. I wish someone could explain why the more mad at him I get the hornier I feel.

By the time we reach the parking garage of the hotel, my hands are shaking. We finally made it. I honestly never thought we’d get here. Climbing the elevator to the lobby, the silence feels thicker than ever. I want to apologize to him for what I said about him as a father. It was wrong of me, but I was hurt.

He’s being more fidgety than normal now too. Maybe he wants to say something to me as well. But just as we glance at each other, the door chimes and opens to a busy casino floor. The bells and noises from the slot machines ring out, filling the giant space with nerve-wracking noise. I’ve never been to Las Vegas—hell, I’ve never been in a casino. But I replace the cacophony of it immediately annoying in my already anxiety-ridden mind.

Relief flows through me as my eyes fall upon Kirsten and Andy standing in the lobby waiting for us. Before I even know what’s happening, I’m in a dead sprint across the floor and jumping into her arms. She has a wide smile on her face and she squeals so loud it almost drowns out the clatter.

She can’t tell yet because we’re still in a tight embrace, but I’m not wearing a smile, and I’m fighting the urge to cry—no, sob. Everything feels so heavy in my heart. The fight with Henry, the sex, the whole week. I needed my best friend, and I had no idea how much until I had her in my arms.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here!”

“Me too,” I mumble. She tenses. In only two small words, she can tell right away that something’s not right. Squeezing her arms around me, it’s like a silent message of support. But I can’t think about that or the threat of tears becomes unbearable.

Letting go of me, we make eye contact for one moment before she turns toward Henry. “Dad!” she says as she closes in on him.

I’ve never seen Kirsten with her dad. It hits me hard. This is my best friend and the man I just lost my virginity to, and I’ve never seen them interact. It’s so strange to watch him hug her. His eyes close tight as he squeezes her close.

My cheeks ignite with heat. What have I done?

We both exchange greetings with Andy and catch up for a moment, talking about the drive and the delays, leaving out details like sleeping in his car and sharing a bed in the cabin in the mountains. I feel Kirsten’s eyes on me the whole time, dashing between me and Henry periodically, and I realize that I probably don’t have to tell her anything. She already knows.

“So, we already got your rooms,” Andy says during a lull in conversation.

“They’re right next to ours. Laila, I thought you and I could have a little hotel sleepover tonight before the big day tomorrow.”

I can’t help glancing sideways at Henry at her mention of her big day. He’s shuffling on his feet and avoiding eye contact. Her plan is perfect. I can’t let her anywhere near Henry alone before she walks down the aisle in case he really does try to talk her out of it.

Kirsten loops an arm through mine. “Honey, show my dad to his room. Laila and I are going to get drunk and catch up.” Then, she whisks me away, and we don’t even get to the elevator before she’s leaning in.

“Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I say quickly. A little too quickly.

“Uh huh.” She’s not buying it. “You two reeked of tension the second you walked out of that elevator.”

“We did not. Your dad is very…”

“Proper?” she says with a laugh. “Sensible and boring? Trust me, I know. You two couldn’t be more incompatible. I’m sorry you had to spend four days in a car with him.”

“It’s fine.” Keeping my eyes down, I pick mindlessly on my already chipped nail polish. I sort of hate the way she calls him sensible and boring, even though it was the exact same way I felt about him just a few days ago.

When we get to the room, Kirsten already has three bottles of wine waiting on the desk. As appealing as they look, I’m strangely not in the mood to get drunk. But it’s the night before my best friend’s wedding, and I have one job. Get her drunk. So that’s what I do.

I manage to keep the conversation focused on the wedding and her plan for tomorrow. About halfway through the first bottle, she turns the tables on me.

“So what’s really going on with you and my dad?” There’s a gentle slur to her voice. I know from experience that Kirsten is only good for one bottle of wine. She goes from tipsy to passed out in a very short period of time, so I pour a little slower, wanting to savor this time together. I’ve been in a car with a broody British man for four days. I need the company of a friend like Kirsten who I can be real with, but as soon as she starts drilling me about Henry, it doesn’t feel so relaxing.

“Nothing,” I reply which isn’t a lie considering that there is nothing currently going on with us.

“Bullshit, Laila! You two are totally vibing!”

“We don’t even like each other,” I argue back.

“Then why was he staring at you so much in the lobby?”

Was he? No, I don’t care. I’m not going back down that road.

“You’d tell me if something happened between you two, wouldn’t you?” My skin burns hot. I cannot lie to my best friend. I’ve never lied to her before and it feels so wrong to even think about lying to her now, but I can’t drop this on her tonight, even if she is fishing for it. What if she doesn’t take it as well as she’s letting me believe she will? What if it ruins everything? Her wedding is tomorrow, and that feels like too much of a risk to take.

“Enough about me. What are you wearing tomorrow?”

She glares at me skeptically before finally jumping up to show me the long white sundress hanging in the bathroom. It’s casual, probably something she bought from an outlet, but it suits her with her artificial blue locks and bright blue eyes.

After she opens the second bottle, the two of us cuddle up on the bed to watch a rom-com. Kirsten doesn’t make it very far into the movie before she’s snoring on my shoulder.

I’m just about to drift off when I hear a knock at the door. Assuming it’s Andy, I wiggle away from Kirsten, putting her head on the pillow before I cross the room to open the door.

But I’m speechless when I see Henry standing there, freshly showered in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.

“I need to talk to Kirsten.”

My mouth closes as I shut the door enough that he can’t see her. I refuse to let him and wake her up to drop this on her. She doesn’t need to know her dad drove four thousand miles to ruin her big day.

“She’s sleeping.”

His mouth flattens into a thin line as he stares down at me. If he thinks he’s getting past me without a fight, he’s crazy. I’ve had two glasses of wine so I’m working with more liquid courage than him.

I step out into the hallway, feeling the door rest on the latch without closing since I don’t have a key. “Just go to bed, Henry. It’s after midnight.”

“I can’t sleep until I say what I need to say to my daughter.”

“Why are you so desperate to tell her now? You’re just afraid you’ve changed your mind,” I reply in a loud whisper.

“I haven’t changed my mind, Laila. I’m stopping this wedding.” He doesn’t bother with discretion and speaks loud enough for everyone to hear, so I jump forward, clamping my hand against his mouth. It puts me directly against his body, and the next thing I know I’m shoved against the wall with a thud.

We glare at each other for a moment, my fingers still pressed to his face and his hands on my hips. All of the anger from the day, the cocky attitude of his lighting a fire of hatred in my gut has warmth pooling where the anger should be. Next thing I know, I feel his hips press me against the wall, and my eyes widen at the unmistakable hardness in his pants. Working on their own, my hips press back.

Then he tears my hand away from his mouth and attacks me with a harsh kiss. I don’t bother keeping up the charade of hating Henry, and I kiss him back. I kiss him like it’s air and I’m suffocating. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I welcome the familiarity of his taste on my tongue, the comfort of his cologne and the subtle vibration of his deep hum as he groans me into a warm puddle on the hallway floor.

I want to tell him I hate him. Fuck, do I want to hate him. Five days ago I did. But now I’m wrapping my legs around him in the middle of this hotel knowing full well that anyone could walk out at any moment and see us. I don’t care about that. All I care about is getting him naked and feeling the fullness I felt last night.

He thrusts his hips, pinning my body to the wall and creating that friction I crave. I gasp against his lips just as his warm hand dives beneath my shirt and cups my bare breast. The bra came off hours ago.

“I’m going to take you into my hotel room now,” he says, and I don’t know if it’s a question or a statement, but I nod eagerly in response. Then, he’s carrying me, my legs still wrapped around him until we’re in his room, the door clicking behind us.

We are caught in a fury of mouths, lips, and hands devouring each other. After only a few days of Henry, his nearness and his touch feels like home, more familiar than anyone else’s has ever been, like he’s rewriting the code to my body, undoing anything that existed there before.

He drops my feet to the floor and quickly spins me around. I’m facing the mirror, my fingers on the counter in his hotel room. His body is like a mountain behind me, hard and overbearing as he peels off my clothes, kissing his way down my spine. When he tears down my pants, I let out a cry, expecting him to stop but he doesn’t, and I swallow a scream as he jerks my hips back, spreading my legs and licking his warm wet tongue across my sex.

“Henry!” I choke out in a strangled scream, but he doesn’t stop. I want to be self-conscious—he’s eating me out…from behind. His face is buried between my legs, and I guess it’s a good thing I showered when I got to my room, but my brain isn’t processing these thoughts. It’s stopped working entirely because what he’s doing feels so fucking good. He’s ravenous, the soft friction of his tongue against my most sensitive spots making my knees week.

“Henry,” I whimper because I want this to go on forever, but I also need him. I think if he wasn’t so worked up, he would keep it up but he’s feeling the same urgency I do. A moment later, he’s standing, leaving me wet and waiting until a moment later when I feel his head of his cock at my entrance.

I happen to look up into the mirror, and our eyes meet just as he plunges in. We groan in unison. With his hands firm on my hips, he doesn’t take it as easy and slowly as he did last night. By the look in his eyes, his clenched jaw and stern brow, I know he’s about to give it rough, and I welcome it.

He slams into me again and again. A warm tingle builds in the bottom of my spine, and as he picks up speed, it threatens to spill over. It’s the image of him behind me that finally sends me flying. Just as my orgasm peaks, he pulls out in a rush, and I feel the sudden splashes of warmth against my back.

His face is contorted in pleasure as he stares down my back and the mess he’s left on me. It makes me feel so dirty to have him cover me in cum like some girl in a porn, but I love that feeling.

Then, as he grabs a tissue out of the little tissue slot in the side of the counter, I get a sudden pang of cold realization as I remember that I’m nothing more than a dirty hookup for Henry.

It’s tense and quiet as we put ourselves back together and come down from that sudden burst of frantic sexual madness.

Without looking at me, he mumbles. ‘I should have used protection. I’m sorry. I’m clean, I promise. I was recently tested.’

Well, that’s not a sexy conversation to have after a whirlwind quickie, but I guess it’s responsible. These are the conversations I get to have now. I should be more excited about it, but I’m not.

‘I’m not worried. I’m on the pill too…for what it’s worth.’

It’s quiet again, and I should really get back to my room and get some sleep. What if Kirsten woke up and realized I was gone? Would she figure out where I am?

‘I should go,’ I mumble as I move toward the door.

‘Laila, I’m—’

I hold up a hand to stop him. ‘You don’t have to apologize. It’s fun. I like being with you. I just wish things were different. That…I don’t know…’

I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. I wish we could fuck more often without feelings getting involved? I wish sex was easier and no one would risk being hurt because of the stuff we like to do together. I wish a lot of things, but it’s pointless to wish for something I’ll never have.

Without another word, I leave the room and head out into the hallway. Being away from him suddenly feels like I’m a hundred miles away from the one person I want to be with.

Then, I take one look at the hotel door where I left it resting on the lock. It’s still resting there, just like I left it. I don’t have a key. If it were to close, I would be stuck and I’d have to sleep somewhere else if I didn’t want to wake up Kirsten, which I don’t.

I know I should be a good friend and go inside. But every great moment that brought Henry and I together this week has been some force that kept us together, great things coming from every one of those moments.

Without another thought I pull the hotel door closed, sealing my fate and taking matters into my own hands. Then I turn back to Henry’s door and quietly knock, knowing he’ll hear it. A second later, the door opens, and I don’t miss the hopeful look on his face.

‘The door must have closed while we were in here. I’m locked out now.’

His eyes dart over to the door and back to me, a slow smirk curling on his lips. ‘Is that so?’

‘Can I sleep in here so I don’t have to wake Kirsten?’ I bite my lip and pray that I’m reading this situation correctly.

I must be because a moment later, his hands are around my waist and I’m being hauled into his room and tossed on the bed.