Page 55 of Fire Me Up
“You’re really focused on that phone. You’re not adopting another cat, are you?” I asked.
“What? No!” He frowned. “Wait, would the landlord let us have two cats? I wonder how Bacon would adjust.”
Eight weeks into officially being boyfriends, and he still found ways to make my stomach flip with anticipation and just a touch of dread. This trip to Las Vegas was Silas’s idea — a retreat for the whole FRMC crew on the five-year anniversary of the founding of the collective.
And to my surprise, a few random friends had been invited to join us, too, including my younger brother, who was now a regular, even though he still had never ridden a bike. Gael’s sisters had come too; Liv because she was part of the FRMC, and Marisol, because she couldn’t resist a free hotel stay.
And even Gael had been persuaded to take a few days off. He was slowly getting better about work-life balance. And, of course, he’d brought Bacon along.
Part of me worried he was about to wake up and realize I wasn’t worth the trouble.
“So, Vegas. Should we go see a show? Hit the casinos?”
“Uh huh,” Gael said absently.
“What are you doing over there?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously as he grinned at his phone.
Gael looked up, his smile wickedly playful. “Nothing important.”
“Bullshit.” I propped myself up on my elbows. “You’ve been glued to that thing since we got back from dinner.”
He locked his screen and tossed the phone onto the bedside table, face down, with exaggerated innocence. “Just making plans.”
“What kind of plans?” The question came out sharper than I intended, that old fear creeping in—the one that whispered paranoid thoughts in my head.
“The good kind.” Gael crossed to the bed and planted a kiss on my forehead that somehow managed to be both reassuring and frustratingly vague. I reminded myself of how wholesome Gael was, of how easygoing he was.
Of how much he loved me.
Bacon chose that moment to leap onto the bed, his chunky orange body landing with a soft thud before he stretched out across the pristine white duvet like he owned the place. He’d adjusted to hotel life with impressive ease, treating every new room like his personal kingdom.
“He’s made himself right at home,” I said, scratching behind Bacon’s ears. The cat purred loudly, leaning into my touch with shameless enjoyment.
Gael grinned. “Helps that you bought him a cat tower. For the hotel room.”
Iblushed, glancing over at the cat tower in the corner. “It’s only practical.”
“Yes, a seven-foot cat tower is super practical. Especially when we arrived on motorcycles.”
“If he likes it, we’ll figure out how to get it back home. If he doesn’t, we’ll donate it to a local shelter. Either way, he doesn’t scratch up the furniture. Saves money on damage deposits.”
“Right,” Gael said, eyes sparkling. “Damage deposits. You’re not at all worried about Bacon being happy?”
“He’s a cat, Gael. Why would I worry about him being happy?”
“So… you’re petting him because…”
Ilooked down at my hand, which had somehow unconsciously made my way to Bacon’s special spot on the side of his neck.
“Fine. I kind of like Bacon. Happy?”
Gael beamed. “You love him. Like you love me!” He leaned down and kissed me fiercely.
Iswallowed hard. Eight weeks of being officially together, of waking up tangled in each other, of planning our future in Denver, and part of me still couldn’t believe it was real.
“We should probably start getting ready,” I said, changing the subject before my emotions got the better of me. “Aiden’s already texted twice asking where we are.”
“In a minute.” Gael moved to the closet, pulling out two pairs of shorts. “Which ones should I wear tonight?”
