Page 75 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“You do now.” Tempest patted his shoulder. “It's Vegas, baby. Different rules.”
The three of us were in the backseat, but about three minutes into the drive, Tempest suddenly remembered she had a deadline. “I'm just gonna pop the third row seat, put my noise-canceling headphones on, and see if I can finish these edits before we get to Vegas. That way I can have fun tonight and not worry about how my football player and his lady love have to stay at the inn with only one bed.”
Did she just wink at me?
That left Gryff and me alone in the back, the middle seat between us feeling both too small and too large at the same time.
“I spy with my little eye,” Jules started, “two people in love with each other.”
“Jules,” Gryff and I said in unison.
“What? I spy is a classic road trip game.”
“That's not how you play,” I protested.
“It is now.”
We stopped at a truck stop halfway through the drive, everyone piling out to stretch legs and stock up on road trip essentials. Gryff disappeared while I was browsing the chip aisle, then reappeared with his arms full of my favorites, strawberry Twizzlers, the cheesy poofs we're both obsessed with, and an enormous neon red slushie.
“How did you know I wanted a slushie?”
“You always want a slushie on road trips,” he said, like this was common knowledge despite us never having been on a road trip.
“We've never been on a road trip together before.”
“No, but you told me about how your mom would only stop at 'approved' rest stops and how you'd always beg for a slushie but she'd say they were just sugar and food coloring.”
He remembered that? I'd mentioned it maybe once, years ago, like in high school.
“So I figured you should have one now,” he continued, handing it to me. “Vegas rules, right?”
“Right,” I said, taking a sip and immediately getting brain freeze. “Vegas rules.”
The rest of the drive was a blur of Jules forcing us all to sing along to everything from Taylor Swift and Kelsey Best to Hamilton. Gryff's thigh pressed against mine in a way that should not have been as distracting as it was.
“You've really never been to Vegas?” Gryff asked quietly while the others were debating the best Elvis song for a theoretical wedding.
“Never. Mom thought it was irresponsible. Too much risk, too much temptation, too much... everything.”
“And what do you think?”
I looked out the window at the desert flying by, the sun starting to set and painting everything gold. “I think maybe a little too much everything is exactly what I need.”
His hand was resting on the middle seat, and without thinking, I let my pinky finger brush against his. He didn't move away.
“Then we'll make sure you get the full Vegas experience,” he said softly.
“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?” I tried to make it sound like a joke.
“Something like that.”
We arrived at the stadium just as the sun was setting, the lights of Vegas starting to twinkle to life in the distance. TheKingman suite was already packed with family. Mr. Kingman was there with Isak, along with Trixie, Kelsey, Penelope, and Willa. Even the aunts and grandparents had made the trip, and I was excited to see Coach and Nana again so soon. The house seemed empty without them.
“Artemis.” Trixie pulled me into a hug immediately. “I'm so glad you came. The boys are going to be so excited you're all here.”
The first half of the game was intense, with the Mustangs up by just three points. During halftime, the guys went to get more food, and I suddenly found myself surrounded by Kingman women.
“So,” Kelsey said without preamble, “what's happening with you and Gryff?”
