On the Way to You Read online

  And I had a ketchup stain on my shirt.

  “You wanna come?”

  The way he asked, I wasn’t sure if he actually wanted me to join him or not, but the thought of spending the night alone in Vegas was enough to make my stomach do a somersault.

  “I do, but…” I pulled at my clothes, eyes on the stretched-out fabric. “I don’t have anything… like… that,” I said, gesturing to him.

  Emery watched me, waiting, and I stared at him, waiting, too.

  But no answer came from his lips, and no reassurance, either. He didn’t have to say anything for me to realize that it was my problem, not his.

  “I’ll check out some of the shops downstairs and I can just text you when I’m ready, and meet up with you then?”

  He nodded, and the words had barely even left my lips before he turned and jetted out the door.

  Kalo tilted her head at me, as if to ask me what the hell I was going to wear to go out on the town in Las Vegas. Her ears flopped over, tongue following suit, the wind blowing at the shaggy strands of her fur.

  “I don’t know, Kalo pup,” I said, bending to press my forehead to hers. With a sigh, I ruffled her fur and stood again, eyes on the fountain springing to life below. “It might be time to dip into the savings.”

  After perusing the elegant shops in the Cosmopolitan and finding out very quickly that they were entirely out of my price range, I was ready to give up and stay in my pajamas for the night. I figured renting a few movies and cuddling with Kalo wouldn’t be so bad.

  But then I remembered I was in Vegas, and I mentally slapped myself.

  Thankfully, a sweet middle-aged woman heard me asking the cashier at one of the boutiques if there were any other shops nearby, and she pointed me across the strip to the Miracle Mile Shops.

  It was a different kind of wonder, being on the Las Vegas strip. It wasn’t the Rocky Mountains or the Grand Canyon, a natural, earthy beauty that stole my breath away. The lights were the stars here, the hotels were the mountains, the sidewalks the valleys, and the people who flowed through them were the wildlife. Sin City seemed to whisper to me as the wind swept my hair back and I watched those who passed me, their eyes set on winning money or dancing the night away. Their electricity buzzed through me, and I bounced a little as I walked through the doors to the Planet Hollywood entrance to the mall.

  Las Vegas was welcoming — warm and bright and loud — and I had my heart set on making just as many memories on the strip as I did hiking Seven Falls.

  I scanned a few of the stores before finally seeing one that seemed a little my style, and as soon as I pulled one long dress off the rack, a charming, impeccably dressed man rushed to my side.

  “Can I start you a fitting room?” He was all smiles, his voice light and airy, dark hair styled to perfection.

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, handing him the one long dress I’d found. The other ones I’d spotted were all short, so I followed him back, but he paused.

  “You’re not done shopping, are you?”

  I shrugged. “I was looking for a long dress, and this seems to be the only one you have.”

  The man waved a hand at me, and I caught the name on the tag fastened to the front of his vest. Antonio.

  “With your figure? Short is the way to go. Or a tight pair of jeans to show off that tiny frame. Here, why don’t you try this on and I’ll grab you a few other options. Is it to go out, for dinner, casual?”

  I shifted, realizing I hadn’t even asked Emery where he was going. “Um… I’m not sure. I’m meeting a friend out tonight, but he didn’t tell me where. I think it’ll probably be a bar of some sort.”

  “Oh, honey,” he said on a laugh. “There are very few bars on the strip. It’s all clubs, and that means we need to get you all glammed up.” He hung my dress on a hook in the back dressing room, holding back the fabric curtain for me to step inside. “I’ll be right back. Trust me, you won’t leave here until you’re looking fabulous, doll.”

  He clapped his hands together with an excited giggle before leaving me alone in the room, and I just chuckled, tucking the curtain closed.

  It turned out Antonio was my lucky penny, because the only dress I’d managed to pick out myself swallowed me like a burlap sack. But he had plenty of outfit choices for me to try on, and a few of the other female associates joined in, bringing me shoes and accessories, all of them joining in a mixture of oooh’s and aaah’s every time I emerged in something new.

  Still, nothing seemed to be sticking. Not until I pulled on a short, black dress, one I’d been saving until last. I’d tried on the jeans, and the pant suits, and even the leather leggings — but wearing this meant one thing I wasn’t sure I could handle.

  My prosthetic leg would be visible.

  The dress was long sleeved, with a draping neckline that accentuated what barely there breasts I had before tapering at my waist. There were swirl-patterned strips of fabric missing on the side and at the bottom, each of them covered in a mesh lace, and the hem cut off halfway down my thighs, leaving me way more exposed than I was used to.

  Every part of me that I saw as a flaw was on full display — my nude socket, the silver pylon leg, the foot that matched my skin tone as much as it possibly could. It was all I could see as I pulled back the curtain with a shaky breath, ready for the stares, for the questions, for the looks of pity. But when I stepped in front of Antonio and the two other associates, they stared alright — but not at my leg.

  At me.

  “Oh. My. God,” Antonio said, punctuating each word as one hand covered his mouth.

  “That’s the one,” the girl to his left said, shaking her head like she was in disbelief. “Wow. You look killer.” She snapped her fingers together. “I have just the shoes.”

  She disappeared before I could tell her I wouldn’t be able to wear heels, but it didn’t matter, because I turned to face the three angled mirrors, and when I stopped looking at my leg, I saw what they saw, too.

  It was like the dress was made for me.

  “Antonio, I can’t wear this,” I whispered, though my fingers ran over the smooth fabric with longing, brushing the mesh lace along the edges.

  “The hell you can’t,” he said, stepping up beside me. He lifted his arms over my head, dropping them down to lay a gold necklace over my collarbone. It was a layered choker, several thin chains making an elaborate design that seemed to accent the dress perfectly.

  “But…” I looked down, wiggling my leg.

  “But nothing. What, you’re worried about that?” he asked, nodding to my leg in the mirror as his female counterpart handed him a pair of bedazzled ballet flats over his shoulder. “Honey, no one is going to be able to focus on that with your tits pushed up to the heavens and your thighs singing hallelujah like that. Here, just try these.”

  I sat on the small cushioned bench and pulled the flats on, cringing a little at the way I had to stretch the delicate fabric over my prosthetic foot. But both shoes fit, and when I stood again, wiggling my toes and admiring the unique way the flats strapped over my arches, they all gasped.

  When I turned back to the mirrors, all I could do was shake my head. “This is crazy.”

  “It’s perfect,” Antonio corrected. “Do you have contacts?”

  I cringed, but nodded. “I do. I packed a pair in my purse just in case. You think I should wear them?”

  “Definitely. And, what are you going to do about that hair? There’s a blow-out place a few stores down. You should see if they can get you in. And stop by Mac for makeup.”

  I pressed my hands flat to my stomach, feeling a little overwhelmed. “How much is this going to cost me?”

  Antonio added up the shoes, necklace, and dress, and when he told me the total, I nearly passed out. It was more than I made in three shifts at the diner. I sighed, bending to remove the flats, Antonio and everyone else protesting the entire time.

  “I can’t, guys. It’s too much.” I sighed again. “It’s all too
much.” Suddenly, I felt defeated, and I had no idea why. “I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

  Maybe it was battling with Emery for three bad days in a row, three days of him not talking to me, not acknowledging what had happened between us. Maybe it was that I was miles away from the place I’d called home my entire life, and I’d lost who I was, yet hadn’t quite found the new person I’d become. I was in a strange purgatory, stuck between the before and after, unsure of every move I made.

  Antonio exchanged a look with the two girls beside him, then he smiled down at me. “Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe you work at our sister boutique in LA!”

  I cocked a brow, eyeing him as he shared knowing looks with the other two.

  “Of course we’ll give you the employee discount. That brings your total down forty percent. Oh, and, what do you know — that dress just happens to be off our clearance rack!”

  They all just watched me, their flawless smiles surrounding me in the dressing room, and it was all I could do not to fall apart. I didn’t know whether to cry or hug them all, but I settled for the latter, whispering a thank you in Antonio’s ear.

  “My pleasure. Now, go fix that hair and get your face done, and show that friend of yours what you’re working with.”

  It was late by the time I got my hair and makeup done and changed into my new clothes. My palms were sweaty as I texted Emery, asking him where he was, and when it took him almost twenty minutes to answer, I started to panic at the thought of going all out only to end up partying by myself.

  But my phone eventually lit up with his name. He’d gone down the strip, but was on his way back to the club inside our hotel. Marquee.

  I sighed a breath of relief that I wouldn’t have to find a cab — or worse, walk down the strip. I’d already walked Kalo when I got back from the mall, but I wanted to wait a while before making my way down. No way was I showing up before him. So, I sat on the edge of the bed, completely dressed and ready, petting my dog.

  So cool.

  When I’d managed to burn another twenty minutes, I checked my reflection one more time in the mirror.

  The dress fit like a glove, just like it had in the store, and my fingers played with the gold chains of the choker as I took in the whole ensemble. I’d picked up a black clutch to match at the last second, and I held it in the hand not touching the chains. My hair was curled in soft waves that fell down my back and over my shoulders, and my glasses were tucked in my toiletry bag, leaving my eyes bare for the first time in years. I had fake lashes and more makeup than I even knew existed on my face, courtesy of Mac, and even though I looked completely different, I didn’t feel weird.

  I felt beautiful.

  I wondered how many girls experienced this every day when they looked in the mirror as I slipped the hotel key into my clutch, letting the door click softly shut behind me. My eyes studied the rhinestones on my flats as they carried me to the elevator, my hands fiddling with my curls. I was anxious to see Emery, to see his reaction to me. Maybe he wouldn’t care — after all, he’d been attracting drop-dead gorgeous women his entire life. But maybe he’d see what I did. Maybe he’d see the girl he kissed under the stars in Colorado, the girl waiting for him to tell her what the hell was going on in his head.

  It was like playing a game of chess where none of the rules I’d learned applied anymore. There were new pieces, new movements, new strategies — and I had no idea how to play. All I could do was watch and learn from my opponent, which put me at a steep disadvantage.

  The club was inside the hotel, the entrance located on the second floor, and the line was wrapped around the thumping dome that surrounded it as I rounded the hallway that housed the elevators. I stepped up to the back of the crowd, forcing a shaky breath and holding my clutch in both hands as I waited.

  A group of girls in front of me was laughing when I approached, all of them visibly drunk, but after a moment, I noticed them whispering to each other, their eyes flicking to me every now and then.

  More specifically, to my leg.

  I stood as tall as I could, trying to ignore them and keep my eyes trained on the bouncers checking IDs at the front. It was working until one of them turned to me, blinding me with a smile so bright against her bronze skin I almost squinted.

  “Sorry for staring,” she said, a thick Spanish accent curling the words, and I was surprised by the sweet tone of her voice. She was still giggling with her friends, but still, I waited for the insult, for the bless your heart kind of comment that would come next. She only shook her head with awe in her eyes as she gave me another once over. “We just can’t stop talking about how amazing you look.”

  “Me?” I nearly choked.

  She laughed, the other girls succumbing to another fit of giggles. “Yes, you. That dress is stunning, and your hair… I wish I could get mine to look like that.”

  “Seriously,” one of her friends added. “It’s so shiny. Like a shampoo commercial.”

  More giggles.

  I blushed. “Thank you, but all credit goes to the hair place across the strip. This mess is usually in a braid,” I said, running a few fingers through my curls.

  “Mine is usually in a messy bun, so I get it,” the first girl said. “Well, anyway, you look awesome. See you inside?”

  “Sure,” I said, and I couldn’t fight the smile creeping its way onto my face once she turned around again.

  Lily once told me there’s nothing more genuine than a compliment from a drunk girl, and I held onto that as the line moved forward. My confidence was still roughly the size of a pea, but they’d made me feel as good as when I’d looked in the mirror upstairs. Maybe my leg wasn’t the only thing people saw, after all.

  The line moved quickly, and before I knew it, I’d had my ID checked and I was ushered inside. My nerves were on high alert when I handed the bouncer my fake, but he barely glanced at it, seeming much more interested in my attire than my age. I was inside before I could put my ID away again, but it wasn’t a club I found on the other end of the door.

  It was a concert.

  Bright neon lights flashed, rays of green and purple stretching across the crowd on the dance floor and bouncing off the walls in the back. Dancers lined the railings on the left and right of the dance floor, each of them wearing platinum wigs and glowing makeup, dressed in nothing but what appeared to be black underwear and bras as they danced in time with the beat of the electronic music.

  The bass thumped through me and my heart rate accelerated with it.

  How the hell am I going to find Emery in here?

  I hooked my fingers over the leather of my clutch, holding it in front of me as I slowly moved through the crowd, eyes on the bar. The music was so loud I couldn’t think, couldn’t process, the lights flashing bright over the sea of faces before they disappeared again. When I found a small clearing, I stood still, gathering my bearings.

  And then I saw him.

  Emery was at the bar, just like I’d suspected, seated at the far end of it on a barstool with people crowding on either side of him trying to get the bartenders’ attention. His hand rested on the lower back of some platinum blonde girl, and that was all I could see of her from the back — that and her sky high, red-bottomed heels that matched the crimson sequin detailing on her dress.

  His hands were on her.

  But his eyes were on me.

  The blonde leaned in to talk in his ear over the music as his gaze fell from my eyes down over my chest, my ribs, my legs. I thought I saw him swallow, though I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was he was scowling, and when he met my gaze again, he didn’t move. He didn’t get up and come to me or call me over. His eyes didn’t widen at my dress. His jaw didn’t drop.

  He just stared.

  And my heart sank all the way down to the dance floor.

  I thought he was coming back to me, I thought the bad day was over, but he was looking at me like he didn’t want me there, like he was annoyed I showed up at all. It was clear to me
in that moment that our kiss meant absolutely nothing to him, and that likely, I didn’t either.

  Stupid girl.

  I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream and throw a fit and pack my bags and catch the next flight out of town. I didn’t even know where I would go — back to Mobile? On to Seattle? To wherever the first flight would take me? It didn’t matter, but I couldn’t stay in that club another minute letting him make me feel like I didn’t belong.

  My bottom lip quivered as I ripped my gaze from his, but I held my chin high, biting back any emotion as I started making my way through the crowd again. He didn’t deserve my tears, especially since he clearly wouldn’t care if they fell.

  I was nearly to the door when a hand wrapped around my wrist, gentle yet firm as it pulled me to a halt.

  I turned, my eyesight blocked immediately by a wide chest, and when I craned my neck up to get a good look at the man hooked to the hand still holding me in place, my pulse ticked back to life.

  He was ridiculously tall, especially next to me, with midnight skin and jet-black eyes. Those eyes were drinking me in, his full lips settling into a smirk as he pulled me just a little closer to him.

  “I’m sorry, but there’s just no way.”

  I stared at him, confused, my head tilting a little as I leaned in so I could hear him better. “I’m sorry?”

  “There’s no way,” he repeated, taking my cue and stepping closer.

  My eyes jetted to the left, then to the right, before finally finding his again. “I… I don’t understand.”

  “It’s just, I saw you from where I was sitting at the bar, just standing out there on that dance floor. You walked in, stood there, looked like someone broke your damn heart, and then you turned to leave. I almost thought I imagined you, because there’s no way you got all dressed up, that you walked out of your hotel tonight looking like this,” he said, eyes trailing my body slowly again. “Just to leave the club before midnight.”