"Here's your shots. Bottoms up." Kat handed me two shots, picked up one of hers, squeezed the bottom and sucked hard to get the gelatinous formation to release from the cup.

"Thanks, hun. I can see you know how to suck them down." I laughed.

Everyone had their own technique for removing the wiggly concoction out of the tiny container. The only sure way I knew about, was to run my finger around the edge first to loosen it before sucking.

Kat downed her shots while standing, too flighty to sit in a place like this. She was stoked from the concert and ready to dance.

"I'm gonna shake some ass and go dance," she yelled back laughing, as a sharply dressed young guy wearing a black fedora towed her by her wrist to the dance floor. I waved her away.

"No problem. Knock yourself out, girl."

As I was licking the sticky off of my index finger, I became aware of someone's eyes watching me. I took my finger out of my mouth and looked up. Oh shit. I dropped my eyes to my lap, feeling self-conscious. I pursed my lips and tried to act casual while I wiped the moisture from my finger on the corner of the white cocktail napkin under my drink. It's was clear why they gave these Jello shots away for free. Guys enjoyed watching all the sucking and licking action.

"You do that very well," A smooth deep voice drew my attention to those watchful eyes. It was him. Holy shit, it was the guy from the concert. I didn't know how to answer that. Was he talking about my finger in my mouth or the way I took the shot? Either way, I was blushing.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" He stood with one hand in his pocket of his dark dress pants, holding a drink glass in the other, as he tilted his head with the question he had asked. He had on a black dress shirt, tie and a vest. And he wore it very well.

"Sure, have a seat." I pressed my knees together and moved over to give him room. As he sat down next to me, I became acutely aware of the close proximity of our bodies. The heat from his body mixed with the musk of his cologne and wafted in my direction every time a person brushed through the crowd. His scent acted like a secret pass code on my hormones and I rotated my upper torso towards him in an open stance. Damn, what was my body doing? If body language could talk, I guess mine was screaming. I needed water. Why was it so hot in here?

"I think I saw you at the Lenny Kravitz concert earlier. Did you enjoy it?" He looked out of place on the edge of this small velvet bench seat. He was tall, at least six feet had dark black hair, cut short on the sides and held in place on top with a little gel, a very professional business look but with a younger style.

"Yes, I loved it," I said nodding my head. "It was such a blast. Lenny really knows how to rock the crowd."

"My name is Trevor, by the way." He smiled and my heart skipped a beat. My restless soul was rearing its head again. What's wrong with me?

"Niki," I returned. "Did you come to Vegas just for the concert?"

"No, actually my buddies and I are here for a conference, insurance conference, but we knew about it way in advance and checked out the concerts When I saw the date for Lenny Kravitz...I had to book it."

"Cool. I'm here on spring break." I bobbed my head up and down. I wondered if he knew that we had pictures of him on Kat's phone. Shit, we're such stalkers.

"You should join us at our table. My friends and I have a reserved bottle service table by the dance floor. Your friend can come too."

I scanned all the girls sitting down the length of the bench and realized this area was filled with single girls. The single guys were standing near the bar and the perimeter of the dance floor, while the few nice tables had couples.

"Sure, why not."

I peered around the mash of bodies on the edge of the dance floor looking for Kat to signal her to the table. The club wasn't very big so it was easy to find her. I gestured with my hand that I would be sitting at the table nearest to the DJ booth, with a wave for her to come join us.

When I approached their table, Trevor and his friends gallantly made room for me to have a seat in the booth and then he slid in next to me.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"San Francisco is where my casa's at," he said sipping his Gin and Tonic, "but I am almost never there. My job seems to constantly take me on the road these days. Haven't been home for the last three weeks. How about you?"

"Los Angeles. Finishing up my last year of college. So you are in insurance?"

"Yep. My grandpa was in insurance, my dad and several of my cousins are in insurance, so it was kind of in my cards for me to do the same."

"That's really nice. My dad is a lawyer and everyday he talks about is how he wants me to go to law school and eventually work at his company. Honestly, I loathe the thought of working for my dad. Besides, I'm more of the creative type, you know?"

"Sure, but being a lawyer is not the worst-"

"Hey, who is going to buy a thirsty girl a drink?" It was Kat with the perfect interruption. The conversation was getting a little too serious for a night in Vegas.

"There you are. Come sit next to me," I called out. Kat fell into the circular booth, breathless from dancing as I introduced her to Trevor and his friends.

We all scooted in to fit and Kat elbowed me under the table. Dipping her head towards mine, she whispered into my ear, "Remember, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

"Right," I thought to myself, glancing in Trevor's direction, but I had no intention of doing anything crazy and wild tonight. As exciting a Vegas night in bed with Trevor sounded, I was not that kind of girl. Besides, I was sort of spoken for already. It was a little complicated. Jason was his name, an intern in my dad's law firm. It had been my dad's suggestion.

"I have found the perfect guy for you." An announcement my dad had surprised me with a couple of months ago over breakfast. "Just let him take you out on one date. I know you will like him. He is a very nice guy."

My dad was right. Jason was nice enough, but that was also the problem. He was nice...well, nice and boring. I knew most girls would have considered themself lucky to date a guy like him. He was good looking, smart, educated with a great job and a bright future but...to me, that was just about as exciting as doing the laundry. I wanted more out of life than just being a lawyer's wife. I had big dreams and hopes for my future and sadly for Jason...and my dad, neither of them were included. I just had to somehow find a way to tell them both, which was not an easy task. Lawyers had a desire to always get their way. But moving out of my father's house and getting a place with my best friend, would be the first step in the right direction.

I glanced over at Kat sitting on a guy's lap doing tequila shots with her hands behind her back. I shook my head and smiled at her. She caught my gaze, smiled back, winking at me. I knew this was going to be one hell of a summer.

Chapter Five.

Jesse "Hey, man. We need to talk." Jimmy handed me a Coors Light. I was watching a motocross race on ESPN on his flat screen. Shit. The tone of his voice didn't sound good. I knew I had fucked up but come on, give me a break.

"Yup. Whassup?" I stared straight ahead at the TV.

I glanced over as Jimmy sat on the edge of the chair next to the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. He seemed pissed that I wasn't paying attention to him.

"Shut that fucking thing off. Listen to me, man." The timber in his voice rose up a level. I shot the remote at the TV and the screen went black. I tossed it aside and flung my head back against the couch.

"So..."

"You fucked up again the other night with that chick outside the bar and all...look, I was thinking. Since you're not going back to racing any time soon, I was sort of discussing with Sarah that maybe you would be good with a change of scenery."

I stared at the ceiling, searching for something to say. I was dead inside. My life was tearing apart all around me. I didn't have anything to say. I knew he was right, but I just didn't want to deal with this shit right now.

"I think you should go away for a few months. Get your shit together, a perspective of things, you know. I was thinking, maybe you could go to California and help Uncle Kenny. I talked to him..."

"What? You called Uncle Kenny? I'm not a fucking charity case."

"It would only be for a while, maybe the summer. He could use some help. You owe him Jesse, and besides, I can't have you around the house here all summer. Sarah's mood swings are crazy because of her pregnancy and I'm caught in the middle between you two. I've got a baby coming. I can't ..."

"Go ahead and say it, Jimmy, you can't have a drunk around the baby."

I closed my eyes and pursed my lips. My own brother was kicking me out.

"That's not what I meant," he growled. A moment of silence hung in the air and then his expression softened. "Kenny said he could use some help getting his new bar off the ground. Just call him, will you?" he pleaded.

"Fuck you," I said and took another swig at my bear.

His brow furrowed in anger. I was used to people getting pissing off of me these days and he was no different. "Aaargh. You are such an asshole, Jesse." He jumped to his feet and paced the room as he raged on. "With the baby coming, I need to make Sergeant this year and I can't do that with you fucking things up. If you stay here in Thunder Ridge, it's just a matter of time before, you know? One more fight, Jesse and I will be arresting you. One more girl and before you know it, someone's pressing charges, serious charges, like assault. You had better get your shit together, man, that's all I have to say."

"Oh, I know." I let out a breath. "It's always the same thing with you, isn't it? Perfect Jimmy Cop. Always doing the right thing. The big hero of the family. The good guy, right? Well, I'm not as perfect as you are. I know I am the ugly black spot in your perfect situation and you just want me the hell out of your life. You are fucking afraid I am going to destroy your career, right?"

"That's not true and you know it." He pushed his hand through his hair. "I just want you to grow the fuck up and stop being such a dickhead all the time. Go help Uncle Kenny, get some...Cali sun and come home when training for next season starts." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, and then let it fall limply to his side. Arguing with him was hopeless. He had already made his decision. His back was to me as he was about to walk out of the room.

"You've got two weeks to pack your shit and get out." He exhaled and walked out. I hung my head down to my chest, the beer can sat untouched on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Deep down inside, I knew Jimmy was right. I was a fuck up and I did owe Uncle Kenny. It wasn't Jimmy's fault. He had to take over as a father role back when dad died. Being just a damn kid himself, now robbed and deprived of his own childhood, forced to step into the shoes of a man much too soon in life. And Uncle Kenny, he stepped up when dad died and helped too. Hell, what else could he do, it was his only brother and he felt responsible to care for us and mom. He brought us bags of groceries when mom couldn't manage. He paid our electric bill to get the lights turned back on when mom didn't have enough money. He showed us how to ride motorcycles and how to handle a wrench to fix our bikes.

He helped out for about a year after dad's death, as far as I can remember. Hell, I was only eight at the time. Jimmy remembers more than I do, but Uncle Kenny taught me everything I needed to race motocross. We even built a dirt track on our acreage with berms and everything. Everything was great up until...that day he was no longer there. Didn't even say good-bye, just left us and that's when mom got depressed, just kept to herself most of the time after that. But still, if it wasn't for Uncle Kenny helping after dad died, we would have ended up in foster care, or worse.

It was getting to be the end of May and I figured I better get the hell out of Jimmy's house before he blew a gasket. I had decided to take Uncle Kenny up on his offer out in California, but only for the summer. That was about all I figured I could take of that place. Despite all the great things I'd heard about California, the sun, the sand, the beach, I didn't look forward to LA girls or LA guys for that matter. From what I knew, the entertainment capital of the world created superficial people. Shallow chicks obsessed with their fifteen minutes of fame and a desire to spend someone else's money, and egocentric hollow guys that never saw the world beyond their own nose tip. To me they were all just bitches with too much drama for my liking.

My trusted pickup truck was loaded with all my shit, well, the important stuff I needed for one summer, and I was in for a five day drive. I didn't mind the drive. It calmed my nerves and besides I needed my own wheels once I got there. I couldn't put Uncle Kenny up to any more trouble. I'm not that much of a jerk. He was doing me a solid, giving me a place to stay and a job.

It was the big fake farewell scene and everyone had made me promise to call or at least text. I sat in the driveway ready to take off, Jimmy and his wife waving. I looked down at my left hand gripping the steering wheel. I squeezed as tight as I could, but the stiffness still remained. Damn, not a good grip.

"The recovery could take up to nine months," the Doc had said.

What the fuck was I going to do with myself for 9 months when I couldn't race or even practice? This was such BS. All my training and sacrifice just flew out the window that day when I crashed. One maneuver on the bike that I had done millions of times before suddenly went wrong.

My heart sank. There was nothing left to do but put the truck in reverse and leave. Who knew, maybe my brother be right after all. Maybe a change of scenery would help. I sure as hell doubted it.

Chapter Six.

Jesse Most of the first day driving was spent brooding about my life and the lack of my ability to not only race and have the career I loved, but also just the ability to ride my motorcycle for fun. Riding soothed my soul. Just the feeling of me and my bike out in the open, the wind blowing past my body, it was indescribable. It made me feel alive and nothing beats that. It was my passion, my fire, my life. Damn. The thought of losing it all clenched my gut like a vice grip. What if I never gained back the full function of my hand? What if I could never race in competition again? Maybe I should just break out the rocking chair now and reminisce on the career that was. Maybe that was how my book ended. Well, fuck how all that pissed me off. And that's how I had spent most of my days lately, pissed off and not handling it well.

I cranked up the radio and blasted my favorite rock station, the harder the better. If I couldn't drown my sorrows with booze while driving, I was hell bent on numbing myself with music. Later, when the familiar radio stations faded and the radio static was all that was left, I hooked up my iPod, leaning back in my seat, and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. The wheels of my truck ate up the gray ribbon of pavement as the first day faded into the next.

Two days later, this driving cross country shit didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. I was just outside Denver, Colorado, on Interstate 70. My plan was to make it into Denver and find a room for the night. Fuck it. My ass was getting numb. I couldn't take one more minute in this truck. I pulled off the Interstate in Bennett, CO, into a gas station and used my cell phone to Google a cheap motel for the night. Bennett, Colorado looked like a nice town, one with good neighbors, people who cared about each other. You know, the kind of hometown that was remembered with nostalgia by those who had left it behind. I swiped my finger across my phone screen and "bingo" I'd found a motel. After filling up the tank, and throwing out too many empty potato chip bags and beef jerky wrappers, it was a short drive over to the motel. I nosed into the parking space in front of the small place and a glowing red neon sign in the window of the adjacent storefront caught my eye. Hell yea! "The Corner Pocket." This looked like a good place to get a brew sky and it was right next door.

I stepped out of my truck, stiff from the drive and walked like an old man into the office to check in. Old motorcycle injuries have a way of messing with your muscles like that. Fuck. I couldn't wait to feel the cool brew sliding down my throat and a chaser or two, or four, or maybe more, of Jack. I got the room key but didn't even bother putting my bag inside, or moving my truck. I headed straight for the bar, figured they'd have a burger on the menu to go with my liquid dinner of booze.

It was late when I walked into the darkness of the "Corner Pocket". A few locals were hunched over the bar, nursing their beers. A dreary country song was playing and the piped in music was only interrupted by the click of pool balls in the back. A guy in cowboy boots and a girl in a white tank-top, and cut-off jean shorts, were playing a slow game.

I slid up to the bar and raised a finger to signal the bartender. He yelled to a girl at the other end of the bar, "Holly, customer." I rubbed my face with the heel of my hands, tired from driving. A cute, young woman with long brown hair and long bangs that fell in her eyes ambled over to where I sat.

"What'll it be?" she asked with her pouty lips. She stared blankly, a few strands of her bangs catching in her long eyelashes. She sure as hell wasn't thrilled to be working in this dive. She tossed her head trying to move her hair out of her eyes while her hands were busy getting a beer glass.

"Just give me whatever's on tap and a Jack Daniels chaser."

She turned to walk down to the tap to fill the glass. Her plump, jean covered ass twitched, as she walked away. My eyes followed it like a tracking device. I liked her ass. It came with nice round tits that were exploding out the top of her shirt and I was sure, a not too tiny waist under that loose top. That was the kind of ass a guy could grab on to. She leaned forward, and slapped my beer on the sticky bar in front of me, dripping a puddle around it. Nice rack!

She held up the shot glass for my chaser and wiggled it in the air.

"Neat?"

I nodded and she poured. I downed the Jack first, and then drained half the glass of beer in one gulp. I tapped the rim of the empty shot glass for another, watching Holly drag her teeth over her lower lip. After she poured my second Jack she leaned forward on her elbows and looked me up and down. Her eyes stopped at my tat. Only part of it was exposed, creeping out from under the sleeve of my t-shirt.

"What's that say?" She cocked her head sideways trying to read the tat crawling up my arm.

I turned and cut a glance down to my bicep. I reached my left hand across my chest and pushed up the edge of my sleeve enough to expose the entire caption for her to see, and said, "Carpe Diem."

We both said, "Seize the day," at the exact same time. She laughed and broke a smile.

"Whatcha doin in town? Staying at the motel?" She batted her long eyelashes as she talked and reached down to run a glass through the glass washing station just under the bar top.

"Is it that obvious?" I crossed my arms and leaned on the bar.

"Yup. I can tell outsiders. You have that 'just passing through' look about you."

I snorted and shook my head. "Yea, you got me pegged." I shoved my hand through my hair. It never stayed in place. It was always falling down in my eyes. I should cut it, but I don't give a damn. I blew out a long breath.

My golden brown liquid friend Jack was melting away the day's tension. It felt good to relax after all the driving and the stress of being on the road. My beer glass was empty by now. She eyed it like she could read my mind. She didn't need to ask, but I answered, "Just keep em coming." She twitched away again to refill my beer and I slouched into the back of the tall bar stool until she returned with my drink.

"Thanks. You got a cheese burger on that food menu?"

"Sure do. A nice juicy half pounder."

"Cool. That sounds perfect...um, Holly?" She batted her long lashes again, their dark length flicking at a wisp of her bangs. That was hot. I felt a twitch in my groin, and a little smile quivered at the corner of her mouth.

"Yea, I'm Holly. What's your name, hun?" She stood poised with one hand on her hip and pushed a coaster at me for my weeping beer glass, then turned around to put in my order.

"Jesse and..."

"No, wait. Don't tell me. Let me guess. I'm pretty good at guessing where people are from." She turned her head to give me a sidelong glance, scoping me out. She rose up on her tippy toes for a minute to peer over the bar to get a good look at my clothes and well, my body. I could see her eyes stall at my chest and upper arms. I glanced down at my chest and arms, and then looked back at her. She settled her weight back into her heels, coming down off her toes and her tits jiggled a little. Nice. Shit, she'd already eyed my tat, now she was eye fucking me up and down. This could be promising. She opened her mouth to talk but I cut in.

"Wait, Holly. Let's make this interesting. Me and you and my old friend Jack are gonna play a game. You guess where I'm from and if you're wrong, you take a shot. You get three guesses and every time you are wrong, you gotta take a shot. If you guess right, I have to take all remaining shots. Deal?" I smiled a cocky smile and crossed my arms across my chest.

She pursed her lips, looked up to the left and twisted her mouth to the side, pulling in her bottom lip. "Hmm. It's time for my shift to end, but okay, hun. I'm game." She reached under the bar and slammed a clean, empty shot glass on the bar in between both of us.

"Uh, uh girl. Three. You get three guesses. That'd be three glasses, baby." She rolled her eyes and huffed, before dragging two more shot glasses from the wash area under the bar. She pushed them into a neat row and looked up at me.

"Fill'em." I ordered and raised my eyebrows. She responded to the teasing twinkle in my eyes with a "come on" look, and she filled all three with Jack Daniels. She leaned her weight into her elbows on the bar, screwing up her face like she was thinking hard.