For a city that created spectacles on the regular, First Friday in Las Vegas was its own kind of miracle. Gabe and Bex threaded through the crowd in the Downtown Arts Area, the sky darkening around them. Once a month, all the galleries stayed open late, and food trucks and vendors turned the streets into a festival. The whole affair was a perfect mix of historical and modern, tradition and innovation. Gabe was sure Bex would love it.

“I still can’t believe you haven’t been here before,” he said to her.

She lifted a shoulder. “Sometimes I get into this mindset that I’m a local so I shouldn’t do any of the things the tourists do. But that’s stupid. I don’t want to miss out anymore.”

He was so glad she’d changed her tune. Her whole carpe diem routine seemed to include him now, and if he was going to keep having mind-blowing sex with her, consider him on board.

Bex walked with her hand in his, and a late April breeze lifted her hair, giving him a spectacular view of her face. She was smiling, her freckles almost invisible in the dusk, but her lips still pink and enticing.

They passed a booth with a multi-colored tent, where a pair of dancers moved to a DJ’s pulsing beat. The dancers wore light-up bikinis that spelled out, “love,” with two letters on each boob. As the song continued, more dancers with LED lights on their gloves joined the dance, their hands spinning in a flurry of color and light.

Bex wrapped her arms around his neck and squealed. “This is so fun, Gabe.”

“Keep hanging out with me, honey. I’m full of good ideas.”

She rolled her eyes and drew him in for a kiss, and they stayed like that for a minute, her hips circling on his and her hands hot on his chest. It felt like sex with their clothes on, and Bex broke away, breathing heavy, and laughed.

“All this exercise is making me hungry,” she said.

Gabe leaned forward to nip the tip of her nose. “Then let’s feed you. Pizza good?”

Bex nodded.

“Why don’t you explore a little more while I wait in line?”

She lifted a shoulder. “If you’re sure. I’ll meet you out front of Illusion Arts.”

“Deal.” He walked across the street toward a food truck that wafted out the scent of tomato sauce and hot, melted cheese, then turned and watched Bex stroll through the streets. Whatever he had done right in this life, he needed to keep doing it. He couldn’t go back to a life without her.

The food truck vendor handed over two slices of pizza, and Gabe carried the soggy plates toward the Illusion Arts gallery. He planned to wait outside for Bex, but when he glanced inside the front window, his stomach dropped.

Bex stood, pressed into a corner, while Kevin brushed the back of his meaty hand against her face. She shuddered, and even from here Gabe could see her mouth form the word, “no.”

He dropped the pizza—did he, did he not?—and he couldn’t even be sure because he was running toward them, his chest tight.

“No!” Bex shouted again as he burst through the door. She shoved back against Kevin’s imposing frame, but the man didn’t budge.

Gabe grabbed the gallery owner by the collar and yanked hard enough to throw him off balance. Kevin stumbled to the floor.

“What the fuck, man?” Gabe shouted.

Kevin held up his hands. “It was all a misunderstanding, bud.”

Gabe’s face contorted with rage. “How the hell do you misunderstand a no?”

Bex’s hands dropped onto his shoulders and pulled him back, but he could barely feel her. “I’m okay,” she said in his ear.

He shook himself, and his mind snapped back into his body. He glanced at Bex, who nodded her reassurance. “Are you sure, honey?”

“Yes,” she said. “Let’s go.”

He pulled her to his side and hugged his arm around her, and the two of them turned as one toward the door.

But then Kevin sealed his own fate. “She asked for it,” he called at Gabe’s back. What a stupid fucking man.

Gabe’s fist swung out, connecting with Kevin’s jaw before he even realized he was moving. Kevin’s head snapped sideways with a sound like a watermelon hitting the floor.

“No, bud,” Gabe spat. “You asked for it.”

He led Bex outside and guided her to a bench around the corner, pulling them both down onto the seat so he could wrap his good arm around her. Her body trembled, and her hands balled into fists in her lap.

“You okay, honey?” Gabe kissed the side of her face.

“I’m okay.” Bex’s face was pale, and shock widened her eyes.

“Well, consider your honor defended.” He shook out his hand, wincing at the sting on his knuckles.

She gave a shaky laugh. “You just hit your gallery owner.” Then her mouth pulled into a frown of disbelief.

He couldn’t help the way he cringed. “Probably not my gallery owner anymore.”

Bex’s frown deepened. “You can’t just do things like that.”

Was she serious right now? “I can’t defend you?”

She shrugged. “You can’t beat up a guy just because he got handsy with me.”

Gabe dropped his hand from her shoulders. “You don’t think he deserved it?”

She cracked a smile. “Oh no, he did. He was ten seconds away from having his eyeballs pepper-sprayed out of his head.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Bex’s eyes pled with him, and a bitter tone underscored her voice. “I’ve spent my whole grown-up life convinced I was going to do this thing alone. And I’ve gotten pretty damn good at taking care of myself. I don’t need you to do it for me.”

Gabe shook his head. “Are you—Are you mad at me? For protecting you? I thought we were in this together.”

Bex frowned. “We are. It’s just not worth what you lost for me.”

Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

He captured her eyes. “You mean you’re not worth it?” His voice came out gruff. “That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”

Bex looked away.

“Oh, honey, no. Don’t, for a second, believe that. You’re worth everything.”

She looked back at him, and a sheen of tears coated her eyes. “That’s a lot of pressure, Gabe. It’s a lot of weight to put on this. This is new to me.”

“I get it.” He dropped a hand to her knee and squeezed gently. “I’m terrified, too.”

She snorted. “No, you’re not. You’re always so sure.”

“I’m terrified of a life that’s not fully-lived. I’m terrified of scaring you off.”

Bex sighed. “You’re not going to scare me off.”

“Promise?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re really something, you know?”

“I know.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “But wasn’t it a little hot when I kicked his ass?”

She smiled wider, tilting her head in acknowledgment. “Okay. It was a lot hot, actually.”

Gabe reached for her waist and pulled her close. “Oh yeah?” He drew his nose next to hers, his mouth an inch away from forgiveness.

“And he did deserve it,” she conceded.

“He did.”

He kissed Bex, long and slow, to steady both of them. The crowd streamed in the background, and the smell of freshly fried food wafted all around them—french fries, funnel cakes, and hamburgers on the grill. As the noise blurred in the background and the world fell away, the kiss turned into something hotter, making desire flare in his blood.

“I think we just had our first fight,” Bex whispered.

“Does that mean we get to have our first makeup sex?”

She smiled and climbed to her feet. Then she put her hand in his and tugged him through the crowd.

Gabe woke up in his bed, alone, with a throbbing headache and a cut across his knuckles from where he’d hit Kevin last night.

What the hell had he done?

It wasn’t just that he had lost this gallery show, but punching Kevin at First Friday where all of the gallery owners could see the commotion? It was just plain stupid. Gabe was going to pay.

As if the events of last night weren’t crystal clear, the voicemail from Kevin sealed the deal. “Show’s off, bud.”

Obviously.

Gabe slammed his fist into his mattress, rolling over to think. He’d needed this show—wanted a way to set himself apart from every other aspiring photographer. Maybe it should be enough to be able to make a living doing what he loved. But for him, there was a difference between doing commercial work and doing personal projects. He wanted to make an impact, leave a legacy larger than himself.

His brother’s name appeared on the screen of his phone as he was busy deleting Kevin’s message.

“Is it reasonable for me to live in downtown Vegas or should I aim more towards the suburbs?”

That’s how Vinny started phone conversations—no preamble, no hello. Just straight to the point. Gabe had learned to accept it over time, but it could still be disorienting if you weren’t prepared.

“Back up,” Gabe said. “You want to move to Las Vegas?”

“What can I say, I just miss my big brother too much.”

“Or you miss the easy ass too much.”

Gabe could picture Vinny’s grin. “Either way. I’m thinking I can pick up a bartending gig, make some cash, the works. You can help me find a place to live when I come out for your show.”

Were the fates fucking with him? Gabe closed his eyes for a long beat. “The show’s off, Vinny.” His voice sounded so weary, so resigned.

“So book a new one. My tickets are non-refundable.”

“I bet they are.”

“Jesus, who crawled into your panties and died? Not getting laid enough, my friend?”

Gabe gritted his teeth. He’d gotten laid last night, actually, pulling Bex into a bar on the way home to fuck her in the bathroom. “That’s not the problem,” he told his brother.

“Well, I’m coming out either way, so you might as well be prepared for me. Give me something good to tell the people back home about when I start talking about you. Mom keeps asking when you’re going to get your big break.”

Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sure thing.”

“Okay.” Vinny clicked off with no real warning. As he did.

Gabe should have gone back to bed when Vinny hung up, but his brother had a point. It was Saturday morning, and still too early for the galleries to be open. First, Gabe would help himself to a giant cup of coffee. Then he’d pick up the phone and start calling to find a home for his show.

Someone was going to say yes.

They had to.