I pause on the elevator as I stare at the wall of numbers leading all the way up to the top. This hotel only has thirty floors, so the number on Hayden’s note obviously isn’t a room number. There’s only one button above 30 on the wall and that reads POOL.

I tap it and the elevator doors slide closed. As I ascend, I rest my back against the golden wall and close my eyes to reflect on my day so far.

It started out like any other day, really. I woke up, happy to get the weekend off, but also dreading that I had to use my precious vacation days on my family reunion. Not the end of the world at all… until my strictly-platonic guy friend I was going to use as my date up and canceled on me at the last minute.

Then, it was a cataclysmic freak-out from Los Angeles to Vegas, endlessly wracking my brain for miles to figure out how I was going to dodge Dylan McCoy.

And that’s when I saw Hayden. Just a normal-looking dude.

Or so I thought.

The elevator slows to a stop at the top of the golden tower. It opens on a small passage leading to an opaque, glass door. About a dozen small lockers line each wall, along with several shelves of fresh towels stacked up by the far end.

I stop in front of the door and turn the knob, but it’s locked. A sign on the wall to the right lists the pool hours... and it’s very much closed at the moment.

Why would Hayden tell me to come up here if it’s closed?

I eye the keypad on the wall by the door and my brow rises.

4-7-4-2, I tap in.

The lock clicks open. I push on the door and my nose pleasantly twitches from the mix of chlorine and desert sky as I take a few steps out onto the roof.

Lights along the concrete illuminate the paths around the uncovered pool, guiding me toward various sitting areas and stopping at the tall safety fence surrounding the edge of the tower. The water shimmers thanks to the lights beneath the surface. They switch every few seconds, changing from blue to green to purple and back again.

“Marco?” I ask the open air.

“Polo.”

I spin toward his voice, quickly finding Hayden sitting on a bench in the corner against the fence.

“Wasn’t sure you’d show,” he says, smiling.

“Wasn’t aware I had a choice,” I say.

“Why not?”

“Generally, when a billionaire tells you to do something... ya do it.”

Hayden chuckles and pushes off the bench to stand. “I’m not that kind of billionaire.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask.

“I just figured you’d like a little time away from Dillweed.”

“You mean Dylan?”

His brow pinches. “Why? What’d I say?”

I snort as he slowly strides in my direction. “Either way, you’d be right. Not a lot of places to hide from him around here, unfortunately.”

“Unless you know the staff-only pool code and can sneak up onto the roof after hours,” he says. “You’re welcome.”

“Much appreciated. Thank you.”

Hayden stops in front of me with his hands in his pockets, softly gazing at me as the city life echoes up from the streets below us.

“I’m Hayden Botsford, by the way.”

I laugh, looking down to hide the rouge in my cheeks. “Penelope Warren.”

“We didn’t get the chance for a proper intro yet.”

“Just wasn’t enough time.” I bite my lip. “So, what kind of billionaire are you then?” I ask.

“Eh...” He shrugs. “One who’d rather not even acknowledge it most of the time. I don’t exactly do much to contribute to my family’s ever-growing enterprise.”

“You play baseball instead,” I say with a nod.

“That I do.”

“And help out around here whenever you can,” I quote.

He smiles. “That part is a little less true but it sounds plausible enough.”

“They seemed to buy it just fine. Though, I suspect that discount did most of the legwork for you.” I squint at his smug face. “Why did you do that?”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t part of our deal.”

“It cost me nothing and it made you look good. Seemed like the right thing to do. Do you like champagne?”

I blink as he suddenly walks back over to where he was sitting before. He bends down and grabs an ice bucket off the roof with a champagne bottle nestled inside.

“Uh... yeah,” I answer. “When the occasion calls for it.”

“With a view like this, I’d say it does,” he says.

I take the moment to ease closer to the fence as he pours two glasses. “It is really nice up here...” I smile at the vast canvas of flashing lights. “Never seen Vegas from this angle before.”

“You’ve never been up here?” he asks. “Your family comes here every year.”

I pause as he hands me an old-fashioned glass full of champagne.

“Sorry,” he says, raising his own. “I was in a hurry and couldn’t remember where to find the flutes...”

“How did you know my family comes here every year?” I ask. “Who are you really? Am I in danger?”

Hayden laughs. “No, Penny. Do you mind if I call you Penny?”

I take a cautious step back and he smiles.

“I snuck behind the front desk and checked your family’s reservation,” he says. “Saw the guest history right there.”

“Why’d you do that?” I ask.

“Because I was curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“You.”

My stomach flutters. “What’s so special about me?”

“Well, it’s not every day some random beautiful woman walks up to me and asks me to pretend to be her boyfriend. Needless to say, I was intrigued.”

Random beautiful woman?

I gulp. “Really?”

Hayden gestures to the bench and takes a seat, leaving ample space for me to comfortably join him but I linger back for another moment. “Is that something you do a lot?” he asks. “Ask men to fawn over you while Dylan sits and stews?”

I nod as I step forward and lower onto the bench beside him. “Unfortunately,” I say. “I usually have a guy friend lined up to bring with me but he canceled on me at the last minute this year. Had to improvise.”

“You couldn’t have just... not shown up?”

I laugh. “I couldn’t do that.”

He smirks. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people that actually likes their extended family.”

“They have their moments and my cousins are pretty cool. I don’t see them much.” I bring my glass to my lips, taking a quick whiff of it before swallowing a sip. “Actually, I didn’t cancel because I really like this hotel. The few days I get to spend here every year — for free, thanks to my Mom’s very wealthy family — is one of the only escapes I get.”

“Escape from what?”

“The daily grind and... what-have-you.” I shrug. “Life is just different out here in the desert. What happens here stays here. No one takes anything too seriously. It’s a nice change of pace.”

Hayden nods. “I can see that.”

I look at him, feeling the tickle of bubbles still caught in my throat. “I’m sorry I got you involved in my crazy family drama,” I say. “If I had known who you really were, I never would have—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says over me. “I didn’t have anything else going on anyway.”

My eyes drop to his legs. “Just a knee injury?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah. I’m not allowed anywhere near the field for another month.”

“That sounds awful.”

“Physically, it could be worse. Mentally…” He shakes his head. “I might be losing my mind a little.”

“Going stir-crazy?”

“Very. Let’s just say you showed up at just the right time to stop me from dying of boredom.”

I laugh. “How can you get bored in Las Vegas?”

“Being born and raised here is a decent start,” he answers. “I couldn’t wait to get out of here when I was a kid. High-tailed it out of here the first chance I got.”

“Then, what are you doing here now?” I ask.

He pats his left thigh. “Well, I can’t play and rather than warm the bench in the dugout for half the season, I came here to try and relax and re-cooperate. I mean, I get all my meals cooked and delivered to my room. People clean up after me. The towels are way better than mine, too.”

I nod. “Sounds pretty nice.”

He smiles. “It is.”

Dimples for days.

I turn my head away to stop myself from staring at him for too long. I watch the lights dance on the strip for a few seconds, locked in thoughts that scream even louder than the city below us.

What is even happening here?

Did he really just ask me up here to help me get away from Dylan and my crazy family?

If so, is it possible he’d… help me some more?

No. He’s done so much already. I can’t ask him to keep this up.

Or can I?

“So…” I clear my throat. “Since you…”

Hayden looks at me. “Since I…?”

“You said you were bored and everything, so…” I glance up, catching the amusement in his eyes. “Do you think you could…?”

“Keep pretending to be your boyfriend?” he finishes.

My throat tightens. “Yes,” I say. “Just through the weekend, I mean. I’m leaving Sunday night and after that—”

“Penny,” he says, “I’d be more than happy to continue our little ruse for as long as you need.”

I blink. “You would?”

“Sure…” he cocks his head, “but I’m going to need something a little sweeter than twenty bucks in-exchange for my time.”

“What?” I ask. “Like fifty bucks?”

“No.”

“Seventy-five?” I raise. “If you want more than that, then I’m gonna need to spend a few minutes at a poker table. I’m a little light on cash right now...”

His eyes fall to my lips. “No,” he says again.

I swallow hard. “Oh…”

Hayden lingers for another moment, his eyes slowly roaming my face. I hold my breath, completely high on bubbles and adrenaline as I wait to see if he’s going to do what I think he’s going to do.

He shifts just an inch closer and my heart stops.

Holy shit. Is he really?

“Poker,” he says.

I blink. “Huh?”

“You play poker.”

“I do?”

“Do you?”

“Uh...” I pause to breathe. “Yeah. I’ve been known to play a bit. Why?”

He smiles. “Come with me.”

My stomach drops as he stands. “What?”

He grabs the champagne from my hand and sets it down on the bench. “Come on,” he says.

I let him lead me across the roof as my heart pounds even harder in my chest. Questions flood my mind but they never quite make it through to my tongue.

Where are we going?

Why are we going there?

Was he really going to kiss me or not?

Hayden pulls the door open and gently shoves me to the elevator. He taps the call button and we wait for the lift to slowly ascend toward the roof.

After a few moments, I realize that he’s holding my hand. It’s solid and warm, not at all nervous or clammy — unlike mine. If it weren’t for his strong fingers holding mine together, they’d surely be trembling like crazy right now.

The elevator arrives and we step on together.

Hayden lays a finger at the top of the numbers and slowly slides it down to a button marked B2.

“Going all the way down,” he says, giving it a tap.

“B2?” I ask as the doors close.

“Sub-level basement,” he says. “Staff-only — usually — but I’ve got a connection or two around here.”

He flashes that damn puddle-inducing wink at me again and I smile.

But seriously.

Was he gonna kiss me or not?