It’s been four days since my incredible night with Adam. I haven’t seen him since the breakfast the next morning, although he’s been on my mind constantly. Tonight is my last night in Vegas. A nagging sense of regret is starting to twist in my stomach.

You should have used the keycard, Laura.

Adam has been texting me daily. I’ve replied, of course, but I haven’t accepted any of his invitations for dinner or brunch. His presence is addictive, and I know how easy it would be to spend the whole vacation — meant for Amy — wrapped up in his arms.

As the days went on, I could sense disappointment growing in his messages. I wonder if he sensed the disappointment in mine. If only I were as brave or spontaneous as I was in college. Then I might have gone down the rabbit hole to find out where time with Adam might have led.

As it was, after our one-night-stand, I snapped back to reality. Now I’m kicking myself for being so uptight.

The night with Adam was the most exciting night of my life.

I decide to push the thought of Adam from my mind and focus on my night out with the girls.

Hannah, Naomi, Amy, and I are strolling down the boulevard crooning “I Will Always Love You” at the top of our lungs. In a couple of hours, we’ll be sitting in the audience listening to what the billboards claim is both the best Whitney Houston tribute and the best drag act in Las Vegas.

Until then, we’re having drinks in a bar on the strip. At Amy’s request, we’ve found another venue that’s a little cheesy. It’s casino-themed. All the bar stools have roulette wheels printed on the leather. The staff are dressed like card dealers. All the drinks are named after card games and casino catchphrases.

The lights are brighter than a real bar, which makes it easy to see the different people filing it. The crowd ranges from little old ladies with denim jackets and crazy pink hair to glamorous women with stiletto heels and immaculate makeup. Making up the balance are tubby men and handsome bachelors, both looking around with hungry eyes.

There’s a jukebox in one corner, playing everything from classic rock to Ed Sheeran. The atmosphere is low-key and relaxed.

As I look around, I keep noticing more thematic decorations like the giant playing cards for bathroom doors, with a King for the men and a Queen for the women, and a pool table made from an old blackjack table.

We sit together at the bar, purposefully putting ourselves in the sights of the bartender. Amy is hoping to have another wild night.

“Ooh,” Amy breathes gleefully. “I think I’m going to have a Snake Eyes.”

“I’m having a Lucky Slots,” Hannah says.

Naomi takes the cocktail menu from Hannah and runs her finger down the lists, heading straight for the section labeled Super Mixes.

She taps her finger on the card with joyful decisiveness and reads aloud. “The biggest cocktail in Vegas. One liter of champagne, rum, pineapple juice, cherry liqueur, and fresh fruit, with a trio of spirit chasers to follow. Warning — do not drink unsupervised.” Her lips curve into a wicked smile. “Looks like you’re carrying me home tonight, girls.”

Amy’s eyes widen, and she leans over Naomi’s shoulder to look at her menu. “Where’s that? What’s it called?”

“The Jackpot.”

Hannah cackles with playful laughter. “The real jackpot is the hot piece of ass Laura hooked up with on the first night here.”

She looks across at me with raised eyebrows, lips closing around the straw of the drink she’s ordered. “You never told us how brunch went. In fact, you haven’t mentioned his name again.”

I laugh and offer a casual shrug. “It was brunch. We ate. What else is there to say?”

“We need to loosen her up a bit,” Naomi insists. She motions for a waiter to come over. “Four Jackpots, please.”

“Naomi!” Hannah shrieks. “I was going to go easy. I’ve already got a drink in my hands.”

“Is this a bachelorette party or what?”

“I’ve got a feeling we’re going to regret drinking four liters of champagne.”

“And pineapple juice. It’s basically a smoothie.”

Amy smiles broadly, straightening up to accept the giant cocktails when they arrive. They come out in glasses the size of fishbowls, decorated with all kinds of straws and glittery ornaments. They’re practically overflowing with pieces of fruit on cocktail sticks and playing cards. I have to drag it across the counter toward me with both hands. When I take a sip, I can’t believe how much alcohol they’ve packed in.

“Wow!” I gasp. “That’s going to go straight to my head. At this rate, we’re not going to make it to Whitney.”

“We’re going to make it to Whitney,” Amy states firmly, chugging from her own glass/bowl. “And it’s going to be all the more fabulous thanks to these bad boys.”

Hannah’s sitting next to me at the bar. As Naomi and Amy go off to put a Cyndi Lauper song on the jukebox, she leans in toward me with a friendly smile.

“It’s just you and me now, Laura, so dish. What’s going on with Adam? How come you didn’t see him again?”

I look down at my drink, toying with one of the straws. I shrug. “Nothing’s going on. It was a one-night-stand. And brunch. A one-night-and-a-next-morning stand.”

“I know you. Ever since you were with him, you’ve been walking around with a dreamy look on your face. I can tell you like him. Your head shoots up every time a man with dark hair and a suit walks past. You want to run into him again.”

“And so what if I do? We’re both visiting Vegas. In a few days, I’ll go my way, and he’ll go his. It was never going to be anything more than a fling.”

Hannah wrinkles her nose and flips her hair back over her shoulder. “People fall in love in crazy situations every day. Have you never seen a romantic comedy? Sometimes the chemistry is instantaneous. When that happens, you’ve got to throw all your inhibitions out the window.”

“Life’s not a movie. I’m not going to pack up my life in Illinois and follow him home because we had a fun time in Vegas. One-night-stands are called one-night-stands for a reason.”

“Some women do it.”

“I’m sure they regret it.” I look across at Hannah. Her expression is eager and earnest. She’s been my best friend ever since our first year at college together, and she’s always had my best interests at heart. I trust her more than anyone.

“You know, they say you regret the things you don’t do in life. It’s the ‘what if’ that gets you when you’re years down the line and wondering where the time went.”

I laugh. “Hannah, how old are you? What’s in that cocktail? You’re getting pretty deep all of a sudden.”

She sighs and offers a small smile. “I’m thinking out loud, that’s all. Ever since you started your business, it’s like you can’t see anything else around you. I’m worried the right guy will pass you by.”

“There’s more to life than hooking up. I’m happy and successful. Men can wait. Especially random strangers I meet in Vegas.”

“He looked like he makes a fair buck.”

“He’s a salesman. I get the feeling he does pretty well for himself.”

“Handsome, too.”

I chuckle. “Are you working for him or something?”

“I think you should see him again. It’s good to see you looking relaxed and more like your old self.”

“All you girls have done since we got here is tell me how boring I’ve become.”

“It’s not like that. We want to see you enjoying yourself like you used to.”

“It was college, Hannah. People can’t behave that way forever.”

“You take life so seriously these days.” Hannah holds up her hands defensively. “It’s not an attack. Just an observation.”

I bow my head. “You know why it’s important to me to make good money.”

Her hand shoots out to take mine. She squeezes my fingers supportively. “Your mom’s debts are her debts, Laura. You can’t work yourself into the ground and back away from a love life because you’re trying to fix her mistakes.”

“Is it really her fault, though? She fell apart after my dad died. She was depressed and let everything go to pieces. She didn’t deal with his affairs properly. I should have done more for her. If I had known how much she was struggling, I would have stepped in.”

“None of it’s your fault. You were grieving, too.”

“That’s the point. She’s grieving and on her own now. The last thing she needs to deal with is worrying about her house getting repossessed or anything like that.”

“Downsizing wouldn’t be the worst thing for her. Then she’d have a little money left over each month. She’d be able to start making some payments on those debts.”

“That was the home she shared with my dad. It’s all she has left of him. I’ve got to keep helping out.”

“What about you? This trip is the first vacation you’ve had since you started the business. We had to drag you by your ear to come along.” She rubs my back gently. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m criticizing you, Laura. I’m trying to look out for you. You’ve seemed happy these last couple of days. If you’ve got the chance to have a bit of fun, I think you should let yourself go. You deserve to enjoy life. Spend some time being young and free.”

“Like them?” I jerk my head in the direction of Naomi and Amy, who are dancing like maniacs in front of the jukebox, drawing both stares and participants to their impromptu dance party.

Hannah laughs. “Just like that.”

I take her hand. “Let’s go join them.”

“I haven’t finished my Jackpot!”

“Bring it with you!”

She passes me my fishbowl and picks up hers. We waddle awkwardly over to the dance floor with the heavy glasses. I feel like I’m doing some kind of weight-based workout as I try to dance with it in my arms.

It’ll get lighter if you drink it.

I wrap my lips around two straws and suck up the sickly-sweet pineapple and cherry fizzy alcohol. As the cocktail gets lighter, I’m able to hold the fishbowl under one arm and lift my other hand in the air.

One of the girls puts “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” on, and we go crazy. Honestly, it feels like we’re back in college. I’m smiling from ear to ear.

An hour or so later, we stagger out and head toward the concert venue for a cocktail-fueled, Whitney-filled night of fun.