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of headlights as “bees” and the river of taillights as “wasps.”
    “I am over her. I mean, I know she’s gone, she doesn’t want me. I’ll admit that still hurts, but I’m past hoping it’ll change. She’s with Jeff, and she’s happy. That’s good enough for me. I’ll move on. I’ll be fine.”
    “I know it’s none of my business,” Cleo said, “but I don’t think this is the way to go about getting over her.” She waved at the hotel room again, meaning what had gone on earlier.
    “No, you’re probably right. But…I don’t know. It’s not something that makes sense out loud. I’m not trying to forget her, just…god, how do I say it? I need to get rid of the hold she has on my heart.” Chase ran his finger back and forth on the railing, staring at the path of his finger rather than meeting Cleo’s too-knowing gaze. “For a long time after she made it clear she didn’t love me, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t make myself care about anyone. All I could do was play and write music. Which is all good and well, but…I can’t let the pain rule me. I have to get over her.”
    “I thought you were over her.”
    “I said it’s complicated.”
    “Meaning you have no fucking idea what you’re feeling, because there’s just too much going on.”
    Chase laughed. “Yeah, pretty much.”
    “My advice, for what it’s worth? Give it time.” Cleo rested her head against his shoulder, and they stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, Cleo pushed away. “Now get out of here.”
    “What about Kylie and Leah?”
    “They’ll be fine. This is what they do. They’re…complicated. I’ll tell ‘em you said ‘thanks for a good time.’”
    After he got dressed and left the hotel, drunk and dizzy and confused, Chase wandered Vegas on foot, trying to sort out what he was feeling.
    He’d told Cleo the truth about Anna; he was as over her as he would get, this soon. Seeing her had hurt, had dredged up a lot of emotions he’d worked to bury. But it had also reinforced the fact that she was gone.  
    But what he hadn’t told Cleo was how Jamie had affected him. She was still there, in his head. Under his skin.
    When he’d kissed Cleo on the balcony, the reason he’d pulled away was because all he could think of was Jamie. The pained, tortured look on her face when she’d torn herself away after their kiss. It was brief, but that one kiss had held more tantalizing pressure than Chase had ever felt. He’d been ripped apart by that kiss.
    Cleo, Kylie, Leah…he’d had fun, but now, alone after the fact, all he could think of was Jamie. Where was she? What was she doing? Was she with someone else?
    He imagined her at a bar, a bottle of beer in her hand, leaning into some half-drunk asshole with groping hands. The thought of some other guy’s paws on Jamie’s full, hypnotizing hips sent a pang of hurt through Chase. The idea of her going home with that guy, stripping for him, kissing him, touching him, letting him touch her ivory skin…it made Chase crazy with irrational jealousy.
    He tried to banish the images, but he couldn’t. All he could see was Jamie’s fiery curls and green gaze, and then he would see some faceless male clawing at her skin, the sweet flesh that should belong to Chase, but didn’t.  
    He could feel her palm scraping over his scalp as she kissed him, her balm-slick lips sliding on his, teasing him, her full breasts pushing against him, nipples pebbling against her bra hard enough to feel through the cotton.
    “Fuck,” Chase growled aloud.
    He swerved off the sidewalk and into a doorway, the bumping bassline from within the club promising a few hours distraction, at least. He sat at the sticky, scratched bar, watching fake-breasted strippers undulate against silver poles. He stuck to beer, lost count, lost track, lost time. The strippers became the same person, after awhile, delirious images of Jamie, naked, dancing just for him.  
    Eventually, he felt Gage