Free Hearts on Fire by Alison Packard Page A

would
prevent people from taking her songwriting seriously, she’d chosen
a pseudonym, then kept it after she’d hit it big. A great many of
her songs were personal, and she didn’t want to feel obligated to
explain them. And after seeing how the media and tabloids dissected
every song Taylor Swift wrote, she was glad she’d made that choice.
    After leaving the Four
Queens, they each sampled a deep fried Oreo, and then hung out in
front of the Mermaid bar and listened to a local group called The
Party Rockers perform on the 1st Street stage. The lead singer, a
woman, had a great voice, and the band seemed to specialize in a
variety of dance club hits. The large crowd that gathered around the
stage danced and sang along with enthusiastic abandon. Then, they
watched in awe as one of the hourly light shows played on the canopy
high above Fremont Street. The kaleidoscope of colors combined with
the music and the archival footage of the legendary rock band, The
Who, was mesmerizing.
    Now, as she and Drew
walked hand in hand against the steady stream of tourists, they
navigated their way toward SlotZilla with the intent of catching a
cab that would take them back to the MGM. Despite the crowd, Fremont
Street had an intimate, laid-back party atmosphere, totally unlike
the more sophisticated vibe of the strip. When they reached Las Vegas
Boulevard, Drew led her away from the crosswalk to wait for a cab.
    “Did you have fun?”
He moved to stand in front of her. “Blondie,” he added, with a
grin.
    Jessie laughed and
touched the wig with her free hand. “Yes.”
    “I guess I owe you
fifty bucks. No one recognized you.”
    “I’ll let you off
the hook for the fifty since you paid for the zip line three times.”
She smiled up at him. “I could tell it wasn’t as fun for you as
it was for me.”
    “You know what? By
the third time, I actually liked it,” he said, then tugged her hand
as a cab sped past them. “Let’s walk to the corner. It’ll
probably be easier to catch a cab there.”
    As they headed for the
corner, Drew put his arm around her shoulders. The sun had long since
set, but the temperature hadn’t dipped much. The warm air brushed
over her skin and she let out a contented sigh. Although she and Drew
hadn’t talked about what had happened between them in her suite,
the smoldering glances he’d thrown her way for the last several
hours told her he’d been thinking about it. And so had she.
Especially when he touched her. “This has been a perfect night. I
wish it didn’t have to end.”
    “Who says it has to
end?” he asked, as they stopped near the corner. “All we’ve
eaten since lunch is a fried Oreo. Why don’t we go back to the MGM,
shower, change our clothes, and then meet for dinner?”
    “I’m kind of done
with crowds,” she said. “How about after we shower and change,
you come to my suite, and we’ll order dinner from room service?”
She paused and hoped she’d been reading him right all afternoon. “I
want to be alone with you.”
    “I want that too.”
The light from a nearby streetlamp slanted over his face and revealed
his darkened eyes. “Jessie, we should talk—”
    “No.” She lifted a
quick hand to his lips. “Not tonight. Let’s just enjoy being with
each other and worry about what it all means tomorrow.” At his
silent nod, she lowered her hand. “Look, there’s a cab,” she
said, as she spied a taxi slowing to make a left hand turn at the
corner.
    Seconds later, Drew
opened the door of the cab, but before she could duck inside, he
gently wrapped his fingers around her upper arm. She turned her head
to look at him. “It means a lot.”
    Her stomach fluttered
at the low, rough sound of his voice. “For me too,” she said
softly, then slid into the cab.
    An hour and a half
later, she ran a brush through her freshly washed and blow-dried
hair, and gave herself a quick once-over in the bathroom mirror. She
hadn’t planned on washing her hair, but after