Free Arizona Heat by Ellie J. LaBelle

it comes to getting ready.”
    “Excuse me, ” I scoff. “Don’t group me with all the little floozies you hang out with after your concerts.”
    “Floozies? Did you time travel here from the 20s?”
    “Don’t you worry your pretty little face. I’ll be ready in ten minutes. ” I drag my suitcase to the bathroom and shoot him an exaggerated glare over my shoulder. I’ll show him how a real lady does it.

Chapter Fourteen
     
    My blonde curls are tousled in every direction like a lioness, my smokey eye is on point, and I threw on the only semi-Vegas-like attire I brought, all in under ten minutes. I walk out of the bathroom in a deep purple, sleeveless, tunic dress. It’s a little too short and therefore perfect for nightlife, although I expect to be substantially more covered than my female counterparts.
    Reagan looks up from his phone as I walk across the room. His eyes follow me as I reach into my backpack to throw on some bracelets and a necklace. When he doesn't look away I smirk a little to myself. See Reagan? A real woman can be ready in ten minutes and look ten times better than those little girls you hang around with. He says he doesn't sleep around with groupies but I have trouble believing that. I’m assuming there are thousands of them at his beck and call and he is a 20-something year old guy. I’m not naïve so I know how that goes.
    “I was going to FaceTime Francesca before we go if that’s okay, ” I say. Reagan nods his head, eyes never leaving mine. “You might have to say hi, just letting you know in advance. ” He smiles and if I didn't know any better, I’d say it was a seductive one. I sit down on the end of the bed and dial Francesca on FaceTime, holding the phone in front of my face.
    “OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD.”
    “Hi Francesca, ” I smile.
    “Where are you? ” she asks, moving her head as if it will make the camera turn and give her a view over my shoulder.
    “Vegas, ” I smile.
    “You’re fucking kidding me.”
    “Nope. I’m at a hotel.”
    “Where did you sneak off to so you could call me away from Mr. Sex on Legs?”
    “Francesca, ” I warn.
    “Will you stop fighting it Josie, ” she says, rolling her eyes.
    “Francesca, he’s–”
    “The sexiest man alive. No seriously, he is actually on People’s list of sexiest men alive and you get to gallivant around the continental United States with that piece of ass… ” She goes on like this for another two minutes and before she embarrasses herself more, I tilt the phone to the side where Reagan is leaning against the headboard of the bed next to me. It takes her another solid minute before she looks back at her screen, every moment Reagan’s smile getting wider. Her eyes are the size of golf balls once she notices him sitting in the background and for the first time in our six years of friendship, she is speechless.
    “I think someone wants to say hi to you, ” I laugh.
    “Holy. Oh. My. Fucking. Shit. Ass.”
    “I’ve had that effect on people before but never with so many profanities, ” he laughs.
    “Francesca, don’t you have something to say?”
    “Hi, ” she peeps.
    “Hi Francesca, ” he says in a singsongy voice that makes her gasp.
    “Josie, he said my name, ” she gawks.
    “He’s been known to do that on occasion, ” I mock.
    “I’m going to go now. Can we do this again once I’ve calmed down? ” she asks.
    “Of course, ” I say with amusement.
    “Bye guys, I love you Lewis. I mean Reagan. I mean Josie. Bye.”
    She hangs up on me and I turn to Reagan who wears an amused smirk.
    “When we get to New York can you please meet her in person? I have got to see her reaction if we show up at her door unannounced.”
    “Anything you want, ” he says and I feel a newly familiar flutter in my chest.
    “I just have one more call to make. ” I don’t look at Reagan when I say it. The flutter is replaced with dread as I watch him step into the bathroom and click the door shut. Taking a