It's almost ten at night when Dylan and I arrive in Pittsburgh. We decided it'd be the best place to spend the night so that we can recharge and get in a little more distance tomorrow. I'm not opposed to making stops either though. Truthfully, I wouldn't mind dragging this adventure out for as long as possible. I know that Dyl needs to get back to work though.

"We should go to the Andy Warhol museum tomorrow," I suggested as I set mom on the small desk in front of the hotel window. We'd called ahead and let the reception know that our check in would be late so they left the room unlocked for us. From our suite, we could see the iconic museum and the glow of lights from the windows. Hundreds of windows.

Dylan, who was sitting on the edge of our one double bed, toed off his shoes and nodded. "Yeah. We could. You don't want to get straight back on the road though?"

"We can if you'd prefer. I just thought that we could take advantage of our stops. But you're probably in a hurry to get home, right?"

He shook his head. "Nope. No rush. Cora is covering the position of head chef while I'm gone."

"She'll be loving that," I leaned against the desk and crossed my ankles. Cora loved her job. Loved it. And Dylan loved her passion. The two worked well together but he knew that when her time came, she'd snatch up a position as head chef if the right offer was made. Even if it did mean leaving The Hot Plate. And Dylan understood that.

"Yeah," he smiled. "She is. So like I said, there's no rush. We could go to the Zoo as well?"

"Ooh I could get some photos. That would be fun."

His grin was soft but his gaze was tired. Exhausted in fact. He'd been driving for almost seven hours so I wasn't surprised that he couldn't seem to find the strength to sit upright.

He pinched the back of his shirt and started pulling it over his head. "Yep. But for now, I need some sleep. I'm wiped."

I swallowed and averted my gaze from his smooth defined torso. He looked even more chiselled than he did when we went to New Zealand. Still lean. Slim. But muscular. I wondered if he'd been working out more since we hadn't been talking. He might have had more time now that I wasn't hounding him to hang out with me all the time.

"Yeah I'll snooze too I think."

I wasn't holding onto hope for a full night's rest, it had been over a month since I'd had more than four hours sleep. We chose a hotel with one bed. It wasn't the only option and there was nothing devious about it. Again, it was our norm. It was what we would have done before our lives unfolded and so Dylan didn't even ask, he just booked the room. Because he knew. Besides, I needed him close. He made me feel safe and secure. When his arms wound around me during the night, it was enough to keep my broken bits together so that I had a moment to rest.

After I had changed into a pair of flannel pants and a thin sleep sweater, I climbed in beside Dylan. He had his arm behind his head, staring at the roof with thought. Suddenly, strong and without warning, I was confronted with memories of our beach kiss. The one that had set a series of events in motion. A kiss that made me believe in love after being a skeptic for so long.

I remembered his weight on top of me, his hand holding my face, his hair sliding through my fingertips as he moved his mouth with mine. Soft and slow but with strength that served to express his passion. It was one of those kisses where his tongue would dip and meet mine and then he would soften so our lips grazed in the most sensual way and then he would pick up his speed and slam his mouth down again. I tingled all over just thinking about how our lips had danced together.

"You'll never guess who came into work last week," Dylan said from beside me. We weren't touching but I could still feel him. Feel his arm next to mine. I rolled over so that I was facing him and raised a brow, waiting for him to tell me. "The Lahey twins. Max and Lucas."

"No," I gasped. "What were they like?"

He shrugged, still staring at the ceiling. "They were nice. The one with all of the tattoos was kind of loud. We had two complaints about him from the other customers in like, the span of an hour."

"Lucas," I nodded and thought back on all of the Instagram stories I'd watched of him and his siblings. "Yeah I've heard that he's a bit out there."

Dylan's brows lifted and he nodded with amusement. "Yeah but they ordered a ton of food. So I can't complain. I tried to call and tell you. But it said that your phone number was out of service."

"Yeah I dropped my phone off Allie's balcony a few weeks ago."

"On purpose?"

I nodded and he peeped down at me. "Why?"

"Because I wanted to."

He laughed and ran his hands across his face, smothering a yawn. I probably should have let him go to sleep.

"Dyl," I said and he folded his arms across his chest and watched me, still on his back. "I like this stubble. You suit it."

I ran my finger across his jaw and chin, feeling the wiry, sharp hair beneath my tips. I was immensely grateful for the fact that he wasn't asking me questions or talking about our few weeks of absence or asking me about the kiss. He was giving me the satisfaction of pretending like all was normal. But it wasn't.

My heart was almost coming out of my chest as he stared down at where I lay on my side, one hand tucked under my pillow, the other running my finger, slow, across his bottom lip.

"Brecken said I look like a prepubescent knob with peach fuzz."

I snatched my hand back and laughed. "You look like a man. Your stubble isn't lacking. Believe me. Breck is just jealous."

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Right. Sure. Brecken has the facial hair of an angel."

"It is sort of perfect."

Dylan looked down at me with his mouth hanging open, like I'd offended him.

"But yours is gorgeous too. I promise."

He grinned and then without warning, he cupped the nape of my neck and held me in place as he rubbed his jaw on my cheek, scratching.

"Cut it out!" I squealed, breathless and giggling as I pushed on his chest and tried to get free. It was useless, he had me in an iron grip with both hands holding onto my face while he scratched me with his stubble. "Dilly, I'm going to end up with a rash! Quit it!"

He leaned back, laughing but he didn't let me go. His hands continued to cup my neck and he looked me over. "Nope. No rash."

"Whatever," I pouted and touched my face. "I bet it's all red and irritated now you beast."

"Nope," he continued to grin. "Just as beautiful as usual."

My stomach turned over itself and I inhaled a deep, embarrassingly loud, breath of air. I disguised it as a cough and snuggled further into the covers. As far as hotel beds went, this wasn't the worst one. The sheets were soft and smelled fresh. The mattress wasn't rock hard either.

"I should get some sleep," I told Dylan, knowing full well that I wouldn't be drifting off any time soon. "Thanks for coming with me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He slipped his arm under me and pulled me in close until we were flush and I rested my head on his bare chest. His skin was warm against my cheek and the side of my mouth. I turned in a little closer and hoped that my lips on his chest wouldn't be obvious.

I didn't kiss him or move, I just kept still and inhaled his scent and let his skin warm my lips that so much wanted to be on his.

"Goodnight, Bea," he kissed the top of my head

My response was muffled due to the fact that I had my mouth on his chest. But my lips moved as I said goodnight to him and I felt goosebumps form beneath them. I smiled and felt my lids become heavier. Finally. I felt like I could sleep forever.

In the morning, we went to the museum. I carried mom around in her urn and received some curious looks which I gave not a single fuck about. And then we went to the zoo where I did the same thing again. This was an adventure after all. The last one that I'd have with her. We got back on the road at three and drove until eleven at night. We spent our second night in Toledo.

While we were there, we went to the Toledo, museum of art and saw the glass pavilion showcase. And then we went to the imagination station which is a science museum for kids.

Our trip took us through Chicago and Denver and as we drove into Nevada, I had an idea that I believed to be genius. It was eleven in the morning, we'd decided to get up at the crack of dawn and begin our travels rather than wandering around St George where we'd spent the night. "Let's stop in Las Vegas, sleep for a few hours and then go out tonight?" I suggested.

Dylan was behind the wheel with a new pair of sunglasses on and a coffee in one hand. He looked at me for a brief moment and a smile began to lift his lips. "That could be fun."

"It will be fun."

"Breck and I used to talk about recreating a night like The Hangover. Remember that? You'd get pissed whenever he said that you couldn't come."

Never mind the fact that Breck was begging me to marry his brother a mere few weeks ago. "Yeah. Jerk. But anyway, you can't recreate that shit. You either have the most wild night of your life and wake up missing a tooth and finding a child in the closet. Or you try and plan it to end up being the most wild night of your life and it turns out to be boring and lame because you couldn't meet your own expectations."

"True," he laughed, dropping his coffee cup into the centre holder. "I bet you didn't plan on leaving a crumb trail towards your bag and managing to close a pigeon in it. But there we go."

"Wait," I sat up straighter and threw my hair over my shoulder. "You know what happened that night?!"

He started to burst out laughing.

"Dylan! You saw me on the floor desperately trying to remember what the fuck happened after I had all of those belly shots off Lizzie. That's the last thing that I can clearly see in my mind."

He chuckled. "Lizzie was like. . . a different person that night."

"Irrelevant," I waved a hand at him. "Tell me everything you know!"

"It's not a big deal. You met that colleague that Lizzie works with and I dunno, he must have enjoyed watching you body shot tequila off her or something because the two of you disappeared and then you came back half n hour later with a condom stuck to your back and I tried to tell you but you wouldn't listen. You just kept screaming at me that you had some bet going on and you needed to catch a pigeon. So I stood back and watched you at the park, leaving a trail of crumbs then one flew straight into your enormous bag, you zipped it up and literally ran off while I stood there holding your shoes."

"You let me run off alone? In that condition."

"What, of course not. I took you to Allie's. You kept telling me that a bird would look perfect in her environmentally friendly house. Lots of plants, you said."

I winced. "Perhaps I should have left that particular event in the void of lost memories."

We arrived in Las Vegas and drove around for a little while before we went to the strip in search of accomodation. We figured that if we were making a stop in Vegas, we should do it right. And that included booking a suite at the Luxor hotel and casino. It was beautiful and buzzing with excitement. The entire city had this palpable energy that was impossible to turn from. It moved through me, putting a spring in my step as I cradled the urn and followed Dylan into our room for the night.

The room was labelled, Tower Elite King Room. I wasn't sure why, apart from the king sized bed. It was minimalistic with sleek appliances and furniture. We had a television and a coffee machine and a desk. The mini fridge had a selection of alcoholic drinks lined up nice and neat on one side and I hated to think how much one of those cost.

After finding a spot for mom on the desk, Dylan and I jumped into bed for a nap. I think that he was grateful for the chance to rest after we'd been driving from before five in the morning. We cuddled in together, just like we had been for the last week and snoozed.

By the time I rolled over, stretched and wandered over to the window to peep, the sun had gone to sleep and Las Vegas was wide awake. Illuminated with neon, the strip was restless with thousands of people littering the sidewalks and bar fronts. I could hear the energy coming from below and I became excited to join in. Even if there was an enormous hole in my heart that hurt whenever I breathed.

"Rise and shine!" I sung to Dyl who I knew was awake from the way that his breathing had picked up in pace. He opened one eye and smiled.

"What's the time?"

"It's time to get up," I stood at the foot of the bed and ripped the comforter off the bed, prompting him to curl up into the foetus position. "We're burning daylight here, Archer. Up and at em."

"It's dark out. We're not burning daylight. We're burning optimal slot machine time."

Before he'd finished his sentence, he jumped up off the bed, grabbed my hand and threw me onto the mattress before he made a run for the bathroom.

"Not today," I sprung back up and ran after him. He was just closing the door when I threw my whole weight against it, assuming that he'd be holding it from the other side. However, I didn't anticipate for there to be zero resistance and I fell into the bathroom, the door hit the wall, bounced back and smacked me in the back of the head where I laid on the floor.

"Shit," Dylan was laughing but I could hear his concern as he swept me off the floor. "Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd put your entire weight behind that. Sheesh. Nutcase."

"I was up first," I rubbed the back of my head and giggled at how spastic that entire thing must have looked. "So I get the first shower."

He laughed and opened the glass door. The shower was dark, black tiles and a satin black shower head. He switched it on and grinned, still shirtless with a fluff of bed hair on his head and we stood so close while the steam began to rise and trickle out of the glass door.

"Don't get any ideas, first shower is mine," I gave him a playful scowl and ripped my tank top off so that I was down to the cute bralette that I'd forgotten to take off last night. It wasn't as uncomfortable as a proper bra so I didn't mind. However, the lace fabric was thin and I could feel my nipples perk and become tight as Dylan watched me with nothing short of fascination.

His throat bopped up and down and he pointed behind me. "I'll wait— out here. Shower fast. The sooner we get our night started, the better."

Stopping in Las Vegas to spend the night going from casino to casino was never part of the plan, so I hadn't packed for it. But I refused to go out in anything less than an over the top, sequin dress that screamed tourist. We'd popped into a small clothing store on the strip, knowing that it'd have the right attire and I'd find something more exciting than my usual jeans and sweaters.

The thrill was real when I found a playsuit made of dazzling red sequins, the straps were spaghetti thin, the waist was fitted and the neckline was low and loose fitting. Blessedly, the store also sold boob tape so that I was able to keep my braless chest in place without concern of suffering a nip slip. I paired the outfit with some knock off Louboutins that I wanted for the sole purpose of having the red bottoms match my outfit. I wasn't about to go and find a real pair, I couldn't care less right now.

Dylan bought a suit. Well a few parts of a suit. He wore a nice pair of black pants, a charcoal shirt with the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked so tall and gorgeous as we wandered through the Cesar Palace casino hand in hand. We'd been wandering from bar to bar on the strip for a few hours, we'd had a lot to drink and we were in search of more.

It was more extravagant than I'd expected. Spacious, bright, green felt table tops for card games, a lot of noise including chatter, celebration and the constant whirring of slot machines. I watched a row of glamazons in their high end outfits and their shoes that screamed wealth, pulling the levers, waiting with anticipation as the wheels turned and stopped one at a time to either reveal a win or a loss. There was a lot of loss. But that didn't stop anyone from slipping more coins into the slot and starting again.

"Dyl," I clung onto his arm and stared up at him. "Don't let me on one of those. I'll spend all of my money just trying to win out of principle."

He laughed. "Yeah I think I'd end up cheering you on because I can't help but want to see you win."

I stopped, fast and abrupt. He stumbled a little but turned around to watch me.

"That was so sweet," I cooed. "That's really how it is, right?"

"Me wanting to see you win?"

I nodded.

"Yes. Of course."

"But at like everything! You're my biggest supporter!"

He smiled and slipped his hands into his pockets. "What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn't your biggest supporter?"

I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest. "I love you, Dilly. You know, I think that I know that you're my biggest supporter and I maybe lean on that too much and like it's unhealthy because I'm so dependent but I can't help it because you make me feel so good."

His lips touched the top of my head and he squeezed. "I have to tell—"

We were bumped into by someone scooting back in their chair, he stood up and apologised before scuttling off. Dylan watched him and then his cunning stare fell on the slot machine and he sat down.

"I've seen this in the movies," he wiggled his fingers and pulled the lever.

Nothing.

So he did it again and then the machine started making a siren sound and it lit up while it spat coins at us and we looked at each other with excitement.

"Quick, before he comes back," Dylan started shoving coins into his pockets.

"I don't have pockets!"

"Stick them in your bra."

"I'm not wearing a bra!"

He paused and stared at my chest. "Really? Wow. Um— you can't tell. They look— great."

"Thanks."

"Hey," the man who had been sitting here before appeared at the end of the row and pointed at us. "That was my quarter!"

Dylan stood up and both have us started a fast walk in the other direction, breathless and giggling while we held on to all of the coins that we could handle. I should have brought a bag with me.

Thick throat, eyes glued together, mouth drier than unbuttered toast, I chapped my lips and stirred in the sheets. The first thing that I noticed was that I was naked, which elevated my heart rate because nothing good has ever come from me waking up with no memory, naked. This is the start of every movie set in Vegas. Ever. Shit, I hoped that I was still in Vegas.

I rolled over and saw that the bed beside me was empty. For a second, I wondered if I was in someone else's room. But then I saw my urn and sighed with relief. I also tugged the sheet further up my chest because I felt exposed and embarrassed in front of my mom.

The room was dim, outside it was clouded over and I couldn't tell what time it was. I just knew that it was no longer the middle of the night. A snore startled me and I looked down at the floor beside the bed and saw Dyl wrapped in a towel and nothing else. His hair fell across his face but I could see that his lips were parted and there was drool pooling on the carpet beside him.

But the part that had me clutching the sheet tighter, balling it in my fist and scoring further towards the edge of the bed, was the state of his firm tan back. Scrawled in permanent marker, were the words 'JUST MARRIED.' My stomach twisted with so much violence that I thought I was going to be sick.

Did Charlie find us last night? Did she decide to jump on the chance to get hitched, myself and God as her witness. I would kill he—

"What's that?" I said, out loud and desperate for an answer when I noticed the ring on my finger. That special finger. It felt cheap and the small rock was made of plastic but the intent was there. I knew what sort of ring this was. I screamed. I screamed so loud that Dylan stood up, stumbling, eyes half closed and his towel fell off.

I screamed even louder and then he shouted and slapped his hands in front of his dong.

"Did we get married last night?!" I waved my hand at him and his gaze became wide with terror. He lifted his own hand, leaving him uncovered as he stared at the band on his wedding finger and I screamed again. "Dylan!"

"Oh shit," he picked up the towel and wrapped it around his waist. He chapped his lips, ran his hands through his hair and blinked fast a few times. He looked exhausted as he exhaled a deep breath and stared at me. "Bea, did we get married?"

"I just asked the same thing!"

"Stop screaming."

"I didn't come here to recreate the hangover Dylan! That was never part of my plan. That was your plan. With Breck. What the fuck is going on?"

He couldn't answer me. Instead we stared at each other, we looked down at our rings, we shared panic and we racked our brains for an answer to what the fuck happened last night.