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to jail, either,” Chelsea said, showing the empathy that made being her friend worthwhile.
    “You have no idea how awful it was. Reporters and cameras on the front lawn. Paparazzi following me to school. It was horrible. They invaded my life, and I hadn’t done anything wrong.”
    “Surely your dad will walk the straight and narrow now, though. There shouldn’t be any real story there, right?”
    “Even if it doesn’t last long, I’d guess that some reporter somewhere’s going to try to make a name on the scandalous news that a convicted criminal is attempting to return to his life in public service.”
    “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
    “Maybe I should change my name,” I joked.
    “If you hadn’t already taken the bar, that would be a great idea. Hey, I know what you could do,” Chelsea exclaimed.
    “What?”
    “You could marry Reed and take his last name.” She dissolved into giggles, and I stood up in amused disgust.
    “Not funny. I have to pee.”
    I walked to the bathroom, unable to get the image of Reed out of my head. He was impossible to forget. Tall, dark, sexy, tattooed, successful. Jesus, there was nothing not to like. Except for the obvious.
    I was simply going to have to avoid him. I knew there was no way I’d manage to keep my hands off him otherwise. He clearly didn’t seem to have a problem with sleeping with his stepsister, but I knew it was more than I could manage. I had important things I needed to focus on, like landing a job and getting my career started off right. I couldn’t afford to be distracted by a piece of ass … even if it was a really nice ass.
    When I got back to the table, I’d decided I was going to beg off the rest of the night. “I’m sorry, honey, but I just got a look at myself in the mirror, and I look as bad as I feel. If I don’t get to bed, I’m going to fall asleep on the dance floor, and that won’t be a pretty sight.”
    Chelsea stood up and gave me a hug. “That’s okay. You owe me a visit, though. Dallas might not have as many clubs as Vegas, but I can still show you a good time.”
    “Deal. Now you be careful, and I want a text when you’re getting on the plane. Don’t make me worry.”
    I took the surprisingly fast elevator ride down to the casino floor of The Palms, leaving Chelsea in the capable hands of Jax. I climbed into a cab, checked my phone, and saw that I had two missed calls and half a dozen texts from Garrett.
    “Shit.” I called him back after giving the cabbie his address. “Garrett, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot about class.”
    “Where the hell have you been?”
    “Um, Ghostbar?” I winced and braced myself for his response.
    “So not only do you blow off my class, but you do it to go to a club that was cool ten years ago. I feel double dissed.”
    Trust Garrett to not only make me feel guilty, but also unfashionable. “I’m sorry, Garrett. I’ve had the most fuckawful hangover, and you just will not believe the day I’ve had. I told Chelsea I’d meet her for drinks on her last night here, and I just flat-out forgot the class. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t go. I’d probably have thrown up and embarrassed you, anyway.”
    “Embarrassed yourself, more like.”
    “Well, anyway, I’m on my way home. Chelsea will probably still be drunk when she gets on the plane in the morning, but I’m just done. I’ll be home in about ten minutes.”
    “You going to tell me about this crazy day you had?”
    “It’ll keep until tomorrow. Suffice it to say, it was full of weirdness. I need some sleep before I can even talk about it anymore.”
    “All right, but don’t forget you have bootcamp class in the morning. And I will tell Seth not to take it easy on you.”
    “Deal. See you there.”
    Glad it was Garrett’s late night at the gym, I went home, got an enormous glass of water, put on my pajamas, and crawled in bed. I flipped on the TV, assuming I’d fall asleep within minutes, but when my third episode