by Lily Light
Huh. Stain-free.
“You hand wash a lot of clothes?” I asked by way of conversation.
Ryan snorted. “No, I just don’t want to pay for additional dry cleaning.”
Ryan paused and he seemed to study me curiously.
“Why did you kiss me back just now? Honest truth this time.”
I cornered Ryan against the sink. Ryan sucked in a breath as my bare chest touched his tux. I placed my hands on either side of him, trapping him in place.
I told him the truth.“Because I wanted to do that for the longest time.”
He looked at me like he didn’t quite believe me.
“Why would you want to kiss me?”
“So many questions.” I chuckled and he looked a little more unsettled.
I silently berated myself. This was Ryan, not some random hookup. I didn’t want to play around when it came to him.
“Is it so hard to believe I might be attracted to you?” I asked.
There. My confession. It felt like dropping a pin in a quiet room.
“I don’t believe you.”
Since words didn’t seem to work, I cupped his cheek. My short beard brushed against his smooth-shaven jaw. I took his mouth, not holding back this time around. I knew I was taking a huge risk, doing this.
For all I know, Ryan could push me away. And I’d retreat but I wouldn’t be defeated. I’d keep on finding ways to bring us together until I’ve erased his animosity towards me completely.
“Do you believe me now?” I asked once I’ve released his mouth.
“You and me? It would never work out,” he said, a little breathless.
“I can prove you wrong.”
“How?”
“Let’s get out of here first. There are too many eyes watching us at the reception.”
I didn’t mention the fact I wanted to avoid Jordan as much as possible. Jordan was overprotective when it came to his little brother. He didn’t need to be. Ryan could clearly take care of himself.
“There’s a sport’s bar on the eleventh floor of the hospital,” Ryan suggested. “They also have a karaoke machine.”
“You scoped the place out, huh?” I asked, amused.
Ryan huffed. “I figured I might need to drown my sorrows and sing my heart out after attending the reception.”
“You can’t carry a tune,” I reminded him. “But lead the way.”
He flashed a dazzling smile at me, then headed for the door.
Ryan halted, then blinked, as if he was remembering something important. I sure as hell hoped he hadn’t changed his mind about us.
“What about your shirt? It’s not dry yet.” Ryan pointed out.
“Screw the shirt,” I said, putting my coat on. “There. Am I dressed decently enough for you, Ryan Hall?”
He scoffed. “You’re ridiculous like always.”
“Ridiculous. Is that how you see me?” I asked.
I wanted to corner him again. That wall would do. That way, Ryan wouldn’t be able to squirm away. He’d have to face me for real, except I had a feeling if I resorted to that dirty tactic, I might risk losing him in the first place.
Ryan might find some other cute guy at the wedding to flirt with. Go to bed with. Unwarranted envy raced through my entire system. I couldn’t have that. Ryan was mine. At least for tonight. I’d make it happen.
“Noah.”
“Hmm?”
“You have a scary look on your face.”
“Do I?” I fixed my expression to my usual cocky mask. “Better?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Let’s get hammered.”
“Weren’t you trying to get me to stop drinking just now?” He asked as we left the bathroom.
I remembered to nab my drying shirt from the sink.
“This is different,” I told him.
“Oh yeah? How is it different?”
Because I want both of us to get hammered together. Because I’m here to watch over you so no other handsy guy would be able to steal you from me. Where these lines of thoughts were coming from, I had no clue.
Sure, our paths frequently collided. Jordan was my best friend after all and the Hall brothers were always close. This was different. I was no longer looking at Ryan as Jordan’s kid brother but something more. Certainly not a one-night-stand.
Faint danger bells rang in my head because there was a reason I didn’t do relationships. I was fucking terrified of being in a long-term commitment with one man.
My mom ran out on my dad and me when I was 8-years-old. Her departure never left my dad quite right. He never mingled, never remarried, or dated after that. I guess his loner ways rubbed off on me, even though he’d been dead for a few years now.
“The elevator,” Ryan said, grabbing my hand unthinkingly.
His inhibitions were certainly down and he only had like one glass of wine and half a beer. I decided I liked seeing Ryan like this. Less uptight. Less angry.
We headed to the eleventh floor and hung out by the bar. We both ordered more drinks and like the bastard I was, I didn’t stop him. I was on my way to getting hammered as well.
What was wrong with one night of fun? We started on beer. Then shots. I couldn’t remember how many we had but it was a lot. Enough for Ryan to stumble towards the stage.
He started singing the lyrics of Westlife’s ‘My Love’. I cringed, not at the lyrics but by how off-key he sounded. Like nails scratching on a chalkboard. His pitch was really high.
What did it matter? When his gaze met mine and Ryan flashed me that shit-eating grin, I was floored.
I waved at him like an idiot. “Sing another song, babe.”
Ryan didn’t narrow his eyes at me like before when I called him that. Groans came from the other people in the bar.
When one guy yelled at him to stop and come down, I fixed my meanest glare at him. He must’ve sensed Ryan and I were together because he backed off. Smart man.
“Woot, I feel like I’m on top of the world,” Ryan said, slurring his words as he made his way back to me. “You’re next.”
“Nah. I think I’ll pass up on karaoke this time.”
“Aw. Spoiled sport. Next time, you’re singing.”
I smirked at the promise of a next time. When we were more sober, I wondered if Ryan and I would remember a single moment of this.
“Tonight was awesome,” I told him.
Ryan stared at the empty bowl of peanuts in front of him and asked the annoyed bartender for another.
“It was. Best night of my life,” he said. “I needed this.”
“Me too.”
“How come?”
I was too drunk to care about the words that tumbled out of my mouth. “Because I lost my job and I need to find a new apartment soon.”
“What? You’re an accountant. A hot accountant,” he giggled.
I liked that he found me hot, even when I was roaring drunk.
“And so?” I asked.
“Accountants are always in demand, aren’t they? Wait, you’re losing your place? Your apartment is so nice. It’s facing Central Park.”
I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“Why don’t you crash at Jordan’s place?” He asked.
“Jordan lives in a one-room studio apartment.”
“Oh right. Well, don’t you worry.” Ryan patted my left bicep, a sheepish grin on his face. “You can live with me. My apartment in the West Village is great.”
“I know.” Jordan had shown me photos.
“Oh. Well, the offer’s on the table.”
I wondered if that offer would still exist the next day, when we were mostly sober and horrified by what we did and said to each other tonight.
Tonight. That was right. I didn’t want this moment to end. The night was young and full of opportunities.
“What do you say we move locations?” I asked him.
“Where?” Ryan looked blankly around the bar. “You’re right. We need a change of scenery. Your phone’
s been beeping for the last hour by the way.”
I looked at my phone on the table and sighed. It was Jordan but I wasn’t in the mood to hang out with the older Hall brother.
“I rather keep you company.”
“Ooh, nice. Let me check where we can go. Ooh, what about a dance club nearby?” He asked.
I raised an eyebrow. “A dance club? You like to dance?”
“Nah. I’m a terrible dancer but it sounds fun. Want to go?”
“Sure.”
I paid for our drinks and got up. We both could barely walk straight but hey, it was Vegas. Shit like this was bound to happen.
Just the thought of Ryan gyrating that sexy lean body of his and rubbing his ass against mine, made my dick happy.
I slung an arm over his shoulder and he actually leaned against me, rubbing at my beard like a happy puppy. Man, I wished this night would never end.
3
Ryan
It felt like someone was pounding a sledgehammer to my skull. I groaned, curling on my side. I wished I could go back to sleep and continue my erotic dream. My head hurt too much.
I opened my eyes and stared at my outstretched hand. A gold band on my ring finger glinted under the too-bright morning sun. What the actual fuck happened?
I heard the toilet flushing. Then the mattress dipped. I turned on my side only to see Noah flashing me a sheepish smile. Under the morning light, Noah’s eyes looked more bluer than usual, if that was even possible.
“Morning, babe.” Noah greeted
Morning? That was the only thing he could say to me?
To be fair, Noah didn’t look completely awake. He kissed me on the mouth and went back right to sleep. I noticed he wore a matching gold ring on his finger.
“Please tell me this is a joke,” I murmured.
Maybe I was still dreaming. I might still be inside that erotic fantasy where Noah stripped me naked and fucked me so hard I could barely walk. Except this was fast turning into a nightmare.
Noah was capable of fun and games but that was it. He didn’t commit, didn’t date. My stomach recoiled and I forced myself out of bed. I hurried to the bathroom and threw up the contents of my stomach in the toilet bowl.
I felt a little better afterward. I flushed, then brushed my teeth. I didn’t want to have vomit breath when Noah and I were sharing a bed.
Wait a second. Why would it matter?
I left the bathroom, surveyed my room. Our messy clothes lay in a heap by the door. Images of last night assaulted me. I was all over Noah. My cheeks heated, remembering how I begged him to strip me and fuck me good.
What the hell was the matter with me? I made a mental note to myself to never have a night out with Noah again.
I lifted my hand, stared at the ring again. Fuzzy memories rose to the surface of my mind. We walked to a pawnshop. Noah and I picked these rings on impulse or did I dream that up too?
I wandered towards our clothes to investigate, as if looking at them would give me answers. I spotted something under the pile. I bent down, only for the pounding against my skull to resume. Groaning, I plucked the piece of paper. My heart dropped.
A wedding certificate. This couldn’t be real. I squinted at it, hoping it was some kind of fake but nope. It had a seal and everything, including the place we got hitched. Little Chapel of the Rainbow flowers.
This had to be a joke.
My phone started buzzing by my feet. I swooped down again, grimacing. I plucked the device from the pocket of my trousers.
I had a dozen notifications, several missed calls and text messages from Jordan and my best friend and cousin Ian. Not wanting to face my brother anytime soon, I browsed Ian’s chain of messages. His last message had been sent three in the morning.
Ian Murphy: Dude, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to your wedding.
Ian Murphy: And you’re marrying Noah Collins? As in the Noah-I-hate-your-guts-Collins?
Ian Murphy: He said on his Facebook post that you guys have been dating for months. Like what the fuck is happening, man? Don’t do it. You’ll regret it.
“What Facebook post?” I muttered outloud.
I checked my social media account and my jaw dropped. It wasn’t just Noah at fault. I also uploaded selfies of Noah and me at the wedding chapel, kissing each others’ faces.
Someone had taken a picture of us, looking hammered, smiling like love-sick idiots, and holding each others’ hands. This way, everyone could see our matching wedding bands.
I immediately called Ian. Thank God he picked up immediately.
“Ian, this is so bad,” I said
Noah let out a groan from the bed.
“I tried to stop you,” Ian said. “I’ve called you like a dozen times then I figured you weren’t picking up because both of you were drunk and passed out.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. The last thing I remembered was going to a dance club. I think we swung by a pawnshop to get those rings.”
“Are they fake? They look real on the photos.”
“Real, I think. They’re heavy.” I drew out a breath. “Ian, what am I going to do? I don’t know what to tell Jordan.”
“Calm down. Take deep breaths. Good. How did this happen again?”
“I don’t know. We were both drunk.”
“You don’t have to explain any further,” he said drily.
“Babe, can you like, lower your voice? My eardrums are bleeding,” Noah said, finally sitting up in bed.
The sheets pooled down his very cut and inked body. For a second, I was at a loss for words.
I stared at his six, no eight pack abs and the trail of dark hair that I knew led—Oh hell no. This was how we ended having drunken sex and getting married.
Did we have sex? My ass felt a little sore, so check.
“We have an emergency,” I told Noah, holding out the certificate to him.
Noah rubbed at his eyes.
“Listen, Ian. I’ll call you back. I got to have an important talk with my husband,” I told my best friend.
“Okay, but let me know what happens. Bye.”
I ended the call. Noah finally dragged his very sexy ass out of bed and snatched the piece of paper from me. Then he looked at the ring on his finger, then the one on mine. It took a while but he finally understood the predicament we were in.
Noah swore. “What kind of trouble did you drag me into last night?”
“Excuse me? Why are you asking me? We’re in this together.”
“You’re right of course.” Before Noah could get another word out, there was pounding at the door.
“Ryan you in there?” My brother demanded. “Is my fucking traitorous ex best friend with you?”
“Shit,” I whispered, staring at Noah.
Noah only looked mildly alarmed. His reaction annoyed me a little, because here I was, panicking.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay, babe. I’ll handle this,” he said.
“Why do you sound so calm and no, it’s not going to be okay,” I blurted. “You haven’t seen the extent of the damage. We’ve posted our wedding photos on our social media accounts. You even changed your Facebook status from single to married.”
I thought Noah would have a heart attack about now but he only looked amused. God. This guy didn’t take anything seriously.
“I can hear the two of you whispering in there,” Jordan thundered outside.
“Shit. We’re both still naked.” I pointed out.
“I like you the way you are.”
Noah actually had the gall to wink at me. He moved his gaze from my face to my dick, which was growing hard under his stare.
Damn it. Trust my body to betray me at a time like this. I picked my boxers and put them on. I handed Noah his. To my surprise, he put them on without complaining.
“Play along,” Noah said. He slid his arm around my shoulders. “Like I said, let me handle Jordan.”
I distrusted that easy smile. On one hand, it would be tempti
ng to let my brother have a go at him. That wouldn’t be fair, because Noah was right. This was both our mess.
Did that mean a part of me actually wanted to be married to Noah? I flung that thought aside as we marched to the door. I was more hungover than Noah, so I mostly leaned against him.
I started petting Noah’s chest. Why I did that, I didn’t know. Noah raised an eyebrow at me. I was speechless.
Whatever my brother wanted to say, he seemed to have forgotten how to talk. Jordan finally managed to open his mouth.
“What the fuck, man? You married Ryan last night?” Jordan demanded.
He looked from Noah and back to me suspiciously.
“We agreed to marry,” I corrected.
“That’s right. I’m sorry you have to find out about us like this, Jordan,” Noah said.
“You said on your Facebook post that you guys have been dating for months. When did this happen?” Jordan asked.
My brother was causing a scene. A couple of curious bystanders were looking on. I was pretty certain a few heads popped out of their rooms to witness our drama.
I noticed Dave was at the end of the corridor, watching us with interest like a snake. Had Dave and Parker seen our social media accounts?
“It just happened,” Noah said with a shrug.
Jordan gave him a shove.
“I call bullshit,” Jordan said. “This is what’s going to happen. Once we fly back to New York, I’ll call my lawyer. He’ll help you guys annul this wedding.”
My heart sank at those words for some reason. It didn’t help that Dave knew I was looking at him and smirking back at me. I felt like I’ve been suddenly thrust into some soap opera drama.
“What? Why would we do that? We’re in love,” Noah declared.
He brought me close and squeezed my dick through my trousers. I groaned, horrified I was both ashamed and aroused.
“Jesus, don’t ever do that in front of me again,” Jordan said. “And I can see through your lies, Noah. I bet this little charade won’t last even six months.”
“Oh yeah? Then you don’t know a single damn thing, bro. I’ve been in love with him since I was fifteen,” I blurted unthinkingly.
