Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Epilogue
Acknowledgements: Surprise! I wrote a book. I wrote a book during one of the most difficult times of my life. I wrote a happy-sweet thing even when there was a broken heart beating in my chest. I can’t thank my friends and my mom enough for being there for me. A huge shoutout to my coworkers at my dayjob for being unfailingly supportive as well. Thanks go to Laura, for editing this thing and making sure I got it right, and for my Patreon subscribers who are amazing. Thanks to my author friends, especially Magan Vernon, for being incredible and sending me advice and gifs and picking me up when I was really, really down. Lastly, thank YOU for reading this! I hope it gave you a few moments of joy and an escape from the burning planet and the general awfulness of everything. That is my only goal, and if I have succeeded, then writing this book was worth it.
Author bio:
Didn’t Stay in Vegas is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental. | No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. All rights reserved. | Copyright © 2019 Chelsea M. Cameron | Editing by Laura Helseth | Cover by Chelsea M. Cameron
One
I woke up with glitter in my junk. Granted, I also woke up wearing a dress I didn’t remember buying, in a bed I’d never seen before, and with the worst hangover in the history of time. I had to pee as if I’d drunk twelve gallons of liquid and, judging by the intensity of the hangover pounding in my body, I might have had that much in alcoholic beverages.
I groped my way around the too-bright room and found the bathroom, shielding my eyes from the pure white marble and gaudy gold accents. I yanked up the dress to find (with relief) that I was wearing underwear, but then a shower of glitter fell to the white marble floor.
“The fuck?” I said, taking my underwear fully down and folding myself in half to glare at my junk. What was going on down there?
Glitter. Glitter all up in there. Why in the hell did I have glitter on my vulva? I peed and attempted to wipe the glitter off with toilet paper, but it was a lost cause.
Giving up on that, I decided to crawl to the shower and wash when I heard a moan. I guess wasn’t alone in the strange, ostentatious hotel room. I grabbed the closest gold vase and raised it up, preparing to defend myself as I peered around the doorway. Sprawled on a purple velvet couch across from the bed was—
“Emma,” I breathed out, lowering the vase and putting it back on the counter. She let out another moan and then opened her eyes, raising her head slowly and blinking a few times.
“The fuck?” she said, struggling to get into a sitting position. She also wore a sequin-drenched gown that was cut down to her navel in the front. Holy mother of cleavage. One of her boobs was making a break for freedom, so I tried to focus on her face instead. Friends didn’t stare at their friend’s escaping boobs, at least not on purpose.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I just peed glitter.” Emma squinted her green eyes at me and started to laugh, but then groaned and put both hands on her head, her fingers tangling in her dark hair. “That was a bad idea.”
My brain had started to sharpen and remember where we were and why we were here.
“Vegas. We’re in Vegas.”
“No shit,” Emma said, wiping mascara streaks down her face.
“Right, we’re in Vegas for Lara’s bachelorette party. But why are we here? This isn’t the hotel we were staying at. And I do not remember putting this dress on. Or putting glitter on my downstairs,” I said.
Emma finally stood up and she looked like a baby giraffe on new legs. Wobbly and uncertain.
“Now I have to pee, out of the way.” I moved aside and she headed into the bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door. I turned my back and ignored her while she let out sounds of relief as she used the facilities and then washed her hands.
“Fucking hell,” she said, putting a hand on my shoulder, which caused me to jump. “Let’s just order some room service. I need to eat or else I’m going to hurl.”
“Don’t say the word ‘hurl,’” I said, putting my hand on my stomach. It had started rolling a few minutes before and I wanted to make sure it didn’t try to turn itself inside out.
Emma found her way to the hotel phone and pulled out a menu. Flopping down on the bed and holding it in the air, she looked over at me. Her boobs were seriously about to jump out of that dress. I looked at her face.
“What do you want?” I walked slowly to the bed and sat down next to her. She smelled like the cheap perfume they’d have in a vending machine at a bar, not like her. Not like Emma.
“I don’t know,” I said. The words on the menu spun when I tried to read them.
“It’s fine, I know your hangover order,” she said, and dialed the number for room service.
“Hi, yes, we need three of the fried egg and bacon sandwiches, French fries, two biscuits, and two green smoothies . . . Yes . . . Thank you.” I had to fight another round of nausea at the mention of all that food. Hopefully that would change when said food got here.
“I have to get this dress off, Callyn. Be a doll and help me.” Emma turned her back to me, presenting me with the zipper in the back of the dress. My fingers trembled as I tried to grip it and pull it down at the same time.
“Sorry,” I said, my hands slipping on the tiny zipper. I regained my grip and got the zipper down to her waist. Emma pushed the straps off her shoulders and sighed in relief. As far as I could tell, she wasn’t wearing anything under it.
“That’s so much better.” She stood up and shimmied the dress down her hips, leaving it in a sequin puddle on the floor. I couldn’t look as she crossed the room and pulled a thick robe from the back of the bathroom door. Yup, she had been completely naked under the dress. Sure, I’d seen her naked dozens of times before, but it was always weird and I always tried to give her privacy. The alcohol must have lowered her inhibitions, because she wasn’t normally this free with nudity. Neither of us were. Vegas was a whole other place.
Moments later, the room service arrived.
“Hello, my love,” Emma said, sighing happily as she pushed the cart over to the couch. “Don’t you want to take that dress off and get in one of these robes?” She rubbed the material against her cheek. Judging by the state we were currently in, we’d had one hell of a night and she still looked incredible. Sure, she might have a little bit of mascara goop on her eyes, and her hair was a complete and utter disaster, but Emma was gorgeous as hell and always would be.
I went into the bathroom and struggled to dislocate my arm to reach the zipper in the back of my dress before calling out to Emma for help.
“You dork,” she said, coming up behind me and undoing the zipper with little effort. I held the gown to my chest so it didn’t fall. I knew I wasn’t wearing any kind of bra.
“Thanks,” I said, and she handed me a robe. I put it on before sliding the dress off.
“I’ve seen your boobs before,” Emma said. “How many years have we been friends?”
I kicked the dress aside and tied the robe securely, making sure I was covered before I turned around to face her.
“Too many,” I said with a smirk, and she gasped and then hit me in the shoulder
.
“Just for that I’m not giving you any of the extra bacon. It’s all mine now.” She rushed to the cart and snatched the plate of bacon, crouching over it like a dragon with a hoard of gold and hissed.
“My bacon,” she said in a deep, demonic voice, that made the hair on the back of my next stand on end.
“Please don’t use that voice. You know it freaks me out.” I joined her on the couch, reaching instead for a plate with the sandwiches on it. I took a tiny bite, willing my stomach to behave itself. After a few small bites, I was a little more confident that I could keep the food down.
Emma was going to town on the bacon and at last held out one strip to me, like it was a fresh-picked rose.
“Callyn, will you accept this bacon?” she said, using a phrase from a popular reality dating show.
“Yes, I will,” I said, completely serious, reaching out to take the bacon and then shoved it in my mouth. It was just the right amount of crispy and chewy. Shit, I loved room service.
Emma moved on to the sandwiches and I figured I needed something green, so I sucked down a smoothie. A beep startled both of us and we went on a quest to find the source of it only to hear additional beeping across the room. Both of our phones were blowing up.
We’d been so wrapped up in dealing with hangovers and getting food into us that we hadn’t gotten to how the hell we’d made it into this room last night (or this morning), how we’d gotten the gowns, and what had happened to lead up to all of that. I’d tried to think, but my brain screamed in protest every time.
“Oh, crap.”
“What’s up?” I said, tearing through the covers on the bed and sending my phone flying to the floor. I dove for it before it could bounce off the carpet and go under the bed. My clumsy thumbs scrolled through my missed messages.
Oh. Oh shit. Most of them were my friends asking where Emma and I were, and they got increasingly more panicked the later it had gotten. Luckily, we were all in a group text together, so I could respond to everyone at once. Just a second before I hit Send, the reply from Emma popped up.
We’re both fine. In a hotel somewhere, will figure everything out and meet you there soon.
I sent my message agreeing with her and a flood of relieved replies came in asking for all the dirty details.
“I don’t remember the details and I’m pretty sure they weren’t dirty,” I said, as Emma went back to the room service cart and devoured more of the food. “Well, except for the glitter. Do you have any idea why I would have had glitter on my downstairs?” I blushed when I said that for some reason. I’d always been weird about that stuff with her. She might be my best friend, but there were lines I just didn’t cross with Emma.
“I think there was something about a kit where you could jazz it up down there and someone dared you to do it, maybe?” Right. A dare. I was a sucker for dares, which had gotten me into much worse trouble than having glitter on my vulva before.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” I had zero recollection of this event.
Emma gave me a look.
“Have I ever been able to stop you when you put your mind to something?” I opened my mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut.
“Fair enough,” I said with a sigh, flopping down on the couch. The group chat was racing again, and I decided we needed to figure out where the hell we were and how to get back to our friends. I found the notepad with the hotel name and address on it and put it into my phone to figure out how far away we were from our friends’ hotel.
“We’re only a ten-minute walk down the strip,” I said. “How did we even end up here? You seem to have a better memory than me.” That was entirely unfair. I hoped as the day wore on the hangover wore off that my memory would get clearer.
“Can we take a cab? I don’t want to walk. Or maybe we could have someone come and bring us some clothes? I’m not super into the idea of a walk of shame with that getup on.” Yeah, I wasn’t into that idea either. I sent a quick message asking if anyone could meet us with some regular clothes. Nova said she would and I thanked her profusely.
Emma and I finished most of the food and then there was a knock at the door. I rushed to open it, finding Nova grinning on the other side with a bag slung over her arm.
“You two are ridiculous,” she said, breezing in as if she didn’t have a hint of a hangover at all. Her dark brown skin glowed, and I knew that she wasn’t even wearing any makeup. Having a friend so pretty was painful sometimes.
“Yes, but in the best way,” Emma said, reaching for the bag and then heading to the bathroom to change.
“So, what have you two been doing all night?” Nova said after Emma shut the door. Was it my imagination that she said it in a suggestive way? Weird.
“Honestly, I don’t know. But I was wearing a sequined dress and somehow we got here.” I gestured around the room.
“I’m sure it’s going to be a great story when you remember it,” Nova said. Emma came out of the bathroom in a simple white tank and jeans with holes in the knees.
“So much better,” she said, sitting on the couch.
“My turn,” I said, grabbing the bag from her. I dashed to the bathroom and shut the door. I wanted to change, but also to wipe off some more of the glitter if I could. There were some makeup wipes on the counter and I scrubbed as good as I could before slipping on a new pair of undies, jeans, and a tank with a chubby octopus on it. I combed my fingers through my hair, getting my hands stuck on a whole lot of hairspray. I needed a shower more than I needed anything else right now.
Just as I walked back out, there was another knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” Emma asked. Nova shrugged.
“Maybe housekeeping? We should get out of here anyway. I hope it’s not going to cost me too much.” I wasn’t exactly rolling in money right now. This trip had been a splurge already.
Nova went and looked out the peephole.
“Looks like room service or something?” I shared a glance with Emma.
“No idea, since we already ate and put the cart out. I guess open up and see? They probably have the wrong room,” I said. Nova opened the door and had a quick chat with the person outside and then turned around slowly, the door still open.
“Um, so, this is Craig and he’s here to bring a complimentary honeymoon breakfast to the newlyweds.” She said all this with her brown eyes so wide I thought they were going to fall out of her head.
“The what to the who?” I asked, and Emma burst out laughing.
“We must have told them we got married to get free stuff,” Emma whispered at me as Craig wheeled the cart in. This one was draped in gaudy red velvet and included an ice bucket with champagne, chocolate strawberries, and two dishes covered in silver. Oh, and two red roses. Cute.
“Thank you so much, Craig,” Nova said, pulling some cash out of her bag and handing it to him.
“Congratulations,” Craig said, giving us a grin before he departed.
“What did you get up to last night?” Nova said, snatching a strawberry off the tray.
“Still hazy,” I said, joining her and going for a strawberry for myself.
“Let’s enjoy this and then head back. I’m ready to end this weekend right,” Emma said. She got up and stopped.
“What’s that?” she said. I looked down and saw a sheet of paper shoved halfway under the couch. Emma bent down and picked it up. Then her eyes went as wide as Nova’s had been when she’d opened the door.
“What is it?” I asked, setting down a third strawberry. Emma’s face had gone paler than I’d ever seen it before, so something on that paper had given her a shock. Her hand shook as she held it out to me without a word. I only needed to read the top scrolling words and see the seal, as well as our signatures to realize why she was flipping out.
“You two look like someone died, what the hell?” Nova asked, abandoning the cart.
“Nope. No one’s dead. We’re just a little bit married.”
Two
/> “You’re fucking kidding me,” Nova said, as Emma and I stared at the certificate of our marriage. My signature was a little messy, but it was definitely mine. We also found a little bag of gifts from the wedding chapel we’d gone to (which was right behind the hotel), including two cheap rings that looked as if they’d been pulled out of a vending machine.
“Maybe it’s a joke certificate?” Nova questioned. “I mean, I'm sure they print those, right?”
“Looks pretty real to me,” I said.
“Yup, it’s real all right,” Emma said, holding her phone up. She had the website of the chapel up on her phone and there we were, holding each other like we were at a high school prom and laughing our asses off.
“I mean, you’re impulsive, but this is next level, Callyn, Jesus,” Emma said, pacing the living room area, one hand tangling through her hair.
“Um, excuse me? Why is this my fault? I don’t remember what the fuck happened, how do you know it was my idea?” I threw my hands up and sat on the couch. How had this happened? Why couldn’t I remember anything? This couldn’t have been my idea. Most of my impulses were to do things like order pizza at three in the morning, or go drive up a mountain and watch the sun rise. Not marriage. Nothing like that.
“Well, it wasn’t my idea,” Emma said, pivoting to face me.
“It was someone’s idea, because you’ve got this shiny certificate here,” Nova said, waving the paper in the air. She had a look on her face as if she wanted to laugh, but was holding back. Right now, this didn’t seem all that funny. Maybe in a few hours it would. Right now, all I could feel was shock and panic.
“Look, it’s no big deal, I’m sure this happens all the time. You can just get it annulled,” Nova said. “I’m sure it’s a simple process. Come on, let’s go end this weekend right.” I looked at Emma and sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. Nova rolled up the certificate and handed it to me.
“Fine,” Emma said, getting up. “I guess we’ll figure it out later.”
“I thought I was going to go home with a sunburn and maybe some extra cash from the casinos. But no, I’m coming home with a wife.” Emma gave me a look.
Didn't Stay in Vegas Page 1
