Sinful Ever After (Romance Collection)
Page 27
When I look at her again, she is staring at her hands that she’s placed on the table, spread wide.
“You are pretty annoying,” I say at last.
Cate looks at me, scrunching up her nose. “You think I’m annoying? You’re annoying. You’re so bossy and domineering and… stuff.” She hiccups.
“Well, at least that’s settled.” I huff a sour laugh.
“What?”
“That we are enemies. I know you’re drunk but please keep up with the flow of conversation, Cate.”
She glares at me. Luckily I’m saved from whatever shitty comeback she has by the arrival of the rest of our party, breathless and drunk. Owen and Bradford slide in on my left, Luna and Harper get in on Cate’s right. Owen is red-faced and sweaty, but he doesn’t seem as drunk as everyone else.
“Scoot over!” Luna says, bumping Cate’s hip with her own. “Luca and Cate, you two can stand each other for a weekend, right?”
Cate and I move closer together, but both of us are staring daggers at Luna. Luna doesn’t seem to notice. She’s still glowing with post-dancing energy. Cate and I end up almost touching, with barely an inch between us. Bradford puts a stack of crinkled napkins on the table, looking proud of himself.
Owen picks one up, reading aloud from the note scrawled on it. “You’re cute af. Call me. Dan.”
Bradford grins. The second he opens his mouth, a thick Southern twang pours out. His accent always gets more pronounced when he’s a little drunk. “It’s not a surprise that Vegas is great for meeting hot guys. It is a surprise that I got a dozen phone numbers in the hour and half we’ve been here though.” He pats himself on the back. “Well done, Bradford. Your hotness has been noted.”
Owen nods, giving Bradford a drunken one over. “If I liked guys, I would probably want to suck your dick.”
“Thanks.” Bradford laughs. “We’ve had this conversation before.” He pats Owen’s arm. “I also got a girl’s number. She was drunk as a skunk but very nice.” He sorts through the pile of napkins. “Lisa. I couldn’t even tell her that she’s barking up the wrong tree.”
A waitress approaches with a bottle of alcohol and a tray of shot glasses. “Hey guys! Who ordered the tequila?”
Luna shoots up her hand. “I did!!”
I give Luna a discouraging glance. “Oh, you really didn’t have to do that…”
The waitress deposits the bottle and six shot glasses brimming with tequila on the table. Then she places a little plate with salt and limes on it in front of each of us. “I’ll be back soon to refresh your limes, okay?”
I nod to the waitress, who gives me a meaningful wink. She hands us napkins and then walks away, short skirt swishing. I turn mine over and find her number printed neatly on it. I glance up at her, a smile on my lips.
“Hey! Pay attention!” Luna gives me a mischievous grin and picks up her shot. “It’s almost midnight. That means that it’s almost my birthday. Which means that if I tell you to drink, you drink!”
Then without preamble she shoots the tequila. Shaking my head a little, I shoot the tequila, eschewing the salt but biting into a lime wedge afterward. As soon as I put my glass down, Bradford is already refilling it.
“Here’s to Luna’s birthday,” Owen says, raising his glass. He hiccups. Now I can tell that he’s drunk. “And here’s to not being tied to Madisyn for the rest of your life, Luca! I can’t tell you how glad I am not to have to hang out with her every time I want to see you.”
Just the sound of her name on my best friend’s lips sends a little shiver of displeasure down my spine. Madisyn dumped me as publicly as possible, citing irreconcilable differences. She’s the last thing I want to talk about right now.
So I shoot the tequila, wincing at the afterburn. I start feeling the effects of the first shot, the heavy, numbing sensation overlaid with a thick layer of dreamy smog. I find myself chuckling though I don’t know what I’m laughing at, per se.
Harper clears her throat, rising up from her seat halfway and lifting her shot glass. “We are some of the hottest people here. Honestly, the fact that—” She pauses, giggling. “The fact that none of us have never slept together is amazing.”
Luna’s eyes light up. “Good point. Oooh! Let’s play never have I ever!”
Cate shifts in her seat, uncomfortable. “What are the rules, exactly?”
Bradford leans in towards the center of the table. “Drink if… you have ever thought about how hot someone else in this circle is.” He eyes Owen. “I know that you have to drink, because earlier you said I was a good-looking man.”
Owen grins. “Fair enough. I might have had a shit ton of whiskey first, but I meant it honestly.”
Bradford grins. “Well, I think everyone is hot.”
He tips his shot glass back. Everyone else does a shot, everyone but me. Bradford slides me a look. “What are you doing?”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Not taking a shot.”
He pulls a face. “Seriously? Don’t make me call you out.”
Confused, I give him a look. “On what?”
Owen leans closer to me, his eyes sparkling. “Two years ago, we got drunk and rated the fuckability of everybody we know. You gave Cate here an eight out of ten, with the caveat that if the apocalypse happened, she would become a nine and a half.”
Cate’s face goes red and she looks paralyzed. I can feel my own cheeks begin to heat. I glare at Owen. “That never happened,” I growl.
“Yes it did! I heard it too,” Bradford interjects. Both of my friends are against me, which is unfair. I barely remember that conversation and I definitely don’t remember saying that Cate was hot.
“Seriously? She’s too fucking annoying to be hot! And she dresses like an old lady!” I protest.
Cate looks like she wants to slide under the table and disappear. She puts her hands in front of her face like a shield. “Please kill me.”
Luna looks downright gleeful. “Drink! You know what? Both of you, drink! It’s my birthday and I say so.”
Begrudgingly I pick up my shot glass and toss back the tequila inside. I can feel the edges of my vision starting to go black.
The last thing I remember thinking is something Cate said.
I think I’m really going to regret this tomorrow.
Yep, she’s completely right… and I definitely am.
Chapter Three
Cate
Before I even open my eyes, I’m aware of how thirsty I am. My mouth is open, my head pointed down. I’m not somewhere comfortable.
Then I shift my position with a groan, fluttering my eyelids open. It all hits me at once: the light is unbearably bright. The noise of a vacuum in the distance is so loud that I could cry. And when I shift again, I feel nauseated to my very core.
Staying still, I try to assess where exactly I am without moving. I’m on the floor, I think. There is a bed beside me on one side and the doorway to a bathroom on the other.
Vegas.
I’m in Las Vegas.
I close my eyes and breathe, every breath seeming painful and labored.
What in the hell did I drink last night?
But as soon as I wonder that, memories come flying at me. We drank all the shots of tequila, even though it was basically the most vile substance known to man. Then we left the club and went to another bar, where… I’m not sure, but I remember drinking something that tasted like a liquid gummy bear.
Then my memory gets faulty. I only have flashes of what happened. I groan as I try to remember; even the flashes inside my head are loud, somehow.
I’ve got to get water. In order to do that, I’m going to have to actually get up off the floor. Breathing in and out for a second, I steady myself.
“One… two… three…” I launch myself up, staggering to my feet. Looking down at my lacy bra and panties, I frown. Where is the huge billowy nightshirt that Luna always teases me for wearing to bed?
I wasn’t concerned with being comfortable last night, I g
uess.
It looks like I rolled off my bed and onto the floor at some point… My eyes widen and my heart stutters in my chest when I turn to face the bed.
There, spread out in all his naked glory, is a sleeping Luca. He’s sleeping on his side, his rear end on display. I didn’t… I wouldn’t have slept with him, would I?
The fact that I’m still in my bra and panties suggests that I didn’t. I glance back to Luca.
I take a nice long look, bring my lower lip. The long lean line of his back and his unclothed rear are certainly a sight worth viewing. If I was seduced last night, it would be the second time I ever…
I blush. The fact that I can’t even say the word in my head is another sign that I didn’t get too handsy with Luca. At least his… business is covered. I wouldn’t want someone staring at me when I was in that state, though.
Tiptoeing around the bed, I grab a blanket that’s been tossed on the floor and cover him up with it. He stirs for a moment, his brow crinkling critically. Then he murmurs something that sounds a lot like, “thanks, sugar”.
Ugh. My face wrinkles.
My head pounds, reminding me of why I got up in the first place. I feel so dehydrated at this moment that I don’t know that I could even form a sentence. My tongue is too large and too dry in my mouth, and that’s the first and last time I want to think that to myself, ever.
When I pad to the bathroom, I turn the tap on and stick my head under. Cool water gushes across my tongue, a relief so acute that it brings actual tears to my eyes. I stay there for a minute, gulping down water, standing on the cool tiles of the bathroom. It’s dark in here at least, a nice reprieve from the bright sunlight streaming in through the giant picture window.
Finally I have my fill. Reaching up to turn off the tap, I pause.
There, on the fourth finger of my left hand, is a gigantic ring. Not an expensive one, either. It’s solid light pink plastic with a sort of waffle pattern all over. I pry it off with a great deal of effort; I guess that I was less puffy when I slid it onto my finger.
“Holy fuck!”
Looking behind me, I can only guess that Luca is awake. I flush when I realize that I’m still in nothing but my bra and panties. My urge to get water into my body was overwhelming, I guess.
Sticking my head out of the bathroom, I squint into the brightness of the bedroom. Luca is sitting facing away from me, his head drooping low. I clear my throat.
“Do you think you could hand me… umm… a robe? Or a sheet?”
He turns around, a piece of paper in his hand. He glares. “You.”
Paling, I lick my chapped lips. I’m thirsty again. “What?”
“This was your idea, I bet,” he mutters. “Fucking religious people.”
My eyebrows rise. “I’m sorry?”
He shoots me the filthiest look. “You’d better be.”
“No, I mean…” I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”
Luca stands up, naked as a jaybird. I raise a hand to block out his lower half from my sight, protesting. “Luca! Come on. Put on some clothes!”
He doesn’t seem too worried about it because he stalks right over to me, shoving the paper under my nose. Swallowing hard, I read the title.
State of Nevada. Marriage Certificate. And below that, it clearly says Luca Leone and Catherine De Rose.
My eyes widen. My pulse speeds up. I look up to Luca, my eyes pleading.
“No.” It’s all I can think of to say. “I…”
He folds his arms across his chest. “Yes. According to this, we got married last night.”
My eyes slip down to his… junk… which looks to be at full attention. Then my eyes bounce between his member and my semi-nude body. “We didn’t… we couldn’t have…?”
“Yeah, you wish,” Luca growls. “We didn’t fuck, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He runs his hand down, cupping his erection. I rip my eyes away and put my hand in front of my face. I didn’t think I could get any pinker, but I feel like my cheeks are glowing now.
“Do you mind?” I ask, exasperated. “I can’t talk to you like this.”
“Fine,” he snaps. I hear him rustling around for half a minute, then the sound of jeans being zipped up. “You can stop hiding your face.”
Even though I heard him put jeans on, I peek through my fingers. He’s still shirtless, but at least I can talk to him now. He glares at me and grabs my hands. “Act like an adult for once in your life. This isn’t like showing up late at your crappy little kid job, okay? This is serious.”
My brow draws down. “My job isn’t for little kids.”
He gives me an angry look, as if he already knows everything he could possibly want to know. It makes me feel small. “Making coffee? You do the same job as when you were in college. Let’s not pretend that you don’t.”
My mouth opens and closes a few times as I gawp up at him. “That’s… that’s none of your business!”
I yank my hands out of his. He lets me go, eyeing me like I’m a time bomb ready to go off at any moment. “It’s is while we’re married. Which is why we need to get unmarried, quick.”
“Are you saying that we have to get divorced?” I go still, my heart beating loudly in my ears. “You know that Catholics don’t believe in that. I… I can’t get divorced.”
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that will be necessary, princess. We’ll probably qualify for an annulment.” Luca reaches down for a t-shirt, pulling it on over his head. “Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t believe we’re even in this situation.”
“An annulment?” I echo. “Like it never happened?”
He looks distracted. “Cate, get dressed. I want to go see if anybody remembers where we got married. Maybe they haven’t filed that paperwork yet. Since I feel like you won’t do anything on your own, you had better come with me.”
I scrunch my face up. “Why do I have to come with you? I want to take a shower and drink a hundred coconut waters.”
Luca finds a black hoodie, pulling it on. “Because, princess. The Jagermiester shots were your idea…”
The word Jagermiester makes me suddenly nauseated. I get a flash of pouring brown liquid from a green bottle into Luca’s mouth as he laughs. Something about the way the Jager shines in my flashback makes my stomach curdle.
Oh gosh.
I’m going to throw up, there is no question about it.
Two seconds later, I clap my hands over my mouth and launch myself toward the bathroom. I almost make it to the toilet but not quite, puking all over my hands. The sound of wet splattering all over the porcelain makes me heave again.
Getting to my knees, I pop the lid of toilet up and vomit for several minutes. I’m losing all the water I just drank and then some but there is no helping it.
When I finally wipe my chin and drag myself up, I turn to find Luca waiting just outside the bathroom door. I feel completely out of sorts and no small amount of self-pity. There is an impatient expression on his face.
He hands me a towel, his voice brusque. “Wash your face and brush your teeth. When you come out of the bathroom, there will be a glass of water and a couple of aspirin waiting for you. I’ll be outside, trying to sort this fucking mess out.”
He whirls and stalks away, letting me know that by this fucking mess he means me.
Great.
This is what I get for trying to let go of my strict upbringing. Go to Las Vegas one single time, come back married to a man who swears like a sailor. I pray that he’s right, that whatever chapel we were at still has the paperwork.
I mean, things like this have got to happen all the time, right? People that are diametrically opposite in every way — to the point of being actual enemies — they slip up and accidentally get married every day.
…don’t they?
It takes me a few minutes to brush my teeth, wash my face, get dressed in my dress from last night, and take the aspirin that Luca left out for me. I find my purse, which luckil
y seems to be completely intact. When I open Luca’s bedroom door, I sneak out into a living room exactly like the one I saw in my own suite.
This room is at least twice as bright as the bedroom was. Shading my eyes against the invasive sun, I manage to steal out of Luca’s suite unnoticed. Creeping down the hall, I realize that I don’t have my keycard.
So much for being stealthy. I knock on the door, dreading talking to Luna and Harper about where I have been. The fact that I married Luna’s big brother but slept on the floor of his bedroom rather than share a bed with a man… that is so me.
The door opens to reveal a very sleepy Luna. “Oh. It’s you.”
Without another word, she opens the door all the way and turns around, heading for the kitchen. I slip in, closing the door behind me. “Did I wake you?”
My head pounds. Luna is already scrounging around the kitchen. “Where is the freaking coffee?”
“Sit down,” I command, although my grasp of the situation is somewhat more tenuous than my voice lets on. “I’ll make the coffee, okay?”
Identifying the coffee maker and finding the filters and the grounds, I start measuring things out. Luna leans against the kitchen counter, eyeing me. “My brother has already been here.”
I freeze at that, the coffee measuring scoop hovering over the filtration basket. My face grows hot. “Oh.”
Luna sighs. “He looked pretty pissed. He was raving about you and how you shouldn’t sign contracts when you’re drunk.” She winces. “I’ll admit to not fully paying attention. I had the same kind of night that you guys had.”
I pause, the empty coffee scoop still in my hand. “What happened, exactly?”
She sighs. “I didn’t get his name, but I spent the night with this unbelievably dreamy guy. He rocked my world… and then left before I got his name.” She rubs her temple, looking at me through bloodshot eyes.
“Wait, a super hot guy left before you could slip out first?” I say, trying to piece it together.