What Happened in Vegas

by Gwen Martin

  What Happened in Vegas

  A Fake Relationship and Accidental Marriage Romance

  Gwen Martin

  Copyright © 2019 by Gwen Martin

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at this website:

  www.gwenmartinauthor.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, companies, locales, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Editors: Mara Townsend // LesCourt

  Chapter Art: flaticon.com

  Contents

  About the Book

  Prologue

  1. Four Weeks Prior

  2. Luke

  3. Jesse

  4. Luke

  5. Jesse

  6. Luke

  7. Jesse

  8. Luke

  9. Jesse

  10. Luke

  11. Jesse

  12. Luke

  Epilogue

  The End

  Newsletter

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Gwen Martin

  About the Book

  A fake relationship and accidental Holy Matrimony.

  Jesse Montgomery’s Instagram famous ex-fiancee has invited him to her wedding in Vegas because it’s “good for business”, Jesse has to think fast. After many failed attempts at trying to find a date, he asks his best friend Luke to see if he can be his date and pretend boyfriend. Jesse will need to keep the real reason his relationship failed a secret, especially from Luke.

  Luke Turner has known Jesse since they were kids. Jesse is his best friend...and the person Luke has held in his heart for as long as he can remember. Will he be able to play the perfect fake boyfriend without risking a broken heart?

  When Jesse and Luke wake up after a night of pre-wedding celebrations and find that they are married, everything changes. Will they be able to survive the wedding and their feelings for one another?

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  Prologue

  Jesse

  Jesse startles awake to an acidic taste of leftover gin and some sugary shot he took before allowing his body to fall and land on the bed below him. Bright fluorescent lights from the Strip flash in a staccato rhythm, glittering through a small patch where the blackout curtains didn’t close all the way. Jesse sighs.

  He’s in Vegas. Which means Sheila’s wedding hasn’t happened yet. Which means...

  “Oh shit,” Jesse groans, his hands covering his face. It doesn’t help assuage the roiling in his stomach, whether it’s from exorbitant amount of alcohol he consumed the night before, or the realization he’s married his best friend in a last minute drunken idea. Because he’s supposed to be dating his best friend.

  “Oh my god,” Jesse says louder to the hotel room at large. The bed shifts next to him, and he twists to see a body burritoed in a tangle of white blankets and sheets. There’s a messy mop of auburn hair peeking out from the top.

  Luke emerges from his blanketed slumber and starts rubbing at his eyes. He blinks up at the ceiling and Jesse cannot stop the hammering of his heart. Maybe he should throw up. This cannot be real. Last night didn’t happen; it’s just some fucked up, crazy-ass dream and if he thinks hard enough, he can pull himself out of it.

  Then Luke turns, that lopsided smile that always makes Jesse’s stomach do that weird twisting thing that has never happened with anyone else.

  “Morning, hubby.”

  Well, shit.

  One

  Four Weeks Prior

  Jesse grits his teeth as Luke crumples to the floor in the middle of his laughing fit, catching a shimmer of tears collecting in the corner of his eyes.

  “I’m serious, dude,” Jesse says. He sucks in a deep breath, expanding it through his stomach like that yoga instructor explained during a random retreat Jesse took with Sheila right before they broke up. He didn’t want to go, he hated yoga, but it was a last ditch effort to help save what he could of their failing relationship.

  Jesse was such a fool. Yoga? Seriously? Nonetheless, he channels what Yogi Loren had said with the mountains as their backdrop, the cool breeze as their anchor.

  Luke lets loose another laugh, and Jesse opens his eyes.

  “You’re such a prick,” Jesse snaps, letting go of all his internal zen. “Forget I even asked.”

  “Oh no,” Luke wheezes, pulling himself back onto the couch and wiping at his eyes. “I will never forget the moment you asked me to pretend to be your boyfriend so you can one-up your ex-fiancée at her wedding. Have you no heart?”

  Jesse gives Luke a withering stare. “That’s unfair, bro.”

  Luke shakes his head, the redness in his face fading, leaving a light pink blush on his cheekbones. He sighs as though he’s exerted himself from one of his long runs he takes in the early morning. Jesse never understood Luke’s obsession with running—he’s always doing some kind of 5K or a marathon or something that’s about times, and medals and running groups—but right now he needs his best friend to understand how dire the situation has become.

  “I’ve been on a dozen dates trying to find someone to take to Sheila’s wedding. No one has worked out. This is Sheila will never accept how Luke, like, my last resort.”

  “So you’re asking me to be your fake boyfriend for this wedding because out of all the struggling actors in LA, you couldn’t convince anyone to join in on this charade?”

  Jesse sighs, lifting his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  What he doesn’t tell Luke is how a year and a half ago in the final fight with Sheila that resulted in their breakup, her eyes brimming with tears she hissed, “Stop lying to yourself, Jesse. You’re in love with him and it’s obvious.” Jesse had denied it, insisted that he wanted to be with her not his best friend, because the accusation was beyond ridiculous. He had known Luke since they were just out of potty training, and while they had been together through everything, he wasn’t in love with him.

  Sheila's consuming jealousy of Jesse’s friendship with Luke blinded her to see how he the first person Jesse told when he had his first kiss with a girl in fifth grade. How he was there when Jesse had his first kiss with a boy in eighth grade and how that boy ignored him for the rest of the school year. How Luke punched a guy in the face in high school for calling Jesse a homophobic slur, even though at the time Jesse had been dating a girl named Emily for almost a year.

  Sheila just didn’t understand, Jesse argued. They broke up a week later.

  “I know this is ridiculous, but Sheila--”

  “This isn’t about having a date. You’re jealous that she found someone else,” Luke states, his hazel eyes penetrating and serious. It’s almost too much to handle when he gets solemn like this. Jesse’s stomach does a swan dive so fast he has to sit down.

  “I knew asking you was a mistake,” Jesse grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is stupid.”

  “Yes, it is stupid. The whole thing is stupid. Why do you need to have a date, anyway?”

  Jesse almost balks at answering, but realizes if Luke will com
mit to the cause, honesty is the only way to go. “Because Sheila thinks it’ll help our fans to realize we are both moving on and that the question about us having a fraught relationship will go away.”

  The speculation of their breakup made the rounds on the internet soon enough. Months of questioning from bloggers and other social media sites, to then be hit with the question of possible infidelity. It was exhausting, and honestly, Jesse was sick of hearing about the latest theories of his mortality.

  Luke tilts his head back and cackles all over again, his hand resting on his stomach. For a moment, Jesse concerns himself with Luke’s health and safety. He’d hazard a guess that laughing this much isn’t good for the human body. How is he still sitting up with all that air he’s gasping for between wheezes?

  “Oh my god, of course,” Luke gasps. “It’s always about those Instagram followers you two have. Must never forget your second-hand fame from your ex.”

  Jesse resists rolling his eyes. Luke always gives him shit about the fact that Sheila’s makeup artist empire skyrocketed right after they started dating, and as a result, Jesse's notability went up, too. The whole rise to fame via social media was disconcerting at first, but it also helped Jesse’s music career, helped him get into producing and working with artists and as a result it provided an opportunity to promote his business and even land a few gigs where he got to work with indie musicians.

  “Can we skip the bullshit about the fans and get to the important part where you tell me if you will do this or not?”

  Luke sighs, tilting his head to the ceiling. His cheeks are still pink from laughing, his auburn hair splayed on the couch cushions, curling around the nape of his neck. His hair looks brighter against the black tank top he’s wearing, and Jesse turns his gaze to focus on an empty vase sitting on the coffee table. He used to buy Sheila flowers all the time in a vase just like that when they lived together. Before he moved into Luke’s apartment because they broke up.

  “Fine,” Luke says, snapping Jesse out of his thoughts, his eyebrows wrinkled with an expression that has morphed from humor to resigned. “I’ll do it.”

  Jesse swallows hard, trying to ignore the tingle of excitement that thrums through him. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Luke answers. He lifts a finger. “But under one condition.” He pauses for a second, a sly smile creeping across his face.

  “What’s that?” Jesse whispers.

  “I get to wear the flamingo tie that Sheila hates. Just for funsies.”

  Jesse laughs and says, “It’s a deal.”

  The call comes two days after Jesse RSVP’s for Sheila's wedding. He groans when he sees her name flash across the screen and takes a fortifying breath before he answers.

  “Hey, Shelly, what’s up?”

  “Jesse, what the fuck is going on?”

  Jesse closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Bringing a date to your wedding?”

  “You’re bringing Luke,” Sheila answers in a flat tone. “As your date.”

  “Yes?”

  “Jesse,” Sheila says, this time her voice growing softer. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing is going on,” Jesse says. “We agreed it would be best for business if I showed up at your wedding with a date, and that’s what I’m doing.”

  “I meant an actual date, Jesse, not your best friend you’re in serious denial abou—”

  “Don’t,” Jesse says with warning. “I held up my end of the deal. If you don’t like who I’m bringing as a date, I won’t attend.”

  The silence hangs long enough that Jesse checks the phone to make sure they’re still connected. When Sheila speaks, her voice sounds weary and sad. “This will not end well. You know that, right?”

  Jesse clenches his jaw until it hurts. “I don’t recall asking you for your opinion.”

  Sheila heaves a defeated sigh. “I’m not trying to argue with you. I’m just looking out for you.”

  “And I didn’t ask you to do that!” Jesse explodes, heat rising in his face. “I didn’t ask you to break off our engagement, I didn’t ask to move out, I didn’t ask you to invite me to your goddamn wedding! So if you want me to show up, I’m bringing Luke. Tell your photographers to get ready.”

  Jesse hangs up the phone before Sheila can answer. His chest tightens, and his eyes sting as he rubs a hand over his face. He has to be at the studio in an hour, and he doesn’t have time to get maudlin over his ex being judgmental.

  He goes to the studio early and ends up banging out the start of a new song that’s been swirling around in his head for the last few days. The melody is there, but the lyrics are still absent. Jesse can almost see them when he’s on his way to sleep, words dancing on the back of his eyelids. He knows the secret to success with music is to force nothing, so he’ll just have to wait to see what the muse brings.

  The musician career, as glamorous as Sheila had always made it seem on her YouTube tutorials and Instagram was really anything but. Jesse worked for years as a studio musician, standing in for random bands without any credit due to him on a major label before he took a chance and branched off to an indie one he had heard about through the network. It was through that he met Aiden, a producer-musician who helped guide Jesse to the label they work at now. It’s there that he began producing, and while the lines blur a lot more in an indie environment than at a major label, Jesse finally feels like he’s found his place.

  Aiden shows up right on time, raising a curious eyebrow when he catches Jesse plucking at his guitar absently. He walks into the recording studio, handing him a coffee in a to-go cup.

  “How long have you been here?” Aiden asks, shifting his weight so that his hip juts out. The band tee he’s wearing fits snug against his chest, a small bit of it bunched up to reveal the work of a dragon tattoo on his tanned hip. It reminds Jesse of the moment he dragged his tongue across that exact tattoo during a short affair he had with Aiden a few months back, and he focuses on his guitar instead.

  Not that Aiden wasn’t a great lover. He understood Jesse in a way that few did, and they both believed in music so intensely that it showed when they were together. But the passion waned, and it didn’t work out, because all of Jesse’s relationships never worked out after Sheila.

  “Not long,” Jesse hedges. Aiden narrows his eyes and Jesse sighs. “‘Bout an hour or so.”

  “Who pissed you off?”

  Aiden knows that if Jesse shows up to the studio early it means he’s angry about something. Some of Jesse’s best work has been born from the emotional aftermath of a fight.

  “Sheila,” Jesse admits, setting the guitar onto the stand. “She does not approve of my choice of date for her wedding.”

  “Ah,” Aiden says, pursing his lips. “Still trying to micromanage you even after you broke up, eh?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Tell me again why you’re indulging her in this little charade?”

  “Because I am a masochist who is trying his damndest to make nice with my ex?” Jesse offers. Aiden’s smile remains sympathetic. “She thinks it’s best for the brand, and I can’t say I disagree.”

  “You guys always handled your relationship like a business deal,” Aiden muses, following Jesse to the control room. Jesse settles down in front of the mix board, playing with the dials to set up for their appointment. “The way you would plan everything around how it would affect your ‘brand’ as you call it was strange.”

  “Thanks,” Jesse replies in a dry tone.

  It’s not the first time he’s heard that about his relationship with Sheila. In fact, Luke said the same exact thing when Jesse ended up at his apartment after Sheila didn’t stop him when he packed a bag of clothes and toiletries and storm out into the rainy night. She just watched Jesse go, and he didn’t care about how the tires of his car screeched out of the driveway and into the dark of the night.

  He’s told no one about that.

  The band they’re working with today is a group of guys who
are no older than twenty-one. They’ve got a good sound and Jesse can see success for them on the horizon. He focuses on that.

  “Let’s get to work, okay?”

  Aiden studies Jesse for a long time before nodding his head. “Whatever you say, boss.”

  Jesse manages to get through the session without any major hiccups. In the end everyone takes several photos together and posting it on Instagram like a bad habit. Even if Sheila helped put him where he is now, Jesse’s worked hard to maintain his status because it is helpful for business, and he doesn’t want to fade from the memory of what was without Sheila. Deep down, Jesse just wants to be able to stay afloat on his own.

  Two

  Luke

  Annelise’s fork crashes with a clatter against her plate the moment Luke shares the news. Her eyes grow comically wide, her mouth gaping open. On a normal day, Luke would make fun of her expressive face, but at the moment he’s trying to calm the sudden rise of bile in the back of his throat.

  “Come again? You’ve agreed to what?”

  Luke lifts a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I’m doing him a favor.”

  Annelise rests her palms on the table. They’re sitting at their favorite lunch spot, a hole in the wall Mexican joint with outdoor-only seating. Even with the faded umbrella blocking the heat of the sun and the cool breeze circling around their legs, Luke’s neck beads with sweat.