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“Barrett—”
We silenced as there was a knock on the door.
Heart plummeting to the pit of my stomach, I looked at the entrance in horror. We were screwed. “That’s Hale. You have to hide.”
His nostrils flared. “No.”
“Barrett, please.” After everything else, I wasn’t sure Hale and I could survive one more calamity. “If he finds you here?—”
“Let him.”
“I know you want to punish me right now, but in my defense, I don’t remember anything from last night.” Shit. What if we actually did more than cut his hair? “Your brother gets really jealous, and everything’s supposed to be perfect for the wedding. Please don’t mess this up any more than it already is. If not for me, for Hale.”
“Rayne?” Hale knocked again and the tension in my chest tightened as I held my breath waiting for Barrett to give in.
“Please. I’ll do anything. A permanent favor for the rest of your life.”
He growled and shoved away. “Fine. I’ll hide in the shower. You have thirty seconds to get out of here.”
As soon as he disappeared into the bathroom, I grabbed my dress, shaking off any dick cooties that might have contaminated the fabric, and quickly slid it up my legs.
Hale knocked again. “Rayne?”
“One sec!”
I was operating with a blood-alcohol level well over the legal limit and my motor skills were massively off balance. Tossing the Word To Your Muggle shirt into the corner, I grabbed my ruined shoes.
“Ah, ah, ah…” I whimpered, failing to force my swollen feet into the now deformed fit.
I should have talked him into eloping. Then none of this would have happened. Having a big, traditional wedding was way above my grade level. I only agreed because I wanted to make Hale happy and prove I could play the role of the refined bride, suitable for a flawless, dreamboat of a groom.
Boy was that a mistake. Hale was perfect in every way and I was a walking disaster. The GOAT of hot fucking messes.
“Rayne, open the door.”
I should have never let him convince me that I could handle this much pressure. This wedding was going to be our undoing.
Shoving my panic down, I leaned into the bathroom and hissed at the closed shower curtain that hid Barrett, “If you find any of my stuff, bring it back to The Plaza. Don’t make a sound until we’re gone.” I pulled the bathroom door shut before he could answer.
Forcing a smile big enough to cinch my skull around my throbbing brain, I opened the door. “Hale. What took you so long?”
His grin dropped to a frown and his gaze darted over my shoulder.
I quickly stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut, my shoes clutched to my chest.
His hand shot out, catching the door before it could lock. “Hold on.”
“Um, I’m really hungry…”
He pushed into the hotel room and scowled at the disaster. Bottles littered the floor and a pizza box hung open on the dresser, nothing but a cemetery of half-gnawed crust and bottle caps scattered inside. It was a lot of mess for one woman to make.
He glanced at the unmade bed and bent down to retrieve one very large male shoe. “And this belongs to…?”
I deflated. There was no use. “Please don’t be mad.”
“Why would I be mad, Rayne?” At first, I thought he might actually stay calm. Then I registered his loosely masked fury. “I find my fiancée in a hotel room on the other end of New York, a bed that stinks of God knows what, sheets a mess, your hair looking as though you’ve been fucked hard, and a dead man’s shoe on the floor.”
“It’s not what you think.”
