Page 32 of Bound To Be Mine

I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up everything I’d apparently consumed last night. Which, judging by the taste, was a lot of alcohol and very little food. Whiskey. Tequila. Gross.

I heard Dash’s voice from the other room. “Yeah, he’s awake. Sort of. He’s currently communing with the porcelain god.”

Who the hell was he talking to?

I flushed, rinsed my mouth, and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like death. My hair was a disaster. There were dark circles under my bloodshot eyes.

And there was a wedding ring on my finger.

I brushed my teeth with shaking hands, trying to piece together the night. Nothing. Just blank spaces where memories should be. After the wedding reception, it was all a blur.

I walked back into the main room of my suite. Dash was on his phone, scrolling through something.

Then Sebastian walked in without knocking, holding a bunch of balloons and a wrapped present. The silver balloons said “Congratulations!” in metallic letters.

“I can’t believe you got married before me and Bernadette,” Sebastian said, shaking his head. “She’s not happy about that, let me tell you. But congrats anyway.” He thrust the present at me. “Here’s a toaster.”

I took the box automatically. “A toaster.”

“Every married couple needs a good toaster.” He shrugged. “It’s a nice one. It does bagels.”

“I’m not married. And I already have a toaster.”

“Tell that to TMZ,” Dash said, turning his phone around to show me the screen.

There I was, in full color, standing in what looked like a wedding chapel. And next to me, wearing her pink dress from the reception, was Mandy.

We were both smiling. I had my arm around her waist. She was holding a bouquet of flowers that looked suspiciously like they’d been grabbed from one of the centerpieces at the reception.

“Oh fuck,” I breathed.

“Yeah.” Dash pocketed his phone. “Fuck is right. Adrian wants to talk to you by the way. He’s calling in a minute.”

As if on cue, Dash’s phone rang. He answered it and propped it up on the desk so we could all see the screen.

Adrian’s face appeared. He did not look happy. He was holding baby Bucky, who was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware that his uncle had just fucked up royally.

“Briggs,” Adrian said, his voice deadly calm. “Want to explain to me why I’m seeing photos of you getting married to the woman we’re trying to bring into a business partnership?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It’s the first I’m hearing of it.”

“You don’t know,” Adrian repeated.

“I don’t remember.”

His mouth dropped open. I could tell he wanted to shout but he kept his voice low so he didn’t wake the kid. “You don’t remember getting married?”

“No,” I said. The word tasted bitter.

Sebastian snorted with laughter. Dash was trying not to smile.

“Get him cleaned up,” Adrian told them. “We need to get on top of this.”

“I need toast,” I said. “Maybe pancakes.”

“Shower,” Sebastian said. “You stink. Bad. And brush your teeth.”

“I already did,” I said.