Page 56 of About That Rule

CHAPTER22

THERE WAS Acertain smell to Las Vegas. The best way for Nate to describe it was a mix of alcohol, bad decisions, and whole bunch of what the fuck. It was all he thought about as he stood on the sidewalk of the main drag and pulled his overnight bag out of the taxi trunk. After he checked in, he waited at the bar in the Cosmopolitan, where he and Samantha had agreed to stay. Not that a stay over was even needed, but he’d booked a room either way.

Their appointment with the judge was just four hours away at one p.m. He figured since they were going through with the bullshit annulment, he would need the night to drown his sorrows. Ending things with Samantha was slowly ripping him apart.

He refused to be on a plane longer than he was in Vegas, no matter what the situation was.

His phone vibrated with a text from Samantha.

Traffic is a nightmare. Let me know the room number and I can meet you there so we can discuss our plan with the judge. I won’t have time for a drink.

He chugged the remains of his beer, texted her back the suite number, and headed to the privacy of his room. As soon as he entered the room, he went to the bed and laid on his back. Time ticked away slowly until his marriage was over.

The marriage he didn’t want to end.

It was all a waiting game.

Waiting for Samantha to meet him in the hotel room.

Waiting for their court appearance.

Waiting for the judge to announce their annulment was awarded.

Then…what was next?

This was on repeat in Nate’s mind with no answer in sight. How in the hell were he and Sammy supposed to pretend like they weren’t married? After three months of them playing a pretend version of house, how would they survive it all crashing down?

Could they survive it?

Probably not.

He wasn’t being dramatic, but things had changed so significantly between them, there was no way he could go back to being only friends. Not only was he emotionally invested for more, there was no way he could forget what she looked like naked. How she moaned his name when he thrust into her. How she bit her lip when she orgasmed.

Fuck, how was he supposed to move on from her?

He dragged a pillow over his face.

The longer he was alone with his thoughts, the angrier he became at the situation he’d gotten himself into. Last weekend, when he’d been with Sammy and her friend Becca, Samantha had done nothing but admit to wanting to get back to being single. It wasn’t like she’d confided in him later that she hadn’t meant what she’d said to Becca. When they’d gotten back to her house, he’d fucked her against the counter in her bathroom and then they’d gone to bed.

It was he who was tied up in knots over their pending annulment, not her.

Samantha walked into the hotel suite with T-minus two hours until their required court appearance. And of course, she looked fucking stunning in her airport attire of leggings and an oversized t-shirt.

She pulled the shirt over her head, revealing the breasts he couldn’t get enough of hidden behind a black bra. “You want to take a shower with me before we meet the judge?”

Her question was innocent enough. Well, innocent in the let’s fuck before we get a divorce kind of way. For some reason this…this was where he cracked.

“Just one more time for me to fuck you before we go back to normal?” His words swiped back at her.

She took a shocked step away from the bed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What part? One more fuck or before we go back to normal?”

“I’m pretty sure we decided to see where this can go. I’m confused what going back to normal means now after you say something like that to me.” She crossed her arms and stared him down.

He sat up, pushing the pillows away from him. “It means the last time the conversation came up about us, you told your best friend you couldn’t wait to be her wingman again. You even gave the precise timestamp of our annulment.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Her voice was raised.