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“Our wedding night? Not much.” I stood up and went to my bedroom where I had my destroyed tie and the strip of photographs in the top drawer of my dresser. And then I went to my closet and pulled the plastic candy ring out of my coat pocket where I kept it and took everything back to the kitchen and laid it all out in front of her.
“When I woke up and got dressed, I found these things in my pockets, and the bottom half of my pants were wet,” I said. “And they felt like clues to what happened that night but I couldn’t attach them to memories. And trust me. I tried.” Especially the photographs. Like, how could I not remember the photographs? Sitting beside her right now it seemed impossible that I would not remember fucking this girl. Touching her. Kissing her. But other than the smell of peaches and the sense that it had been out-of-this-world-good sex, I had no memory.
“This was my wedding ring,” she said, pulling the plastic candy ring toward her. She slipped it on her thumb.
“You’re kidding me? That’s so cheesy.”
“I thought it was sweet,” she said. “But I was pretty drunk, too. Your pants were wet because you jumped in a fountain to prove that rules meant nothing to you, and I jumped in with you, and then security guards kicked us out.” She reached into her purse and set Baby Girl on the floor. Baby Girl immediately jumped over to the couch and growled at me from one of my pillows. “I have a picture.” She tapped on her phone and handed to me.
It was us. The lights were hitting us just right, and the water splashing around us looked like glitter and I had my arm around her waist and she had her arms around my neck and we were gorgeous.
“It looked like we were having a good time,” I said. Which was understating it. It looked like we were having the time of our lives.
“Not as good a time as we were having in these pictures,” she said, lifting the photo booth strip up. Sitting with her here, I could feel myself blush. That’s how hot the pictures were.
“Where were we, do you know?”
“Treasure Island. We’d just watched the pirate show.”
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“Are we having sex in this picture?” She tapped the bottom one, where she was on my lap, facing me, and my hands were on her ass, her silver dress hiked up to reveal she wasn’t wearing much underneath it.
“Maybe?” My dick was hard just thinking about it.
She took her cell phone and put it back in her bag and then dug back into the pasta. “I have a lot of pictures on my cell phone, and in a lot of them we are definitely having sex.”
I dropped my fork. “You have pictures of us having sex?”
“And a video.”
“We made a sex video?” I cried.
“It was your idea.”
“Lexie.” My brain was short-circuiting. All these years of the straight and narrow, and then I make a sex video of my Vegas wedding night. This was the kind of shit people expected Matt to do, not me. And if anyone found out it would be bad, not just for me, but my family. The whole town. “ I’m…I’m running for mayor.”
“Mayors don’t get their freak on?”
“If those videos or photos got out into the press…”
She blinked at me. “You think I’m going to sell them or something?”
“No. I mean. I would hope not.”
She looked impossibly hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But…we don’t actually know each other.”
“I would never sell the photos, Ethan.”
“Well, can you delete them?” She looked aghast. “I’m serious, Lexie. If anyone sees the pictures or the video I could lose the election.”
“I’m not selling them or deleting them. They’re from my wedding night. They’re safe with me. I’ll make sure no one sees them.”
She was a romantic. That much was obvious and a little startling. We ate in silence for a few minutes, though I noticed she mostly pushed the pasta around in her bowl.
“Is it hot?” I asked. “The video? Or do we have weird glow-in-the-dark eyes and butt zits?”
“It’s hot. Especially me.” She grinned. “It’s solid porn, great lighting, strange camera angles. No butt zits, and you can’t see your face but you do some real good thrust work.”
My dick liked this. Liked all of it. The words coming out of her mouth, the sexy smile on her lips. The idea that I’d done some good thrust work. It killed me I had no memory.
“Can I see it?”
“I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to be mayor.”
I laughed and she smiled at me, and the tension of being married strangers was gone and it felt like we were almost…friendly.
“We’re married. I still can’t believe it.”
