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I woke up the next morning and felt like death. I sat up in bed as nausea rolled through my body. My head started pounding, and my vision was blurry. I fell back onto the bed and groaned, then curled myself back up into the comforter. Sleep. The only thing to cure a hangover like the one I was plagued with was sleep. I whipped the comforter around and knocked something over. It sounded like glass, but I couldn't be sure. I opened one eye and looked at a toppled over cup on the bedside table.
Water was dripping off the side of it.
“Fuck,” I said. “Where the hell did that come from?”
I reached over to pick up the cup, my hand sliding along a piece of wet paper. I couldn't see straight. My breath still smelled like alcohol. My body ached. My joints hurt. My muscles were sore.
I reached out to right the tipped over glass and everything fell to the floor.
I groaned out loud and squeezed my eyes shut for a second before opening them.
Something shiny caught my eye as I moved my hand in front of my face. I lifted my head gingerly and brought my hand closer to my eyes. My left hand. The one that was currently sporting a ring on a very important finger. I sat up quickly and immediately regretted that decision. My vision swam, and my stomach churned. I looked over at the official looking piece of paper on the bedside table, a feeling of disbelief rising within me.
I stumbled from the bed and took the piece of paper with me. I flipped on the bathroom light, and the whirring sound of the fan beat against my skull. I turned the light off and sighed, feeling my headache dissipate.
Then, I took my hair dryer and tried to dry the piece of paper that very clearly said “Marriage License” across the top.
I dropped the hair dryer as my eyes scanned the paper. There was my name. Samantha Easton. The ink was distorted, but it was clearly my name. I’d signed underneath it, but the last name I signed was no longer “Easton.”
It was “Anderson.”
“What the fuck?” I asked.
My eyes scanned over to the other side of the paper, but it was destroyed whatever I had spilled on it had distorted the ink to the point of being unreadable.
Who in the fuck had I married the night before?
I closed my eyes and tried to conjure the night. Maybe this was a prank. A practical joke. I could recall the night in bits and pieces. Dancing. Todd making jokes. Lauren leaving to go somewhere. Cards? Was poker involved?
My eyes flew open as it all came crashing back into my mind.
“Oh no,” I said as embarrassment heated my cheeks.
I’d slept with all the brothers.
Apparently, I’d drunk enough to lower all of my inhibitions and had given in to my ultimate fantasy. A knock came at my door, and I jumped. I scrambled to get the mangled piece of paper underneath a towel. I worked the ring off my finger and looked down, trying to find a place to put it.
Fuck. I was naked.
“Sam? You up?”
Of course, it was Lauren.
“Give me a second. Very hungover,” I said.
I shoved the ring underneath the towel and closed the bathroom door shut.
“Good morning,” I said as I opened the door, poking just my head out. “I’d let you in, but I’m kind of naked.”
“Uh-oh. Is someone in there with you?” Lauren asked whispering.
“I wish,” I said with a grin.
“You up for some breakfast? No one’s up yet, and I want to enjoy our last day in Vegas.”
“I’m actually about to disappoint,” I said.
