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He tips his chin and swallows. There’s guilt in his eyes when he looks back up at me. My brows tug inward.
“Why? Doyouremember what we did last night?”
“Not much more than you do. It keeps coming in waves, but I think I’m starting to put it together,” he says.
“Okay . . .” I drawl. “So, why do you look like Liam after he’s used marker on the wall and been scolded?”
Not even the mention of my adorable nephew is enough to crack through whatever is going on in Cooper’s head. It isn’t until he lifts his left hand in the air that he breaks, taking me with him.
Horror grips me. “Is that a—”
Slowly, he dips his head in confirmation. Then I watch as his eyes move to my hand.
“We didn’t,” I whisper, tucking my fingers into a fist as if that will hide them.
It doesn’t work. As soon as I follow his stare and find the matching tattoo on my ring finger, I’m flinging back open the toilet lid and disposing of anything left in my stomach.
Fuck.
13
COOPER
Adalyn Hutton is my wife.
It’s safe to say I’m utterly fucked.
My streak of perfect behaviour has been demolished in a single night. Reduced to rubble. To ash.
I’m never drinking beer again. Even the thought of chicken wings makes me want to run to the bathroom and join Adalyn in throwing up until my stomach no longer feels full of lead.
I stare at my hand and glare at the black ink circling my finger.Tattoos. Wedding ring tattoos, at that. I’m ninety-eight percent sure they were her idea. I’ve never been one for tattoos.Apparently, that didn’t matter last night, I remind myself. Not much of anything seemed to.
Twisting my hand in front of me, I groan at the name written on the inside of the ring.Adalyn. If I had to bet, I would say my name is on her finger as well. Even better.
“Maddox is going to kill me,” I mutter to the empty room.
He’s going to torture me first. Then kill me and bring me back just to do it again. Over and over until Oakley joins in. Maybe Ava will want a turn. Scarlett too.
I flop backward on the bed and stare at the ceiling, guilt zipping through me. The toilet flushes in the bathroom, followed by a low, pained moan that’s soon washed out by the faucet.
My memories of last night are weak, hazy. I don’t remember leaving the pub or finding a place to get hitched. Brief flickers have been coming since I woke up, but nothing substantial. Like the image of blue-and-pink hair brushing my cheeks as Adalyn stared down at me, her lips parting on words I can remember, my back wet and sore. Then there’s the photo I found in my camera roll of a blurry marriage certificate taken in the early,earlymorning.
I should have been the responsible one last night and said no to our contest, but how am I supposed to regret something that made me feel so good? So damn happy and light. Like during our time together, there wasn’t a single thing weighing me down or making me feel like I needed to be the grown-up. The one making the hard decisions and ruining everyone’s fun.
Adalyn pulls out that side of me. She pushes me out of my comfort zone and makes me feel like a kid again.
Our friendship is growing quickly. So quickly that it’s almost terrifying. We’ve been spending so much time together that it’s become second nature to blurt out the most random facts about ourselves and share things that we never would have under different circumstances.
This accidental marriage threw a wrench in everything. Now I have no idea where to go from here. Not a fucking clue.
At the sound of the bathroom door opening, I push up on my hands, clearing my throat. Adalyn doesn’t so much as look at me as she crosses the room, heading right for me.
“Can I lay with you?” she whispers, voice sounding raw.
The question is innocent. That much is clear when she lifts her eyes and stares at me with tired eyes. Her lips are drooping into a frown, and I fight the urge to use my thumbs to lift the corners up.
“Yeah.”
