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I go to stick my hands in my pockets and discover I’m still wearing a sheet. So much for a casual pose.
Hannah bites her bottom lip. Suddenly, I remember kissing her beneath a palm tree. Desire heats my body, and I wish she wasn’t leaving for reasons entirely unrelated to our surprise marriage.
“Fly safe.”
“Yeah, thanks.” She waves the card at me. “I’ll call you.”
I nod.
With one final, unsure smile, Hannah walks out.
I don’t move, long after the door has clicked shut. I’m still in a state of shock. Still hungover and tired. Still…married.
Eventually, I toss the white sheet back on the bed and head into the bathroom. Under the pounding spray of hot water, I try to think rationally.
But my mind is too busy spinning in answerless circles. Now that Hannah is gone and I’m alone in my room, I can almost fool myself into thinking it was all just a dream. Part fantasy, part nightmare.
But as soon as I’m back in the room getting dressed, the piece of paper is just sitting there, taunting me.
I don’t even knowhowyou get married in Las Vegas. Did my drunk self really figure it out? If I had time, I’d go chapel to chapel until I figured out where this took place and could demand some concrete answers.
There’s no time, though. I’m due downstairs in ten minutes for the start of day two of Garrett’s bachelor party.
The last thing I want is for anyone here to find out what happened last night. Based on nothing but the Kensington net worth, I’m considered the most eligible bachelor in the country. Any tabloid would leap on the story, and Garrett is the only person here I would trust not to sell it.
I read articles about alcohol use and memory on my phone in between getting dressed. According to one study, heavy drinking can affect the transfer of memories between short- and long-term storage in the hippocampus. Still, I can’t figure out how I was cognizant enough to getmarriedbut drunk enough to forget the entire experience.
Maybe my brain is repressing it in an attempt to pretend it didn’t happen.
Unfortunately, life isn’t that easy to edit.
There’s a reason people view marriage as a massive commitment. That they think long and hard about whether to take that step and when and with whom.
And I just…went for it.
I finish getting dressed and leave the hotel room, resolving to push the avalanche of issues away until I have the time and wherewithal to deal with them. I sip the water Hannah handed me as I walk down the carpeted hallway, and then press theDownarrow when I reach the elevator.
The doors open a few seconds later, revealing a familiar face. “Oliver!”
I blink a few times, her cheerfulness more grating this morning than it was on the plane yesterday. Anything I was stressed about then seems mild in comparison to my current predicament. “Good morning, Marie.”
Marie beams as I step inside the elevator with her. “You remembered.”
“I’m good with names.” I force myself to return her smile as the doors glide shut.
“You’re stayinghere?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Uh, no. Just visiting.”
I glance over, belatedly noticing her wrinkled dress and smudged makeup. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great. Do I not look great?”
I don’t know how to respond to that. “You do. Just a little…rumpled.”
Marie giggles, then leans against the wall. “I had agreatnight.”
