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“My eyes are up here, princess.”
I snap my head up to his stupid grin and throw a pillow at his face as I climb up to my knees. “Wanna tell me why I have a wedding ring on my finger, Easton Hayes?”
“Pretty sure because you’re my wife, Madeline Hayes.”
“I’m sorry. WHAT?” I shriek at Easton as I stand up and attempt to secure the sheet around myself, while hysteria bubbles underneath my skin. “For a second, I thought you said I was your wife. But that couldn’t be right. I mean, that’s crazy.” I fight to get the stupid fucking sheet knotted so I can move without my boobs popping free but can’t seem to manage since my hands won’t stop shaking. “I can’t be your wife. I’m not even your girlfriend.” When I still can’t get the damn sheet tied, I grab a white t-shirt off the floor and take a step toward Easton. “How exactly could I possibly be your wife?”
Easton takes the shirt out of my hands and pulls it down over my head like I’m a freaking child, and I manage to slide my arms through it without flashing him.My husband. “What the fuck, E?”
His eyes soften as I drop the sheet to the floor and step out of it. The shirt comes to mid thigh, covering all the important bits, and I feel slightly better for a second until he reaches out and cups my face. “What’s the last thing you remember, Lindy?”
I close my eyes—trying to ignore how good it feels to be held like this—and try to focus on last night, but that makes my head hurt ten times worse. “Everything gets a little fuzzy after the shots.”
Oh, lord. So many shots. “There was dancing.”
“Yeah, baby. There was dancing. A lot of dancing,” he murmurs as his thumb rubs along my cheekbone.
I lean into it, and then my eyes fly open. “You threw me over your shoulder like I was a bag of dirty laundry,” I exclaim, and a sexy laugh rumbles in his throat.
“You throw a lot of bags of laundry over your shoulder, princess?” He bends his knees, bringing his forehead to rest against mine when I don’t laugh at his stupid joke, fighting to hold back the tears threatening to pool in my eyes instead. “Come on, Lindy. Try to remember what happened after that. I need you to remember the rest of the night.”
I shake my head and immediately regret the motion as my head threatens to explode again. “How were you sober, E? You had as many shots as I did.”
“I wasn’t completely sober. But I wasn’t blackout drunk. And I didn’t think you were either. At least, not then. When we all piled onto the party bus afterward, and you and Everly started chugging champagne straight from the bottle, I thought maybe you wouldn’t be feeling too great today.” He tilts my face up to his, and I’m shocked by the hurt I see there. “But I wasn’t expecting you not to remember anything.”
“East—” I’m cut off by a banging on the hotel room door.
“Madeline Kingston, kiss your husband goodbye and get your ass moving. The jet leaves in an hour.” When I don’t answer her right away, too busy being stuck on the fact she just told me to kiss my husband, she bangs again. “I’ve been calling you all morning. Now answer the damn phone or open the damn door.”
Guess it was Everly who woke me up earlier.
That’s one question solved.
Only about a million more to go.
I step back from Easton, cross the room, and crack the door open. “Give me a minute, okay?”
She stuffs her hands through the crack in the door and shoves clothes at me. “Hurry up and say goodbye to lover boy. We’re waiting on you, and I need to know what to tell my mom.”
“Your. What?” I whisper, and my breath is ripped from my body. “Your mom? Your mom knows? Doesmymom know?”
Please, dear sweet baby Jesus in the manger.
Please,please, please, don’t let my mom know.
“Everly,” I yell and open the door. Only, instead of Everly being there, the hall is empty.
Son of a—
My eyes fly to Easton. “It’s Vegas. We can get this annulled, and nobody will ever have to know, right?”
If they don’t already.
My mom’s gonna kill me.
My sisters... Good grief. My brothers are going to lose their minds.
“We’ve got to get this annulled. Quick,” I add on for good measure as I pull up the jeans Everly handed me.
