Literallyanythingelse.
Maybe he’s messing with me, and this is all some elaborate joke.
Hedoeslove to piss me off.
It doesn’t explain the nakedness or the way our bodies are plastered together, but my brain can’t brain right now, so I’m ignoring the Occam’s razor of it all.
I’ll invent all the complex explanations I want, thanks.
The room spins as I carefully lift his heavy arm from my waist and place it on the mattress. He stirs a little and I hold my breath, but he doesn’t wake up. Once I’m free, I sit up too fast in my desperation to get away and the sheet falls.
And I’m naked.
I mean, I already knew I was, but now it’s confirmed and without Kasen’s body heat, now it’s a cold sweat I’ve got going on.
I yank the sheet up, clutching it to my chest. My head gives a violent throb or seven, but the pain is nothing compared to the panic starting to rise in my throat.
Or it could be vomit. Honestly? I think it’s both.
Either way, for a second, I forget that I’m trying not to wake Kasen up for my walk of shame when I spot an official-looking document with a receipt from the Little White Wedding Chapel sitting on the nightstand.
It’s a little crumpled, but clear as day are three signatures scrawled at the bottom—one of them mine, the other Kasen's—and a third signed by someone named "Elvis Aaron Presleigh" with a smiley face drawn in the 'g'.
Well, I think it’s safe to say panic’s about to win the vomit-panic duel happening in my throat.
As my pulse skyrockets, the throbbing in my head only gets worse, andwhy am I awake?
I think a solid plan would be to fall back asleep and hope that when I wake up for real this time, this whole thing was just some nightmare my subconscious cooked up thanks to all the tequila I soaked it in last night.
A middle finger from my brain to teach me toneverventure away from beer again.
Except no. I can’t go back to sleep. Not withhimin my bed. And you know what the worst part of this is? It’s when I sneak another look down at Kasen, and ashivergoes down my spine at the sight of all that delicious?—
Nope.
Nothing about Kasen James isdelicious.Not a damn thing. Not his broad chest or the stubble on his jaw or the abs with the real-life V that disappears under the blanket. I glare at him. How does he haveabs,anyway?A drool-worthy six-pack a guy who likes beer as much as he does shouldnothave.
Maybe he sold his soul to the devil. It would explain a lot.
You know what? This is fine. All I need is a plan.
I need to get out of this bed, find my clothes, and get out of this room before Kasen wakes up. Once I have a coffee IV and a shower, I can evaluate what needs to come next.
Taking a deep breath, I blow it out and spin, setting my feet on the floor. Okay, so far, so good. But I’ve never been that lucky, and the second I stand up, those light blue eyes crack open.
Every muscle in my body locks up as our eyes connect, and I wait to see what he’s going to say. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows, like he hasn’t quite registered who I am.
And I almost laugh when the light goes on behind them.
Almost.
He jerks upright, reaching to pull the comforter up higher. His eyes dart from my face to my bedhead to the sheet wrapped around me and then back again.
"What thefuck?" His voice comes out rough and I’m not sure if it’s from sleep or the horror of this situation.
"Good morning to you, too.” Now that he’s awake, I pull the sheet tighter around me.
He lifts his hand to run it down his face, but then he freezes when he sees the matching ring on his finger to the one on mine.Welp, guess there goes any hope this was a prank on his part."Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke."
