I lift my hand and wiggle my fingers so he catches the glint of gold on mine. "Apparently not."
I scoop up the papers on the nightstand and hand them over. Kasen snatches them, eyes scanning the documents frantically. "How drunk were we?"
"Drunk enough to thinkthiswas a good idea," I say, gesturing between us. Thisencapsulates so very many things. The nakedness, the wedding. Whatever happened between last night and right now that I have zero memory of.
I spot my black dress hanging from a lampshade and hurry over to grab it, shimmying into it over the sheet and then letting the sheet drop.
Now where the hell are my underwear?
Kasen runs a hand through his messy hair and I ignore the way it makes his biceps flex. "Did we...?" He gestures between us and I laugh.
“I think it’s pretty safe to say we did.” If the ache between my thighs and the fingerprint shaped bruises I noticed on my hips are anything to go by, but I don’t think he needs the details.
Kasen's jaw clenches, and he looks away. "Jesus Christ."
I find my underwear on the floor by the bathroom, so I grab them and go inside for a little privacy. Flicking on the light, I get the full effect of my bad decisions staring me right in the face when I look in the mirror. My makeup’s an absolute travesty, my hair’s a tangled, wild mess and there’s absolutely no way I’m going to be able to cover the Texas-sized hickey on my neck.
I’m pretty much the dictionary definition ofwalk of shame.
Who the hell evenisthe girl in the mirror because no way is she me. I don’t do stuff like this. And Idefinitelydo not sleep with the enemy.
Again, we’re ignoring the wholemarriedthing. Coffee IV first, remember?
While I pee andohmygod sweet relief,I take a second to look around the fancy bathroom. It’s got one of those giant jacuzzi tubs that could fit the entire list of characters from a reverse harem in it. And at some point last night, it looks like Kasen and I had some fun in there.
There’s a half-empty bottle of top shelf tequila tipped over and spilling out onto the floor, which still has cold puddles of water all over the place.
Say what you want, but at least we didn’t drink the cheap shit.
I splash cold water on my face, trying to wash away the evidence of what I've done, but all it does is smear around the mess of my makeup and now the front of my hair’s dripping and wet.
Oh, and the light catches the ring on my finger and why the hell am I still wearing it?
I go to take it off, but this dress doesn’t have pockets and besides, if I take it off, then I have to deal with what to do with it and…
I can’t.
I just… can’t.
I do not have the brainpower with this hangover to make decisions.
Not small decisions and notI probably-definitely married my rival in Vegas and then consummated the hell out of the weddingdecisions.
Just fuckall the decisions.
When I get my shit together as much as I’m going to, I step back into the room. Kasen’s pulled on his jeans, but he’s still shirtless. And I’m pretty sure he’s going commando, too.
He’s upsettingly hot.
Unfortunatelyhot.
And he’s pacing the room, gripping the ends of his messy hair like he’s having some sort of meltdown. I might hate the guy, but I can’t blame him. I’m freaking out, too.
I’m absolutelynotdrooling over the tattoos that continue up his neck and disappear into his hairline. I've never seen Kasen without his black beanie and some sort of flannel before, and the sight is...
Well, my nipples would tell you that it’s distracting.
Maybe a little sexy.
