Page 36 of The Next Day


Font Size:

Leaning back, Grady crossed his arms and seemed to smile, as if he already guessed it. Jackass, he let Zane try to put the words together all on his own.

“Bunch of college kids, rowdy as hell. Anyway. Short of it is, according to Freya’s mom that asked around this morning, they served the wrong cupcakes for dessert and drugged all the guests with weed. Apparently those were for their friends after all we old folks went to bed.”

Eyebrows lowering, Grady shifted in his seat.

Controlling his breathing, Zane swallowed a wave of nausea that lingered from those damn drinks. Even more so from what he’d done. “We’d already had a few drinks, so by the time we left, we were trashed. With a serious case of munchies, we went to the restaurant across the street. Then, well, we sort of wandered into a wedding chapel instead of heading back to our room right away. And, well, we, uh, we got married.”

He held up his hand, the titanium band still on his ring finger. Should have taken it off, but he didn’t want to lose it. He’d already checked his bank account; last night cost a pretty penny. They’d hit the restaurant, the chapel, the jewelry store. Licensing fees, photographer.

Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, Zane cradled his head in his hands. So embarrassing. He was closer to forty than twenty. What the hell?

Grady rested his hands behind his head and grinned. “As you’re here instead of at home with your wife, I’m guessing you’re looking to find a way out of it?”

He nodded.

“I’m assuming Freya’s wanting out, too?”

“Yeah. Shit. I’m divorced. She’s been engaged a few times. Neither of us intended to get married. Eloping with a woman I’ve known less than a month? Dumbass idea. Can we get it annulled?”

Relaxed as if this were no biggie, Grady plopped his feet up on the ottoman. “Not called an annulment in Washington, it’s a Determination of Validity, but same thing. As you were both intoxicated, we have a good case for it.”

“Okay, good,” he nodded, letting out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been withholding. “Freya will be relieved.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Zane stiffened.

“But,” the corners of his mouth turned up with ironic amusement, “that won’t work if you two go around acting married.”

“No more sex?”

Grady muffled a laugh. “Not if you want that annulment.”

“I really don’t want two divorces.”

“Then keep your hands to yourself. Did you consummate it?”

Zane concentrated, trying to bring more of it back. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Woke up with my pants on,” he shrugged, leaning back into the couch.

Grady laughed out loud. “I can’t wait to hear Freya’s side of things.”

“She doesn’t remember any of it.”

“Do you?”

Zane cringed, “Not enough. I never forget. But I never drink such awful shit or get high, either.”

“Sorry man. Think you two will be able to stay friends?”

He nodded. “That was the plan to begin with. Burn out this chemistry we’ve got, then come home and pretend the weekend never happened.”

“Don’t think it works that way.”

“I know, but it was absolutely worth finding out the hard way. Or it would have been, if we hadn’t fucked it up by getting married.” He glared at the ring. Visions of another ring bounced around his thick skull. Wide gold band. Engraved inside, some bullshit about true love. Then handing it back to Blaire when she demanded her freedom. Not caring that he hadn’t slept in weeks, had been shot at, pushed to his limits while trying to save the world, his marriage, and their finances. “So how do we get the annulment?”