Vegas, Baby - Volume 2

I got married last night. Shouldn’t I be naked?

My eyes scanned over Knox’s sleeping form and took in the outfit he was wearing—one very similar to mine. Then I started to remember even more. My recollections from the night before definitely had a blurry quality to them, but they were clear enough for me to remember how my “wedding night” had apparently gone terribly wrong.

I studied Knox’s sleeping form for a minute. He looked so sexy and peaceful in his sleep, and I took a second to imagine what it would be like to wake up to this every morning for the rest of my life. It’s what I’d thought I was signing up for by marrying him last night. But then...by the time we got back to our hotel room, he already seemed to be regretting the choice. He couldn’t seem to get away from me fast enough. Then when he saw me almost naked...apparently, he hadn’t been satisfied with what he saw. A tear leaked from the corner of one eye and slid down my cheek as I thought about how fast he’d covered up my body. Not to mention the fact that he’d slept as far away from me as possible while still being in the same bed.

I was short and extremely curvy, and I’d always loved that about myself. I hadn’t cared one way or the other how men looked at me. Until I met Knox. I’d loved the way he looked at me with such hunger in his eyes. Now, seeing how he’d changed his mind after I dropped my wedding dress...I didn’t know how to feel. Other than devastated.

Knox suddenly shifted, turning toward me, and I froze, praying he would stay asleep while I worked everything out in my mind. The only thing I knew for certain at the moment was that I had to get out of there before he woke up. Clearly, this whole thing had been one giant, universe-sized mistake. I sucked in my breath—as though that would somehow make me float out of bed or something—and scooted as lightly as possible to the edge of the mattress.

It took me a good ten minutes of slow inching and sliding before I slithered soundlessly to the floor. Quickly, I popped my head up to see if I’d woken Knox. Then I slapped a hand over my mouth when I almost let out an audible sigh at seeing him undisturbed. I dropped back down to the floor and crawled over to my wedding dress. After gathering it and my shoes, I crawled out of the bedroom into the suite’s living room. When I looked up, I saw a glimpse of myself in a decorative mirror and let the sigh escape. With my hair a tangled mess, my makeup smeared, and my skin paler than usual, this was definitely not my finest hour.

Climbing to my feet, I went in search of a powder room. After finding one by the front door, I switched out Knox’s T-shirt and boxers for my frilly white reminder that I was an idiot. Then I padded barefoot back to the living room to grab my purse and shoes. As I reached for my bag, the rings on my left hand sparkled, and I felt another wave of sadness for the dream I thought I’d found. Maybe my parents were right, and I was too sheltered, too unrealistic.

Shaking my head, I slipped the rings off and set them on the marble coffee table in front of the large blue sofa. Then I hopped toward the front door as I put a stiletto on each foot. Not without stubbing a toe, of course. “Ouch! Shit!” I exclaimed in a whisper-yell. Terrified that I’d woken him and would have to deal with morning-after bullshit, I ran out of the room, making sure to let the door shut quietly.

The elevator opened immediately when I pressed the button, and I sighed in relief as the doors whooshed shut with no sign of my “husband.” I was dreading the “walk of shame” I’d be doing shortly, but halfway to the lobby, I rolled my eyes at myself and hit the button for the tenth floor. Thank goodness. I’d almost forgotten that I was staying at the hotel since I sold my house. I certainly wasn’t going to take up my old room in my parents’ house. My mind suddenly flashed back to the night before when I’d suggested we get a room after the wedding ceremony. Well, perhaps my addled brain had done me a favor. It’s not like Knox would know where to find me. Not that he’d come looking.

By the time I reached my room, I’d given myself a long lecture and was determined to move on from my drunken blunder. I was made of stronger stuff, dammit. I quickly showered, removing all traces of Knox’s scent from me before dressing in tight black jeans, a shimmery purple tank top, and tall black suede boots. After shaking out my hair, I grabbed my leather jacket and purse, before marching out of my room with a determination that I was faking really, really well.