“Ugh.” Clenching my eyes shut to shield them from the sun that’s strong enough to kill a vampire, I press my fingertips into my thumping temples. Even if I can’t remember everything that happened last night, my pounding headache reminds me of the amount of alcohol I consumed. I need Advil and water. Stat.“Fuck.” I want to move, but lifting my head, which feels like dead weight, seems impossible.
I’m getting too old for this. I used to be able to party all night and into the next morning, but those days are long gone, and now my body feels like it’s been through several rounds with a heavyweight boxer.
I unpeel my tongue from the roof of my mouth, which is drier than a sand-filled sandwich, still considering whether I should move. It’s just as well we aren’t scheduled to fly to Bora Bora until later this evening because I’m in hangover hell.
I amneverdoing Jäger Bombs again.
Tentatively, I roll my head to the side and slowly open my eyes, look down, and discover I am lying on the bed fully clothed next to Erika, who is also still wearing the dress she wore last night and looked like a billion dollars in; every guy at dinner couldn’t keep their eyes off her. I must have told her how beautiful she looked over a dozen times. Maybe it’s because she’s mine now and we’re giving us a shot, but all I wanted to do was kiss her, dance with her, sit her on my lap. Hell, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Now that part, I do remember.
I decide to let her sleep off her hangover and roll over on my side to pull my phone off the nightstand to check the time: midday. I’m thankful I organized a late checkout today.
Confused by the hundreds of notifications on my phone screen, I scroll through the endless preview comments and likes from an Instagram post that has blown up overnight.
I knew you two were always going to happen.
Congrats, guys.
You two look gorgeous together.
This is next-level love.
OMG, I never thought you would lock someone down.
RIP to the DMs from hot girls, Leon.
Okay, now make some cute babies.
Wasn’t expecting this. Ever.
She wore that dress? Bold.
This is elite energy.
I’m off to cry into my breakfast bowl.
About damn time!
Shit. What the fuck happened in the night? My heart begins to race.
When I notice over twenty missed calls from Ash, real unstoppable pressure builds in my chest.
Something’s happened.
I hit the Instagram icon, then tap my profile photo. Instantly, the blood drains from my body, turning my stomach to knots.
There’s a new post there. Of me… and… I squint before opening it up… Erika.
“What the fuck?” I catapult upward much faster than my head and stomach would like, and click on the photo of Erika and me that I don’t remember taking or uploading in the early hours of this morning.
My mouth drops open in shock because right there in full color, in that photo, Erika and I are kissing. But that’s not the worst part. She’s holding up her hand to the camera, wearing a gold wedding band with a caption that simply says,She said yes. I’ve even tagged her in the photo and everything.
Oh.
My.
Fucking.
God.
