Page 23 of Vegas with my Brother’s Best Friends

“I’m sorry,” I tell them, unable to meet their eyes.

If I see any sadness or disappointment on their faces, I’ll crumble and crawl right back in bed with them.

Casting my gaze down, I go to the foyer, my steps feeling heavier and heavier the farther I get from them. Everything in me wants to turn back around and enjoy the fantasy for just a little longer, but that’s all this can be.

A past fantasy.

I poke my head out of the suite and check the hallway, not seeing a single soul. The door lightly clicks shut behind me before I hurry to the elevator, going down a few floors to my hotel room.

A few people roam up and down the hallway when I step out of the elevator, but I don’t see any familiar faces. If anyone from the wedding party sees me in the same dress I went out in yesterday, they’ll quickly figure out that I spent the night in someone else’s room.

I can’t handle an interrogation this morning.

I’m only ten feet away from my hotel room door when my phone buzzes. My blood runs cold. Did someone find out? Is it Ryan demanding to talk?

I check my phone and release the breath that I was holding when I see that it’s just Sarah messaging in the group chat.

See everyone at breakfast in thirty minutes! Hungover or not ;)

Damn it. I forgot about breakfast by the pool. I’m the one who made the reservation!

I fumble with my key card and finally get the door open so that I can rush inside and hide myself from the rest of the world. For a few seconds, I seriously consider saying I’m too sick to come and just staying in my room for the whole day to contemplate every decision that I’ve made in the past 48 hours.

But that’s not fair to Sarah. She needs her maid of honor to be present for the last day of her bachelorette party weekend.

I force myself into a cold shower, gritting my teeth as goosebumps cover my arms. At least it temporarily distracts me from the mess I’ve possibly made. The guys are going to be around Ryan constantly.

They may be better liars than me, but what if they slip up? What if Ryan puts pieces together?

By the time that I only have five minutes to rush to breakfast, my hair is still damp, and my makeup consists of lip gloss and mascara. I retire my heels for sandals and throw on a midi dress that’s at the top of the folded clothes in my suitcase.

It’ll have to be good enough for breakfast. After that, I can gather myself a little more.

I think a mimosa will help me calm my nerves.

Or maybe two.

Chapter nine

Chapter 9: Jackson

The suite is painfully quiet after Cassidy leaves.

I’m usually fine with silence, but this is the type of quiet that makes me uneasy. There are too many words left unspoken. Too many bottled up feelings waiting to explode.

Maybe we should’ve talked more about what happened and what to do next, but Cassidy was insistent on leaving. We’ll just have to keep our mouths shut and hope that Ryan doesn’t somehow find out that Cassidy was with us last night. Or the night before.

After the guys and I shower and get dressed, we head to the elevator and take it all the way down to the first floor, not saying a word. Saying anything about what happened outside of our suite feels too risky.

Like the damn walls are listening.

Tyler rubs the back of his neck, looking more uneasy than usual. If anyone can shake off their nerves, it’s usually him.

Marcus doesn’t even look like he’s mentally present in this moment. He’s stuck in his own head.

The elevator dings before the doors slide open.

“Relax, you two,” I mutter before leading them out into the hallway that connects the lobby and the lounge.