Page 9 of Against The Rules

When he takes me to place after place on the Strip, treating me like a princess, I keep drinking. Why not?

The blurrier the night gets, the more fun I have. My jokes are funnier, his laugh is louder, and he keeps looking better and better. Plus… I feel safe with him.

It might be a night I never remember, but whatever.

Controlled chaos, it turns out, is a lot of fun.

So is Tyler Matthews.

Ugh.

My mouth feels like cardboard. Cardboard a dog peed on. Drool dribbles from the corner of my lips, and I smack them together before throwing a hand out and rummaging for my phone.

But I don’t find my phone.

I don’t find even find the nightstand.

Nope.

What I do find, however, is warm, firm muscle, and my eyes go wide in surprise and confusion.

“Ugh,” I say, slamming my palm against my eyes. “Too bright.”

“Good morning, Peaches.”

What the hell?

There’s a man in bed next to me. A fully dressed man, though he’s rumpled and messy, and as he smiles up at me, dimples flashing, I realize who it is.

Ty Mathews.

Oh god. Oh god! What happened last night?

I freeze, then sit up, forcing my poor retinas to adjust to the bright afternoon light streaming through the window. Immediate regret pulses through me, my stomach lurching in protest.

“Where am I?” I ask, trying not to throw up.

“My suite,” he says, his smile melting away into a look of confusion.

There’s a shade of lipstick on his jaw line and shirt collar I recognize.

It’s mine.

“Oh god,” I say out loud, the events of the previous night crashing back through me. Unsteady, I wobble out of bed, lurching for the bathroom.

“You don’t remember?” he asks, following me until I slam the door in his totally handsome face.

Oh god.

I take a deep breath and steady myself against the sprawling granite countertop. My reflection tells a whole story. I’m still in my dress from last night, and a quick check tells me my bike shorts are still in place underneath it, so whatever I don’t remember, at least it wasn’t that.

I think I’d want to remember that.

I do remember making out with him. A shiver goes through me, and I force myself to focus.

I remember… walking all around the Vegas Strip, until he took my shoes off and carried me into a hotel because my heels were rubbing blisters on my toes.

“Hey, are you okay?” Ty’s voice comes through the door loud and clear, unlike my fuzzy memories. “I can’t have my new wife locking herself in the bathroom when she doesn’t feel well. In sickness and in health, remember?”

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