Page 13 of Perfectly Wedded

“Is there anything else you want to do tonight?” Vale asks from across the elevator, his voice low, eyes snagging mine. There’s something heavy in the question, a weight that makes my chest tighten.

My head scrambles, grasping for anything as I fiddle with my ring. “You mean other than go to bed?”

Vale raises an eyebrow.

I quickly backtrack, my face flushing with heat. “I mean, just sleeping... I’m so tired!” Then I give a big fake yawn just to make my point.

A teasing grin spreads across his face. “Oh really? I wasn’t aware that bed was on the agenda.”

“Well, it is now.” I can’t wait to return to my room, where sleep will drown out my embarrassment and the spinning thoughts of what this new life with Vale really means—or what itdoesn’tmean.

Just then, the doors of the elevator slide open, and Anthony and Demetria appear on the other side. For one awkward second, we just stare at each other, and I can’t believe our bad luck.

“We meet again,” Anthony says, draping a lazy arm around Demetria’s shoulders.

Their eyes drop to the sash draped across my body, and I suddenly realize I forgot to take it off.

“You got married tonight?” Demetria says, her face flashing with jealousy.

“Sure did,” Vale answers smoothly, then shifts closer to me, his arm slipping around my waist as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “When you’re crazy about each other, why wait?” His dark eyes cut to me as his fingers graze the top of my hip, warming the ice in my blood.

This is how husbands and wives are supposed to act, right? The warmth of his touch sends electricity through me, and I try to act like it’s not causing my heart to flutter like a trapped hummingbird.

They step inside, and the elevator doors close, sealing us in together.

Anthony glares at Vale. “I thought you were joking when you said you were engaged.”

Vale’s lips press into a firm line. “I don’t joke about things like marriage.” Which is ironic, since our entire ceremony was a joke.

The elevator dings for our floor, and Vale’s fingers intertwine with mine as we walk out together.

“Good luck,” Anthony says. “Most Vegas marriages last as long as the wedding ceremony.” As the elevator doors slide shut, the last thing I see is his smug grin.

I storm forward to give him a piece of my mind, but Vale pulls me back. “Forget him. He’s not worth your time. We need to headback to our room before we run into anyone else.” Vale pulls me down the hall, avoiding eye contact.

“Wait. Did you sayourroom?” I ask, stumbling on the carpet as he catches my elbow. His hand remains on my arm like it’s permanently attached.

“If anyone sees us go into separate rooms, they’ll suspect something.” His jaw clenches as his eyes dart down the hallway. “I’m sorry, Sloan, but this is the only way. I hate that we have to sneak around, but running into Anthony made me realize that we’re not safe letting down our guard, even for a moment.”

As soon as the hotel door clicks shut behind us, my chest tightens as the weight of it all hits me like a ton of bricks. Anthony knows we’re married, and none of our family or friends have the faintest idea. He could literally ruin everything with a single word.

I toss the cheap flowers into the trash with a frustrated sigh and sink into the nearest couch, my head in my hands. “What are we going to do? He could tell anyone and our secret’s out.”

“He won’t tell.” Vale leans against the door, his posture tense, as if he’s not sure whether he should come in or stay where he is. Even though he rents a room in my house, it feels strange to have him in my hotel room like this. My brain knows we’re pretending, but my body feels every inch of the tension.

I shift uncomfortably, hyper-aware of the space between us, or rather, the lack of it. Vale’s presence makes me feel like a tightly wound cord, the tension in my belly coiling tighter with every second that passes.

“You know what this means, right? I’m staying here,” Vale finally says, his tone casual.

My face snaps up. “Here? As in, this room?” My eyes dart around, scanning for any rogue underwear in plain view.

“Would you rather stay in my room?” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” I say. “I guess you should, uh, get your flannel pajamas and toothbrush, then. You know, for oursleepover.”

Vale’s lips curl into an amused grin. “Who said I wear grandpa pajamas?”

I sit up straighter on the couch, heat creeping up my neck. “I assume you wearsomething?” The idea of Vale sleeping in something less never crossed my mind, but now it’s all I can think about. It’s going to be a long night if he does.

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