Page 98 of Snared

Shit.

“I’m fine, Jules. It’s been crazy, but the tour is amazing.”

Her eyes narrowed. She’d always been able to see right through me.

“Uh-huh.” She lifted one hand. “Let’s see. You married your manager, the one you never liked. You’re still married to him. He just kissed you within an inch of your life and you clearly loved it. As did he. He looks at you with what I can only describe as reverence mixed with lust. And your ex blabbed a bunch of bullshit to some reporter and the media has been extra shitty.”

She ticked off a finger with each statement.

I rolled off the bed. “Maybe some wine would be a good idea.”

“Not tequila?” she asked, that brow quirked again.

“Tequila started this mess,” I muttered.

She rose from the bed and walked over to where I stood, examining the basket of goodies that Josh evidently had delivered to the room.

My heart melted at the sweet gesture.

She side-hugged me. “This from him?”

“Seems like. And yeah, no tequila,” I said, biting back a grin.

“This will do,” Jules said, plucking out the bottle of wine along with some of my favorite salty snacks.

Stupid heart squeezed again. It was pathetic that it took so little for it to react like that. It was some stupid chocolate-drizzled pretzels with pink sea salt.

I shoved aside my feelings, grabbed two glasses and a corkscrew—because he clearly thought of everything—and walked back to the bed.

“So, fess up, Lotte,” she said when I handed back the uncorked bottle and she filled our glasses.

I froze. I wasn’t supposed to fess up. We were keeping the truth a secret. The fewer people who knew, the better. Josh’s words echoed in my head, but Jules was different, and she was right in front of me.

And I needed to confide in someone who knew me, really me. Beyond the band. Beyond the drama.

Just me.

I took a big gulp and reclined against the headboard.

“It’s fake,” I said.

“That kiss? Not fake,” she said.

“No, we’re really married. It was a huge mistake and one I don’t totally recall. I remember getting stupid drunk that night. I was walking on the Strip with Jax and Josh, and we ran into Troy. I mean, of all the people to run into, it had to be him.” I paused and took another sip. “I have a vague memory of him talking shit, I think about me fucking the band.”

“He was always such a prick,” Jules said.

I laughed. “I know that now. Anyway, I’m sure he said some other hateful shit I don’t remember, then Josh punched him in the nose. Troy dropped like a stone. That part is clear,” I said with a grin.

“I’m liking my new brother-in-law more and more.”

“Then Jax met up with some woman and ditched us.”

“Not surprised,” Jules murmured, but I kept going.

“Josh and I started walking back to the hotel and passed a chapel. I’m honestly not sure how he convinced me to get married, or if we both were too gone to think straight, but the next thing I knew, I was waking up in bed with Josh the next morning with a damn ring on my finger. And a fuzzy memory of Elvis marrying us.”

“I thought you said no Elvis,” Jules interrupted.

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