Page 2 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

“Something?” My voice croaks as I cut him, clutching the marriage certificate tightly. “This isn’tsomething! It’s a disaster! You’re my brother’s best friend. You’re in the band—a rockstar. We can’t be married!”

Sam shrugs arrogantly, far too relaxed for my liking. “Why not? You don’t remember it being romantic?” His eyes linger on my face curiously. His nonchalant attitude just adds insult to injury.

“Romantic?” My voice rises. “I don’t remember it at all!”

He tilts his head, his smile widening. “Well, I remember some things, like you pulling me onto the dance floor. And that kiss by the fountain. The chapel and last night, you were like a wild woman—”

“Okay! Enough!” My cheeks burn, but I don’t let him see how his words affect me. “That doesn’t mean we should’ve gotten married!”

Sam’s grin fades, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Look, Emily, it’s done. No need to freak out on me.”

“Of course, I’m freaking out, you imbecile,” I shoot back. “This is my life we’re talking about!”

“And mine,” he counters, his voice calm but tight. “You’re not the only one this affects, you know.”

I stop pacing, glaring at him as if it’s all his fault. “Fine. How are we going to fix this?”

Sam leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and as the sheet dips dangerously lower, I hastily avert my eyes. “First, we get dressed. Second, maybe you just need time to remember the details of last night. And third...” He pauses, his lips twitching. “We get some coffee. Because I don’t know about you, but I could use a shot of caffeine.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. “You are unbelievable.”

“Thanks,” he says with a smug wink.

I groan, grabbing my dress tighter and heading for the bathroom. “This is going to ruin everything.”

“Relax, Cupcake,” he calls after me. “We’ve survived worse.”

I slam the door behind me, my mind racing. Worse? I’m not sure what could possibly be worse than this.

As I slip into my dress and splash cold water on my face, I catch my reflection in the mirror. My hair’s a mess, my makeup issmudged, and the plastic ring on my finger feels like it’s burning a hole through my skin.

Dear God, what have I done? What did I get myself into? And why would I ever agree to marry Sam, of all people? Especially knowing our past history.

My brother’s band is doing well. But according to his manager, one hint of scandal could derail everything my brother and the band have worked for. Guilt surges through me, but I force it away.

When I step back into the room, looking better. Sam’s sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as I approach, his face unreadable.

“Well?” I say, folding my arms.

He shrugs. “Apparently, we went to the Little White Chapel. There’s even a selfie of us with Elvis.”

“Elvis?” I choke out.

He turns the phone toward me, and sure enough, there we are—grinning like idiots, arms wrapped around each other, with a smiling Elvis impersonator in the background.

“This cannot be real,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“Oh, it’s real,” Sam says, standing and grabbing his pants from the floor and pulling them on. “But don’t worry, we’ll fix it, Cupcak–”

“Don’t you dare call me that again,” I say, cutting him off as I try not to notice he goes commando.

“Why not? It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute,” I bite out. “And neither is this situation.”

He raises an eyebrow, his grin infuriatingly calm. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“Sam!”

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