Page 4 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

The long line gives me plenty of time to stew in my thoughts. Sam, of course, strikes up a conversation with the pretty barista, charming her with his easy grin. She’s obviously a fan.

“Two coffees, black,” I curtly say when it’s our turn to order.

“And two blueberry muffins,” Sam adds, ignoring me.

“Really?” I hiss as we step aside to wait for our order.

“What?” He shrugs. “I’m starving.”

I roll my eyes but try to act patient while waiting for our order.

When our drinks are ready, we grab a corner table while I ignore the barista’s continued attempt to flirt with Sam. Taking a sip of the steaming liquid, I savor how it cuts through the fog in my brain.

Sam unwraps his muffin, taking a huge bite. “So,” he retorts around a mouthful of pastry, “what’s the plan?”

Setting my cup down, I level a haughty glare his way, ignoring his offered muffin. “We march straight to the courthouse, get an annulment, and forget this ever happened.”

“Simple enough,” he says, leaning back in his chair and helping himself to the second muffin.

I watch him take another bite of his pastry, unable to stop my gaze from lingering on his lips. His tongue darts out to catch a crumb, and my stomach flips as fading memories of what that tongue did last night flash through my mind. When I look up, his eyes are dark with knowing, and I quickly look away, hating how he can read me so easily.

“Emily, what if—“

“There is no what if,” I cut him off. “This was a mistake, Sam. A huge, colossal mistake.”

For the first time, his grin falters. He looks down at his coffee, his fingers drumming against the cup.

“I understand,” he states quietly. “But it wasn’t all bad, was it?”

His soft words catch me off guard. I open my mouth to respond but hesitate. Because the truth is, the parts I do remember—the attraction, the dancing, the sex—weren’t bad at all. He used the word fantastic, and I have to agree as more memories come flooding back. Certain parts of last night were incredible.

But admitting that feels like confessing to feelings I’m not ready for.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say finally, my voice resolute. “We need to get an annulment. Plain and simple.”

Sam nods, his expression unreadable. “Alright, Cupcake. Whatever you want.”

I whirl around and march out of the room, determined to get this handled as quickly as possible—because one thing is certain: I don’t know how much longer I can handle being Mrs. Sam Ryder.

Two

Sam

The rest of the morning passes in a blur. We navigate the labyrinth of Vegas bureaucracy, filling out forms and answering questions from a bored clerk who barely glances up at us.

That is, until she says, “You both need to sign here that the marriage was never consummated.”

I glance over at Emily, whose pen hovers in mid-air. She’s frozen in place, meeting my eyes with an uneasy glance.

I shrug with nonchalance, cocking an eyebrow at her as if daring Emily to speak first. It seems to infuriate her.

She swallows, clearing her throat nervously. “Um... well.”

The clerk finally looks up, her previous boredom replaced by a skeptical expression. “It’s perjury to lie on official court documents,” she states matter of factly as if she’s repeated it a thousand times before.

Emily glares at my relaxed posture. I know she thinks I’m too calm for someone in this situation, but I refuse to react.

“Perjury or stay married,” I say with another who-gives-a shit shrug. “Your choice.”

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