Page 5 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

“Dammit!” The word bursts from her, and she quickly lowers her voice, forcing a tight smile at the clerk. “Can we... uh, think about it?”

The clerk gives us a pointed look, then looks beyond us and waves the next couple forward. “Next.”

By the time we leave the courthouse, the sun is already high in the sky, baking the pavement beneath our feet.

“Well,” I ask, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “What now?”

“I don’t know,” Emily replies flatly, throwing me a disgruntled look—the weight of the unsigned document weighing heavy on her mind. I hide the fact that I’m feeling a jumble of emotions that I can’t quite untangle.

My eyes linger on Emily for a moment longer, my expression neutral.

“You okay?” I ask gruffly.

She nods, even though her expression remains uncertain. I can’t tell how she feels.

Hell, I can’t even decipher what I feel—disappointed or relieved. Either way, I’m handling it way better than she is.

After a moment, I flash her a crooked grin. “Take your time, Cupcake. No need to look so glum.” I quip, deliberately wanting a reaction.

She rolls her eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Please don’t call me that again.”

“I can’t help it,” I say, my grin widening. “Would you rather I call you wife?”

Emily shudders. “I think I prefer Cupcake to… the other.” She turns to me, inhaling deeply. “We don’t tell anyone about this. Understood? This can’t get leaked.”

“Whatever you say.” I grin as I turn to walk back to the hotel, my casual stride seeming only to aggravate her further as she trails behind me.

I feel her eyes bore a hole in my back, and my smile broadens. My unbothered attitude is like nails on a chalkboard, judging by the tense look of her shoulders. Yet beneath her frustration, I wonder if she’s feeling the same emotions as me—doubt, yetit’s mingled with a strange type of exhilaration. Like maybe now that we’ve slept together, we can put all of our earlier sexual tension and animosity behind us and start fresh.

At the corner, I wait for her to catch up. The rest of the walk back to the hotel is quiet, except for a couple of pedestrians and the faint hum of traffic. Emily keeps a good two feet of distance between us, her arms tight across her chest. She’s pissed. I get it. But I can’t help the lopsided grin pulling at the corners of my mouth.

Husband and wife. Who would believe it?

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s chewing her lip, her brows knit together in a deep frown. She’s beautiful when she’s mad. Not that I’d ever tell her that.

“Stop staring,” she orders, catching me in the act.

Shaking my head as I raise my hands, I state, “Just admiring the scenery, Cupca–.”

Her eyes narrow into a scowl. “Do you ever take anything seriously, Sam?”

“Oh, I’m serious, all right.” I stop walking, turning to face her. “Do you think I’m thrilled about this? Waking up married to someone who can’t stand me? A bride who can’t even remember the wedding?”

Emily’s mouth opens, then shuts, like she’s trying to think of a witty comeback but comes up empty. That’s rare for her. Usually, she’s quick on her feet, ready to cut me down to size with a sharp word or two.

“This isn’t how I imagined the first day of my marriage would go, either.” She exhales slowly, shaking her head. “Attempting to get an annulment,” she mumbles resentfully.

The sting in her voice pricks at something in me. I should let it go, let her blame me for the whole thing, but I can’t resist rubbing it in. “Well, I wasn’t exactly holding a gun to your head last night, was I?”

Her eyes flash, and for a second, I think she’s going to slap me. “How can you think this is funny?”

“I don’t think it’s funny. Just damn ironic,” I say, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets. “You’ve hated me for years, but now we’re kinda stuck with each other.”

Her face flushes, and she looks away, her jaw tight. That’s when it hits me—she’s not just angry. She’s flustered–shaken.

I lean against a lamppost, letting the silence stretch between us. Emily’s not one to stay quiet for long—and sure enough, she breaks first.

“Do you remember last night?” she asks, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

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