Page 26 of Perfect Playbook

“Maybe we just got the license. Maybe we didn’t actually…”

Tiny balled-up pieces of paper and the evidence of our sordid night seem to go on for days.

His deep, reassuring voice reaches me from behind. “Honestly, Shay,neitherof us would do this…”

I keep digging. It’s mostly food and gambling, and somewhere in this room is a teddy from a lingerie shop. Just when I think we might have gotten away with the worst, that maybe we just got a license but didn’t get married, I pull out the last slip of paper.

Hunka Hunka Burning Love Chapel.

“Oh God…” I let my head fall into my palm and rub my temples again. “This is madness, Logan.” I could cry.

I turn around and raise the paper into the still sordid, humid air in front of us. “Why would you let us get married?”

“Me!” His eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “I wouldn’t…”

“This paper says we’re married, Logan!”

He throws the pillow aside and jumps up to snatch the paper from my hand. “No way in hell…”

I try not to be distracted by his swinging cock. “Why did you let us do this?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve always thoughtyou’rethe responsible one between us. What’s your excuse,boss?”

I grab a discarded towel from the floor and shove it in his direction. “For goodness sakes, Logan, put some clothes on.”

“Clothes aren’t going to fix this…” But he wraps the towel around him.

I throw myself back into the bed and stare at the opposite wall. “I hope this is your first time.” I bite, regretting my attack instantly because I know I’m as much to blame.

“Of course it’s my first time,” he says, offended. “Jesus, Shay, what kind of degenerate do you think I am?”

I should back down but don’t because it’s not like his reputation doesn’t precede him. “The one portrayed inSnowedmagazine. The one everyone knows is a…”

He cuts me off. “I’m not that kind of guy. It’s… never mind.” He contemplates the paper again. A line forms between his brows, then he sits next to me and stares at the same wall I do.

“Trust me,this?” He waves the paper like it proves something it doesn’t. “God, we must have been off ourrockers.”

“We screwed up.” I take a few calming breaths. Blaming Logan wasn’t fair. “Sorry I said that about you doing it before. I shouldn’t have said what I said. We both did this. I’m just…”

“We’re just… shocked.”

I clutch the sheet like a lifeline. “We need to fix this. I have a son, Logan. I can’t just do things like this. I shouldn’t have even gotten that drunk. Antonio counts on me…” My heart races thinking of Nino. This was so irresponsible. I could have gotten hurt last night.

I’m weak. Weak from an entire night out. Weak from nausea. Weak between my legs, probably from riding this man.The shock slowly fades, and a dull ache of shame settles behind my eyes. I let my head fall to the mattress and find a pillow to cover my face.

Silence surrounds me, and I breathe hard against the feathers until it almost feels like I’ll suffocate under here. How could I have been so irresponsible drinking that much in this crazy town? Nino counts on me. A single tear escapes out of the corner of my eye, and I refuse to let Logan see me if another is to fall, so I sweat under the Egyptian cotton.

It’s crazy enough I got accidentally drunk-married at all, but to Logan? I have to think it’s the best worst-case on some level because I know we’ll be able to sort it out. I know he’s become an idiot over the years we’ve been apart but he’s not an asshole, we’ll be civil about it. Still, it skewers my self-esteem. Logan must have a thousand secret women. I’m just another notch.

Logan aside, even when we sort this, I’ll carry this boulder of guilt forever.

The pillow mutes my pathetic words. “I’m a terrible mom.”

Logan breaks his silence by placing his hand on mine on top of the pillow. His hand is an affection I don’t deserve right now but tenderness that’s a balm for my shame. He strokes his thumb over my sensitive skin, and slowly, his caring caress convinces my heart rate to come back to normal.

“You could never be a terrible mom.”

I throw the pillow off my face and onto the side of the bed with a dull thump. “How would you know?”

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