Page 6 of Chasing Forever
I nod because what else can I do? “Give me twenty.”
“Sounds good.” He grabs his coffee, opens the door, but then pauses, his face turned down the hallway. “There you are, Lottie. Romy was looking for you.”
The door swings shut before I can hear her reply.
I pull the ring out of my pocket, twirling it between my fingers and staring at the small band as though it holds all the answers.
I don’t know how the hell I got Lottie Owens to marry me. But the bigger question—the one that’s going to haunt me until I fix this—is how the hell I’m going to convince her that it wasn’t just the alcohol that led us here.
That maybe, just maybe, this was the best mistake we ever made.
Chapter Three
Lottie
I’m almost to my room when a door opens down the hall.
“There you are, Lottie. Romy was looking for you.”
Bennett. Jeez, Brooks couldn’t have stalled him a little longer?
I turn and smack on a smile, hoping he doesn’t see my red-rimmed eyes from hearing his confession to Brooks minutes ago. He doesn’t need my pity. “Hey, B.”
His gaze runs down my body. “Where are you coming from?” His long legs eat up the distance between us. Suddenly, the hallway feels about an inch wide.
“Oh, I… um…” I could easily admit defeat. I’m not even sure Bennett would react much to the news, but after Holden got me labeled as Willowbrook’s jilted bride, I guess I’m a little like my brother in that I despise pity. “Do you really want to know?”
I hate the fact that the memory of Brooks’s eyes when he took me in as he hovered above me this morning flickers through my mind. As if I’d just stepped out of a Vogue magazine photoshoot instead of looking like a disaster.
Bennett’s forehead wrinkles, and he seems to take in my rumpled dress, tangled hair, and smudged makeup. “You’re right. I don’t.”
Man, he must really be distracted this morning. It’s unlike him not to drill me. Although he’s younger than me, he’s taken on the role of the oldest for sure. I guess that’s what happens when you get married first.
“Didn’t think so.” I force a smile that suggests I did hook up with someone. He doesn’t need to know it was my new hubby, Brooks Watson. God help me. “I’m going to go shower.”
“Come to my room when you’re done. Brooks and I are going down to breakfast. They have these quiches you’ll love.”
He walks by me, and I wish now more than ever that when we checked in, the entire group of us weren’t all on the same floor.
When he stops at his room a few doors down, I smile. “I think I’m going to wait for lunch. I need a long hot shower.”
I wait for him to swipe his keycard, opening his door. “Thanks for not telling me the details. See you then.”
He disappears inside, and I run my keycard over the lock, hoping that Romy is down at breakfast enjoying those amazing quiches Bennett can’t stop going on and on about, but no such luck.
She springs off the bed, jumping into the small hallway opening. “Where have you been? You know you’re supposed to text me a picture of the guy and where you’re going.” She waves her phone in the air. “I’ve called everyone.”
Fantastic. Now the entire family knows I didn’t come back to my room last night—and considering how foggy my memory is, I can only guess at the rumors already swirling.
“I tried to call Brooks too, and he didn’t answer. One minute the two of you were going to the bar to get more drinks and then you never came back. You scared the shit out of me, although I assume you were with Brooks?” She waggles her eyebrows. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
I drop my purse on the desk and keep my back to her, ashamed to let her see what I’m about to admit. “I can’t really remember,” I whisper.
She huffs, and I circle around to see that she’s sitting on the edge of the bed. “Was it Brooks’s face you woke up to this morning?”
The pit in my stomach churns.
How not discreet were we last night?
