Page 179 of Charming Like Us
His eyes grow and he points upwards.Shit. My sister is here. Sleeping in the king-sized bed in the loft.
I scoot up the pullout, leather couch, avoiding looking at my own hand. No. No fucking way. I try to think back to last night, but it’s all a messy blur after we reached the club. Quickly, I climb off the bed and grab his wrist, dragging him to the bathroom.
As soon as the door shuts, I take the plunge and look at my hand. Motherfucker! There’s a ring on my finger.
A ring!
“Do you remember what happened?” I ask Jack, his dark hair is tousled from a hard, drunken sleep. My boyfriend leans a hip against the marble sink counter, arms threaded loosely over his chest.
“A little bit,” he says, stiffly. “I was hoping we could talk it out and piece it together.”
I place two hands on my head, chest rising and falling heavily. “Alright, so we were at the club.”
“And then we left,” Jack says.
“Okay…I vaguely remember stopping at a jewelry store?” I shake my head. “But that doesn’t make sense because it was too late—everything would’ve been closed.”
“No, that’s right,” Jack snaps his fingers. “You stopped at the store, and you called someone…”
I groan and sink onto the edge of the tub. “Had to have been Maggie. She’s a friend from college. She works at Cobalt Diamonds.”
Jack questions, “If you asked her to let you in after-hours, you think she’d open the store for you?”
I nod strongly. “She’s done it before, mostly when I’m with Charlie.” I swipe a hand through my bed-head hair. “But maybe this is a good thing? We just bought rings. We didn’t actually get married.”
Jack reaches into his back pocket. The same pants he was wearing last night. He passes me a crumpled piece of paper.
I’m staring at my motherfucking marriage license.
We both signed it.
“No one’s talking about it on the internet,” Jack tells me. “Which means we somehow did this without paparazzi orpeoplenoticing.”
“Of course we fucking did.” I fold the piece of paper. “I’m a strategic genius, Highland. I can get married without it being on the news the next day. Apparently, I’m so fucking good, I even hid it from myself.” I start laughing, but it’s a stressed, panicked sound.
Jack points to the paper in my hands. “The name of the officiant and the two witnesses are all fraternity brothers.” He sucks in a breath. “So I’m just as much to blame. We must have run into them or something. I, honestly, don’t remember.”
I frown, the fuzzy parts starting to clear a little. “I think I do recall stumbling into some guy named Edgar. He wore an ugly plaid shirt that looked like vomit.”
Jack laughs. “Yeah, he’s a lawyer.” He shakes his head. “The crazy thing, Oscar, is none of this would have happened if we both weren’t so well-connected.”
“Look at us,” I say. “So popular we accidentally got hitched.”
Silence finally seeps in, and it strains something between us.
He’s my husband.
And I didn’t even know his middle-effing name until seeing it on the marriage license. Until right now. “Your full name is Jack Arizona Highland?” I question. “Arizona?”
He makes a pained face. “I was conceived in Arizona, apparently.”
I laugh, one that dies, but damn did I need that right now. The air sobers again. We stare at one another as the reality sinks and sinks.
Do I regret this? I’m a smart guy. Even drunk, I’m not going to do something I don’t want. Deep down, I love Jack, and I can’t imagine running to the courthouse to get it annulled. The thought causes my stomach to twist in tight, unthreadable knots.
But I also can’t imagine this being okay for him.Too soonare words that ring in my head. Maybe he thinks I drunkenly married him for his money.God, I hope not.
I lick my dry lips, mouth parched. “We can get it annulled.”
