Page 62 of The One I Need
I open my eyes and roll over to look at Izzy. Her hand is still on my chest, and her blue eyes are tired but still beautiful. I take her hand and lace our fingers together. I have a feeling I know what she’s about to say, but I think since we’re currently naked, I can hold her hand.
“I’m pretty sure we need to stop going to hotels together.”
This makes her laugh. “Apparently. But Oliver—”
“I know,” I cut her off. “I know this doesn’t change anything. I know we were drunk and in a vacation bubble. You don’t have to give me the spiel.”
“I'm sorry.” Her words are sincere and her eyes are sad. “I wish I could be more for you.”
I bring her hand up to my lips, placing a kiss on her palm. “I’ve told you once, and I’ve told you again. I don’t want you to change a thing. Because you’re amazing just the way you are.”
She nods but doesn’t say anything. She does pull her hand from mine and slowly begins to get out of bed.
“I don’t remember the last time I was this hungover,” she says as she bends down and picks up a random piece of clothing. “Or that I blacked out.”
“Same,” I say as I slowly sit up in bed. “Actually, that’s a lie. My twenty-first birthday.”
I watch Izzy put on a T-shirt and am immediately confused. “Whose shirt is that?”
She looks down, then back up to me. “I have no idea.”
The shirt she put on is one of those black tuxedo T-shirts. Where in the world did that come from?
“You’re going to wear a shirt that somehow ended up in our hotel room, but we don’t know how it got here?”
“Oliver, I couldn’t give a flying fuck right now if it came here from the Tooth Fairy. I need to go to the bathroom and find some aspirin.”
I look around to the floor and see my pants thrown to the side. I’m guessing my phone is still in the pocket. I hope it is. I also hope there’s a bottle of water in the mini-fridge, because I need it more than anything in this world right now.
I gingerly get out of bed and slowly bend over to pick up my pants from the floor. I can feel my cell phone in the pocket, which I take out before throwing my pants toward my suitcase. I grab a clean pair of boxer briefs and slip them on before finding and chugging the cold bottle of water. I know we probably need to start getting ready to leave, but I need a few more minutes for my head to stop spinning.
I drop back on the bed and power up my phone. Huh…that’s a different background. Yesterday it was the picture of Izzy and me at the Vegas sign.
Today it’s still a picture of me and Izzy, only now I’m kissing her while she’s wearing a veil and I’m wearing a black T-shirt.
And I might not be able to see the front of it, but I guarantee there’s a tuxedo on it.
Holy shit…
My fingers start pushing every wrong button as I frantically open my phone and go to the photos. If sober me takes a million pictures, I can only imagine how many photos drunk me takes.
“Oliver?”
I look up to see a very pale and wide-eyed Izzy standing in front of the bed. “Yeah?”
She holds up her hand. The one that now has a ring on it. “Care to tell me what this is?”
I look down at my hand, and fuck—how did I not realize that I have a ring on myself?
Holy fuck…
“Well, I think I know where that T-shirt came from.”
I hold up my phone as she takes a few steps closer to the bed. She looks at the phone, then back to me in a panic.
“Did we…get married?”
* * *
