Page 5 of Forever After All (Pine Harbour #2)

Alice

F uck, fuck, fuck.

I slept with my best friend's brother-in-law. I think.

The alcohol anxiety is kicking in full force. I feel sick. So, so sick. I don't know if it’s from the hangover or the pit of dread swirling around in my stomach from sleeping with Carter.

Why would you do that, Alice? You dick.

I'm currently walking around the corridor of a hotel, holding up my bridesmaid dress, quite obviously doing the walk of shame.

Why do all these rooms look the same? Which is my door?

"Alice?"

I turn my head a little too fast, and regret it immediately as my brain takes more than a few seconds to catch up to my head movements.

Autumn stands in her hotel room doorway, looking out at me.

She says my name more like a question than a statement.

Well, I know I'm in the room next door to Autumn and Sawyer, so I have never been happier to see my best friend's beautiful face.

So, before she has the chance to follow up with anything else, I respond.

"Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies.

Happy first day of marriage, Mrs. G." I shove the key card into the little slot on the door, wait for the mechanical click, and push my way through it.

Closing the door behind me, I secure it with the chain.

I hear Autumn laugh and close her own door soon after.

I run straight for the restroom and collapse to my knees, stuffing my head into the toilet. Then I puke.

My god , there is so much vomit, and just when I think no more can come out, it continues.

After what feels like forever and gasping for breath, the urge to be sick finally subsides. I draw in some shaky breaths and struggle to push myself to standing.

I finally summon the courage to look at myself in the mirror.

Dear god. What a mess. Last night's makeup has melted down my face.

Mascara smudged under my eyes, foundation flaking off around my nose, and I am covered in spots of silver glitter from my eyeshadow.

My face shimmers under the little restroom spotlights.

" This is the skin of a dickhead, Bella.

" I snort laugh at my own internal Twilight joke.

Grabbing my toothbrush, I squeeze some toothpaste onto it and stuff it into my mouth, brushing away the last few minutes of my life.

I can't stop thinking about waking up in Carter's bed.

We've known each other for over a year now, and we hang out often enough, but I wouldn’t really consider him a friend.

Not in a negative way, but we only hang out by association.

We get on great, don't get me wrong, but I've always kept my distance because it feels like a boundary that should be respected.

His brother is my best friend's husband.

My best friend is his sister-in-law. Maybe we are friends, I don't know…

but I honestly didn't think I'd have a handful of his dick this morning.

Maybe I should speak to him—you know, like a grown adult.

But the millennial in me wants to refuse to speak to him in person.

Therefore, I do the next best thing, and write out a text.

Autumn, Sawyer, Carter, and I are in a group chat together, so reaching out through a text shouldn't seem too weird. Should it?

I type out a series of messages and promptly delete them when I'm not satisfied with the content.

Me: Did we sleep together?

*delete* Nope. Don't be so blunt.

Me: I'm so sorry that I ran off, I am just a bit shocked. I didn't expect to wake up in your bed this morning. I am horrified by what we've done. Your brother is my best friend's husband.

*delete* Why am I apologising so much? I am not really guilty of anything.

Me: Did I make a fool of myself?

*delete* Nope. that sounds so pathetic.

Me: Hey, can we talk? Coffee? Maybe away from here, so the walls aren't listening?

*send*

The three little dots appear almost immediately.

Carter: That didn't take long. I thought you might pretend I didn't exist for at least a week!

Carter: Sure.

Carter: Give me an hour.

Me: Meet you in the lobby?

Carter: Sure.

An hour is a good time frame, I can try and pretend I’m not as dead as I feel. Not that it matters since he saw the state of me this morning. I couldn't feel shittier if I tried, so I may as well rip off the Band-Aid now.

After my shower, I dry my hair and pull my long locks into a side braid.

I don’t have the energy to bother with makeup.

My skin is sensitive from sleeping with an inch of foundation on my face, and my stomach is still twisting from the incessant vomiting this morning.

I lather on the thickest film of moisturiser that my skin will absorb and pray the hydration from it will hide my sins.

I pull on my jeans, cowboy boots, and white tee, followed by a blue flannel shirt, which I tie at the waist. I always try to wear things that break up my silhouette, given that I am nine-hundred feet tall.

Well, five-foot-eleven, but what is a few feet between friends?

My god, I really don't want to have this conversation, but if I don't do it now, then I know I never will.

I check the time, and it’s been fifty-six minutes since our text exchange .

It's now or never, Alice.

I open the hotel room door as quietly as possible, feeling like I’m being extra sneaky, and it clicks shut behind me.

I walk down the quiet corridor and approach the lift, which comes to life as soon as I press the call button.

The lift dings and the doors slide open, and I look behind me to make sure nobody is watching.

The post-alcohol paranoia is strong today.

I step inside, feeling a little cooler than I did a moment ago.

It’s colder out here than it was in my room.

I press the button for the lobby and the jolt as it moves down turns my sensitive stomach once again.

The doors slide open with another ding and I'm standing in the hotel lobby. I hear murmurs of conversation as you would expect in a hotel lobby.

"Good morning, ma'am," the bellhop calls over to me, and I politely return the greeting, then I move to the sliding doors which separate the hotel and the outside world.

"There she is." Carter's happy voice emerges from behind me, so I turn around to face him. The anguish must be quite clear on my face, as his expression changes when he sees mine. "Jesus, who died?" he asks, jokingly.

Me. I died. From embarrassment.

"You're hilarious." I roll my eyes at him.

"Thanks, Alice. You're not the first person who’s told me that." He beams at me once again. If nothing else, he’s broken some of the tension I was feeling.

"Coffee?" I ask.

"Coffee," he replies.