Page 7 of Hitched at Randy’s (Diner Days)

Seven

Cam

“ N ice place, it’s uh …”

“A mess?” I joke, finishing Evan’s sentence. “Sorry, I would’ve cleaned up if I knew I’d be having visitors.”

“Cam, it’s fine.” Evan’s hand lands on my shoulder. “A bit cluttered, yeah, but no big deal. I’ve seen worse. I was gonna say it’s very you.” The corner of his lips lifts into a small smirk.

“Thanks, I think.” I drop my bag, letting out a yawn. It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to crash. Too bad it’s such an odd hour. I pull my phone out to send Ash a message that I won’t need her to feed Donnie as I walk over to his tank. He’s asleep on a log, not even awake enough to care that I’m back.

“So, this is Donnie?” Evan asks, looking at my turtle.

“Yup. Come on, we should get some more sleep. We’ll find a lawyer to call in the morning.” I wave Evan toward my bedroom, but I’m not sure this is such a great idea. Sure, we shared a room in the hotel, but this feels more intimate having him in my bed. Even if Evan is right that neither of us should sleep on the couch. That thing isn’t the most comfortable on the best of days.

Evan doesn’t seem to have the same issue as he strips down to his boxers. I know it shouldn’t bother me to see him in this state of undress, and for the most part it doesn’t. It’s more the fuzzy memories of us kissing. We were too drunk to do anything more than sloppily make out on our wedding night , but even the memory of that has me confused. Sure, the alcohol had a part in it, but I remember Evan kissed me back rather enthusiastically. It’s probably better for both of us to let it go, I tell myself as I turn off the light and kick off my shoes. Letting out a sigh, I take off my pants and T-shirt, dropping them in the basket as I make my way across the room. Thinking too long about everything that happened when we were drunk is borrowing trouble. We’ve got enough of an issue with the marriage and impending divorce to worry about.

Evan is far enough away that his body isn’t touching mine, but this time I don’t ask to hold him. I can do this without making things weird. Still, Evan falls asleep first, and I’m left listening to his light snores as I try to pass out. I don’t know when I actually manage it, but I must at some point, because next thing I know, I’m waking up to the bright morning sun streaming in through the blinds. It’s lighting up the room enough for me to see my limbs tangled in Evan’s and my body wrapped around his back. His ass pressed firmly against my crotch. He’s still sound asleep, but that doesn’t make my situation any easier. My T-dick is hard with all the wrong thoughts about my husband .

I need to stop that train of thought before it even begins. Evan isn’t interested, and the sooner we get divorced, the sooner he’ll be out of my bed.

Evan rolls over to face me, and his eyes slowly blink open. “Mornin’,” he whispers. He looks so adorable half-awake, it takes all of my willpower not to kiss him. I need to get out of this bed before I act on these bad ideas.

“Good morning, uh, coffee?” I blurt out in one sentence as I scoot to the side of the bed, tossing my legs over and climbing out of bed before Evan has a chance to answer. I swear I hear him laugh, but I don’t stop on my way to the kitchen. My coffee cup is already in my hand when Evan catches up to me, and I’m pressing buttons on the Keurig machine to get everything started. Evan’s arm goes around my waist, and I nearly jump.

“You okay?” he asks. “Did you not get enough sleep?”

“I’m fine,” I say probably too quickly. “Just all thrown off from the plane trips and time changes. I’ll be better after coffee.” It’s an easy little white lie, and it slips out of my mouth like nothing.

Evan helps himself to a coffee mug, setting up his coffee as mine finishes. “Alright, so what’s the plan? Should we look up lawyers in the area after breakfast?”

“Did you want to see Ash first?” I ask. Am I avoiding the topic? Possibly, but I also think we should talk to his sister. It’ll be easier to do damage control if we’re on top of the situation. That means starting with Ash since we know she saw the picture. I know she’ll give us shit for getting drunk-married but all in good humor. The main thing we need to know is if she’s spilled the beans to anyone else.

“That might not be a bad idea,” Evan agrees. “We can meet up with Ash first.” He pulls out his phone, tapping on the screen.

I take a sip of my coffee, letting the caffeinated liquid hit me and waiting for it to wake me up. Maybe then I can stop looking at Evan’s trail of hair leading down from his belly button … Focus, Cam. Now isn’t the time to think of running my fingers down Evan’s happy trail. Or how nice the bulge in his boxer briefs looks. Dammit. I shake my head.

It’s like all these thoughts are just popping into my head because I know he’s off limits. He’s engaged, I remind myself. To a woman, no less. Evan has no interest in staying married to me. The sooner I get that through my head, the better. It’ll make this whole thing easier.

“Ash says she can meet us at Randy’s for breakfast in about an hour. How’s that sound?” Evan asks.

“Sure,” I agree. That’ll give us time to wake up a bit and get ready. “I need to shower.” I drain the last bit of coffee from my cup and head to my bedroom. Luckily, Evan doesn’t follow me. I need a moment to myself to get my head on straight. I push through the motions of my quick shower, only realizing when I turn the water off that I forgot to grab clean clothes. It shouldn’t matter. Evan’s seen me in my underwear. Why is a towel any different? Which all ends up a moot point when I get to my bedroom without running into Evan at all.

I drop my towel and grab a pair of boxers, but my hand hesitates over my packer. It’s not something I wear all the time, but sometimes I need a little confidence booster, and I think today is one of those days. I grab the silicone limp packer and shove it into the hidden inner pocket of my underwear. With that in place, I look over at my reflection in the mirror. Aside from the scars on my chest, my reflection looks passable. I used to be self-conscious about my scars, but that doesn’t bother me anymore. I gather clothes to wear at a slower, relaxed pace. At this point, I don’t care if Evan walks in. It’s nothing he hasn’t already seen. I’m pulling on my shirt when I hear a knock on the doorframe, and when I look over, Evan is standing there watching me with a soft grin on his face.

“I’m just about ready,” I call to him as I grab a brush, running it through my wet hair.

“No rush,” Evan says. “Just need to grab something from my bag. Didn’t want to sneak in without you noticing.” He walks across the room to rummage in his bag, and that’s when I notice he’s already changed clothes. He must have gotten dressed while I was in the shower. He pulls out a belt, threading it through the loops of his jeans. I find myself looking over Evan and taking in his well-dressed appearance, the way his polo shirt fits snuggly with no pouch of a belly. The belted jeans make it look like he’s ready to go to some business casual meeting rather than us going to a diner. It’s a contrast to my old holey jeans, a Legend of Zelda T-shirt, and beat up tennis shoes.

“Ready,” I say, shaking off my comparing thoughts. We head out to my car and make the short drive to Randy’s diner. Evan taps out a message to Ash to let her know we’re here.

“I think she’s still on her way. We should get a booth,” he tells me. We walk in together, and, like usual, the soft pastel atmosphere of the diner reassures me. I feel at ease in the pinks and blues that color the walls and furniture. Even though I’m not here with my usual crew of gamers, just being here feels like home. I don’t have to worry about anyone judging me or feeling out of place.

We grab a booth and within a few minutes, one of the servers walks up to us. “Hello, huns, my name is Iris, and I’ll be your server. What will you have to drink?” she asks, handing us menus. Evan asks for orange juice, and I order a coffee. I just have the feeling I’m gonna need it for this conversation with Ash. I’m looking across the room at the door when she walks in, and her eyes meet mine. There’s a broad smile on her lips as she makes her way toward us.

“I can’t believe it,” Ash says, looking from me to Evan and then back again. “You two really did it.”

“All we did was get really drunk,” Evan answers like it’s no big deal.

“Get so drunk you found a chapel and decided to get married?” she asks, placing her hand on her hip.

“Sit down,” I say, scooting down the bench to give her somewhere to sit. Ash takes the spot next to me just as the server shows up again with our drinks. She orders her own coffee and a tall stack of pancakes. Evan orders biscuits and gravy while I get French toast.

It’s not until the server leaves again that Ash asks, “So, what happens now? We’re all supposed to come to your wedding to Viola in a few months, right? Does she know you’re already married?”

“She doesn’t know,” Evan answers. “And with any luck, we’ll have a quick divorce, and she’ll never have to know.”

Ash looks at me, and I focus my eyes on my drink. Even though I know the divorce is the best plan, part of me really doesn’t know what to think of this whole thing.

“So that’s it, huh? Just gonna get a divorce? Mom will be so disappointed,” Ash focuses her attention on Evan again, and he shakes his head at her.

“Does Mom know? Did you tell her?” he asks.

“I didn’t have to tell her. You posted it, remember? It’s not like the two of you were subtle with your little announcement. You think I’m the only one who saw the post?”

“Fuck,” Evan mutters, his hand going to his forehead to rub his temples.

“We’ll work it out,” I say. That’s when the server comes again with our food. We don’t say anything as we take our plates and tuck into the food. There’s an awkward silence as we eat. I know we’re lucky Viola doesn’t know, but part of me wonders if it’s only a matter of time.