Page 4

Ava

M y eyes blink open from the light streaming in through the white curtains.

The pounding in my head leaves me a little disoriented.

Trying to clear the fog, I blink my eyes a few times, struggling to keep them open.

My whole body feels like it was hit by a Mack Truck.

I’m never doing a girl’s weekend again in my life.

This right here is why I stay home. Nausea rolls through me and I fight it, breathing through my nose.

It’s then that I realize there is a soft snore next to me.

Why is there a snore next to me?

My heart starts hammering away when I realize I am not alone. Sitting up in bed, I look around to see men’s clothes scattered on the floor along with multiple pairs of boots, one of which I recognize as mine.

Oh no, I'm in a hotel room, but it definitely is not mine. Pulling the blankets down, I realize the oversized white T-shirt I'm wearing is also not mine.

Oh my God. I cannot believe I had a one-night stand in Vegas. How freaking cliché!

My hand flies to my face as I cover my mouth. My fingers brush against my lips, and I get the briefest cooling sensation. Metal touching skin.

Oh my fucking God. Why does it feel like there is metal on my finger? Please, God, no .

I pull my left hand away from my face and inspect the silver band on my finger… Then, I inspect the man lying next to me. He lays face down in a mess of blankets, his broad, muscled back on full display, only his lower half hidden under the blanket.

Maybe this is a joke, and we didn’t actually get married.

There has to be something in this room that can give me some sort of hint at what happened last night.

I throw the blankets off and start looking on tabletops.

Surely, they would need a marriage license even in Vegas.

My hands nervously flutter through the room, flipping over the couch cushions, looking under the scattered clothing.

The room is freaking huge, it must be some sort of suite.

It has a whole formal sitting area with a minibar and a bed big enough to fit about five adults.

It’s bigger than any apartment I've lived in during my adult life.

“Can you come back and clean later?” His deep, gravelly voice makes me jump. He’s either the world’s biggest asshole, or he doesn’t remember.

“Not a cleaner, buddy.” I glare at his stretched-out form, a little extra bite coming through my words, partially from him calling me a cleaner and partially because I am freaking out.

He peeks a sleepy head up and smiles at me. His shaggy brown hair is sticking up in every direction possible. If I didn’t want to throttle him right now, I would find it kind of endearing. “Uh, sorry.” His grin almost looks sheepish.

His reaction tells me this is far from unusual for him. Fantastic.

“My name is Ava. I’m hoping you have more of a recollection from last night than I do.” Right now, he is only looking vaguely familiar, but I’m pretty sure he was the reason I rode that mechanical bull. Unfortunately, that is where my memory runs dry .

“Ava.” He mulls the name over, his eyes pinch closed. “Yes, the cowgirl. I taught you how to ride last night.”

I’m not sure if that is a dirty joke or if I had ridden something other than him last night.

“Yeah, uhm, can you do me a favor and see if there is a little silver band on your left hand?” This pulls him right out of his stupor.

He sits up, the sheet falling and revealing his beautiful, chiseled chest. If this wasn’t such a shit show, I would sit and admire it a little longer because he is built like a Greek God, but I see it when he does: the glinting little silver band wrapped around his finger.

“Fuuuuck.” He stares at his finger with the same incredulous look as me.

The smile that comes to my face is lit with sarcasm. “Welcome to the panic party. Now, if you would like to join me, I’m searching to see if we have a copy of a marriage license lying around here or if this is all a big misunderstanding.”

“Shit, sorry.” He shakes his head, probably trying to shake off the pounding headache if he's anything like me right now. “And sorry for calling you a cleaner. No need to panic. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.” At least one of us has a cheery demeanor this morning.

Waving off his apology, I say, “It’s fine. I’ve checked most surfaces.” Maybe this will go a little faster now that there are two of us.

“I’ll check my pockets from last night.” He rolls out of bed, and I turn my head just as I get a peek at his bare ass. His very nice bare ass, but once again, we are on a mission.

That reminds me to check my purse. Running barefoot through the plush cream-colored carpet, I see it hanging on the edge of a chair. At least I didn’t lose it. Trying to fly home without my ID would be a nightmare .

I hurdle over a pile of clothes. He’s nice to look at, but sure is messy. Ripping open the bag, relief floods me when I see that all that’s in there is my ticket stub from last night, a lip gloss, and my ID. I hold it to my chest in relief. At least that’s one crisis adverted.

I wait for a response, but when I turn, I see he’s put on underwear and holding a piece of paper.

Please be a paper saying literally anything else other than we are married.

“Did you find something?” I question as he reaches up and scratches the back of his head before letting out a laugh. My arms fall flat to my sides; he is quickly becoming more annoying by the second. “Please share with the group what you find so funny.”

“My buddies Weston and Rhett all had a bet on which one of us would get married first.” He points to the floppy, oddly long paper in his hands.

That’s it. I’m going to jail today because I am going to kill him. “This is serious! We are legally married.” My voice raises to an almost hysterical octave.

He rolls his eyes as a buzzing sound fills the room. “Hold on, I need to find my phone.”

I throw my head back and blink up, looking at the white textured ceiling and wondering what I’ve done in a past life to deserve this because what we need is an annulment, but sure, finding your phone is equally important, I guess.

“Why is Doug calling?” His thick, dark eyebrows crease with confusion as he puts his phone up to his ear, and I can hear yelling.

“Maverick, where the fuck are you?” The man I am assuming is Doug, sounds pissed .

His face winces a little as he scratches the stubble on his chin. “Uhm, in my hotel?”

“Did you not see the update to your schedule? You’re due for press in twenty minutes in the lobby. We've been waiting for you for an hour.” The man on the other line doesn’t cease yelling. Maverick has to hold the phone away from his ear to lessen the blow to his eardrums.

He covers his eyes with his hands as his head falls forward in defeat. “Shit. No, I didn’t see. I’ll clean up and be right there.” He hangs up and starts gathering some clothes.

I know this asshole is not about to walk out of here in the middle of this crisis. I stand with my hand on my hip and let out a frustrated breath. “Where do you think you are going? We need to get this figured out. We need an annulment.”

“Yeah, I know that. Let me do this meeting.” He tosses his phone at me. “Put your number in there, and I will call you as soon as I’m done with media today.”

My anger flares, but I put in my number and call myself so I can have his number too, as he slides on a pair of Wranglers and buttons up a baby blue plaid shirt.

“Here.” I hand his phone back, and he slides it into his pocket. He grabs his hat, and a little bit of memory starts to lag back to me. A brief flash of me stealing a hat from his head and placing it on mine. The start of the shit show we’re now in.

He slides on a boot as he half-walks and half-hops to the door as he pulls the other one on. As he makes his way to the door, he turns to me. “Sorry, but I have to run. Take your time. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he is out the door and I'm going out of my mother freaking mind.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” I say to Erin as I walk through my hotel door. The purse slips off my shoulder and lands on the floor with a thunk, not bothering to put it on the bed. Everything has gone to shit anyway.

Erin pops her head up from where she lays on her bed. Mine still sits littered with clothes and hair supplies from last night. Excitement lights up her face when she sees me. “Hey! You’re alive.”

I skip over her pleasantries, my hands going to my hips so she knows I am serious. “What made you think it was a good idea to let me leave with him?”

She scrunches her face the same way she does every time something smartass-y is about to come out of her mouth. Her eyes roll as she says, “Yeah, how dare I let you live your best life and hook up with an insanely hot, famous bull rider. You needed to have fun.”

Balling my hands up in fists, I drop them to my sides. My voice comes out more of a shout, “I was wasted!”

She gives a look that lets me know she isn’t taking this as seriously as she should. “Babe, we all were wasted. Plus, hooking up with a guy from a bar is a rite of passage. You’re just tardy to the inauguration. It’s fun. Live a little.” She waves her hand at me and sits up more in bed.

“Oh well, I didn’t just live a little. I lived so much that I got married . Drunk me decided marrying the cowboy we know next to nothing about was a grand idea.” I hold up my hand as her face pales, staring at the silver band encircling my finger.

She flies out of the bed so fast, her whole body looks like a blur. “ You’re joking.”

The smile on my face is the farthest thing from happy, it’s a blaring signal that I’m one millisecond away from losing it.

“Oh no, you’re looking at the brand-new Mrs. Ryder.

And we didn’t even get a chance to talk about getting an annulment because he’s famous and got called away to do media this morning.

I have to wait until he’s done before we can do anything about it.

” Taking a breath after my rant, I rip the ring off my finger and throw it in the trash can next to the entertainment center.

She paces for half a second before replying, “I’m sure it will be fine.

This happens to people in Vegas all the time.

” She stops in front of me, and a sly grin spreads across her face.

“Soooo, how was it?” I’m assuming she is talking about the sex.

Which, unfortunately, was probably awesome, but I have no recollection of it.

I haven’t had the time to date, which means other areas of my life have been lacking.

Broke the dry spell and probably had the ride of my life, and I don’t even get to remember it.

“I remember literally nothing. The last recollection I have of the night is stealing his hat. Which led to me stealing his name.”

Her nose wrinkles as disappointment floods her features. “Well, that’s a bummer. Maybe before you get annulled, you can have fun one more time.”

“I’ve had enough fun for a lifetime, thank you. I don’t have time for this. I need to get a job. A real job.” I knew Vegas was a bad idea.

“Okay, before you have a complete mental breakdown, go take a shower. Wash off the night and see if you can keep the panic attack at bay. We’ll figure this out. I promise!”

I nod, grab a spare change of clothes, and try to shower off a night full of poor decisions.

My phone rings as I get out of the shower. I quickly wrap myself in a towel, and the steam from the shower encases me. Looking down at my phone, I see it’s my new husband, wanting to figure out how to do the divorce.

My wet hands fumble the phone, but I manage to answer before it goes to voicemail. “Hello?”

“Is this Ava? It's Mav.” His voice no longer has the freshly woken timber but is still deep and slightly raspy.

Oh, thank God. “Yes. This is she.”

“Hey, listen, I have to catch a flight to Dallas.” My jaw nearly hits the floor when I register what he is saying. Is he joking? Surely, he means after we get this figured out. I can’t stay his wife.

“No, we need to get together and figure out how to get this thing annulled. I’m fairly certain we both need to be there.” My feet nervously drag me back and forth across the tiled floor.

“I’ll come to you as soon as I can. I’m sorry, but he’s literally putting me in a car right now. I have to go. It’s not like waiting a couple weeks to get this thing annulled will be a big deal. I’ll text you when I get a chance.”

I angrily press end on the call. How in the world can he not understand how big of a deal this is?

We’re legally married, and he’s just going to circle back when he has time?

And just like that, my super fun girl’s weekend is now the opposite of fun.

I guess I learned the hard way that what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay there.