Page 20 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

“Fuck me,” I groan, flopping onto my back as the weight of yesterday starts to crash down.

I got drunk yesterday to forget. To forget about Duncan. His lies. The wedding I ran from. I didn’t want to remember a single thing.

It was a bandage on a problem that needs an amputation.

So now not only do I have to deal with the fall out, I have to do it with a raging hangover.

Super.

Just as I'm wondering if I can ask Cap if I can move in—all in the sake of avoiding my problems—I hear a vibration from the nightstand next to me. By habit I look over to see that it's my phone. And it's plugged into a charger. And it's next to a pair of boxer shorts and a T-shirt.

Did he do that? He had to have. I don't even remember to plug in my phone at night when I'm sober and my battery is at five percent. And the clothes? Are they for me?

Why is that simple gesture hitting me so hard? I’m talking straight in the feels. Maybe because he didn't have to. Maybe because in nearly four years together, I can't remember Duncandoing anything like that. Maybe because I'm overly emotional as I feel everything starting to come back to life.

But no matter how I feel, it's sweet.

He's sweet.

Oh Cap…poor, sweet, didn't-sign-up-for-yesterday, Cap...

I don't know why he's single, but the ladies of Nashville are missing out. If my drunken memory is serving me right, he said he built this house himself. Which is fucking hot. Oh, and he does nice things like plug in cell phones for drunk girls he randomly meets and gets suckered into taking care of.

This man should be scooped up and accounted for. Not by me. No. I'm a hot mess. But by someone.

And she'd be the luckiest girl in Nashville.

Buzz...buzz...buzz....

Shit. My phone is still vibrating. And another one. And another one.

Without even looking, I'm going to guess the family text chain is in full effect.

"Time to pay the piper, Stella," I say as I grab the phone off the charger. "You've avoided life long enough."

Mom: Stella Leigh Banks. Enough is enough. We let you have yesterday, though I was worried SICK. Answer your phone.

Ainsley: Stella, just send one letter. Or an emoji. Anything to let us know you're alive. I'm really worried.

Quinn: See! You worried Ainsley.

Maeve: Not that I'm not worried about you, I'd just like to say that you ran, and therefore I won the bet.

Simon: Stella, I'm going to need you to come over to Mom's house because I've been wanting to kill Duncan for a day now, but I can't kill him without justification, so I'm going to need to know things very soon or I'm going to be going to jail and then you're going to leave my new daughter without a father. Is that what you want? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT, STELLA?

Stella: Sheesh. Enough of the dramatics. I'm here. I'm alive.

Ainsley: Oh, thank goodness. You didn’t have your location on so I was trying to keep a positive outlook. But after a while I naturally assumed you were dead.

Stella: Not dead. Just hungover, so dead would be better.

Mom: Stella! Did you get drunk?

Maeve: No, Mom, she ran away from her wedding and planted a garden. Of course she got drunk.

Simon: Where are you? Do you need a ride?

Yeah, that's exactly what I need: My brother driving to a location I'd drop him because I don't know where I am, only for him to be greeted by the man who owns this house whose name I don't actually know.

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