Page 23 of Faking the Pass
For a long moment, we just looked at each other.
Then Presley, still frowning, said, “You’re not gonna be able to find a room tonight. The hotels in Eastport Bay are always booked up at this time of year, even without a celebrity wedding in town. Even if you could manage to get to one safely, I doubt they’d have an open room.”
There was a long pause. “Just stay here tonight.”
“No. Absolutely not,” I protested. “I couldn’t impose like that. I’ve already—”
“Think about it, Rosie. What are your other choices?”
Presley cut me off, looking and sounding exactly as grouchy as one might expect of a guy whose home and surgical recovery had been violated by a high school acquaintance he probably barely remembered.
“It’s either you take my car and drive drunk—not my favorite option,” he said. “I drive you under the influence of pain medication—not tempting either. Or you go out to the street in that t-shirt and that bejeweled thong and those ice princess heels and hitchhike.”
Gesturing behind me to the bed, he said, “Or… youcouldstay here in my nice, safe house and crawl back into that nice, warm bed and go back to sleep. You can leave in the morning.”
I glanced back at the exceptionally cozy bed.
My head ached. My feet definitely didn’t want to get back into those shoes.
All the energy drained from my limbs, and I sagged in defeat.
“Thank you, Presley. I can’t take your bed from you, though.”
He held up a hand, brooking no argument. “It’s not a big deal. I have a couple of extra rooms. I’ll just sleep in one of them tonight.”
He reached out as if he might be about to place his big hand on my shoulder then dropped it to his side again.
“Do you need a toothbrush or anything?”
Cringing, I looked up into his spectacular light hazel eyes. “I’m a drunk, rude, jilted bride with no career, and Ialsohave bad breath?”
One corner of Presley’s mouth lifted. “Your breath is as fresh as daisies in the springtime.”
“Liar.”
“I’m just saying… if youdoneed a toothbrush at any point tonight or in the morning, there are a few new ones in the top right drawer in there.”
He nodded toward the connected bathroom. “Toothpaste, too. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
I sighed. “Just the restoration of my dignity and a complete do-over of the past six months of my life. And maybe some ibuprofen.”
“The ibuprofen, I can do,” he said with a light chuckle. “I’ll be right back with that and a bottle of water.”
Chapter 6
Don’t Go Out There
Presley
The pain medicine they’d given me post-surgery usually knocked me right out, but not tonight.
I lay awake for a long time, thinking about Rosie.
I thoughtI’dhad some bad luck. Poor girl. I’d only blown out my shoulder during what was supposed to have been a record-setting season.
Her whole life was destroyed.
And no one should spend their wedding night alone in a strange house.
