Page 57 of Rebound
Even with my pounding skull, I know something is terribly wrong. I force myself to sit up, my stomach roiling at the motion and making me regret my decision immediately. Squinting at Jules, I ask her, “What’s wrong?”
She’s using these silly little nicknames on me and that’s extremely suspicious. At most, we call each other girl, babe, or sweetie. Sunshine, princess, baby doll? Never. It’s almost like she’s trying to soften the blow. Jules sets her e-reader down and crumbles the sandwich wrapper into a ball.
“What do you remember about last night?”
Gosh,she’s going to make me think when I’m this hungover? This is cruel and unusual punishment. I wrack my brain and all I get is a jumbled mess of images. Leaving the club with Roman. Slots. Talking with Roman. Drinks roulette? A cute guy. The bartender?
I wince as I open my eyes again. “Not much. I think we played slots and had a lot to drink.”
Jules eyes me carefully. “You don’t remember anything else?”
I must have done something really embarrassing for her to be acting like this. Did I make an embarrassing video and upload it to my social media? Am I viral for all the wrong reasons? Oh fuck, this year is not going my way.
“Was it something really bad?” My voice is small as my brain works overtime to try to remember what I did. Which is really hard to do with a hangover. My head feels like someone is jackhammering into my skull and trying to liquify my brain. I clutch my head with one hand, trying to keep everything inside.
Jules sits up all the way and swings her legs off the bed and onto the floor, crossing her legs primly and stacking one hand on top of the other.
“Do you remember when you said ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’ and I said ‘Vegas is not the Bermuda Triangle’?” Jules removes imaginary lint from her knee, and I realize she’s playing with me. I’m her helpless victim and she’s having the time of her life.
“Yeah…”
She rolls her lips between her teeth and picks up a piece of paper off the nightstand between our two beds and holds it out to me. Gingerly, I take it from her hands and look down at it. At first, the words are nothing more than ink on paper. I blink several times to clear my vision, and slowly they start to register.
Marriage certificate, it reads across the top.
My stomach plummets to the pits of hell. I read the rest of it.
“This is to certify that Lavinia Callahan and Roman Maddox were united in marriage…”
I trail off as my stomach churns and bile rises up my throat. There’s no stopping it. I’m going to throw up. I toss the paper aside and make a mad dash to the bathroom. I bend over the toilet as all of last night’s bad decisions come rushing up my esophagus.
Jules is behind me, rubbing my back in circular motions as she holds back my hair with her other hand.
“If it makes you feel better, you look really happy in the photos.”
That makes me puke harder and Jules winces. I know it’s delusional to still hold out hope for a grand love affair after, well, all of my exes. I blame my parents. They are grossly, ridiculously in love and they still look at each other like they did in all the photos from when they first met.
They set me up with some really unrealistic expectations to the point where I think lovecanbe like the novels Jules writes. Except that is fiction and everything ends happily no matter what. And this is real life, where I apparently get drunk and married to a man who habitually gets into fights on the ice, but also turns my insides into liquid.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I groan, sitting back. “I should have stayed with you when we came back instead of leaving with him. It was supposed to be a fun night where I didn’t have to worry about what everyone thought, and I didn’t have to be perfect. I’m never doing anything spontaneous ever again.”
Maybe this is the universe punishing me. I was careless last night, letting myself be seduced by Roman’s presence and this is where it landed me. How am I going to explain this to my family? What will my brother say? I should have gone back to the VIP room with Jules instead of dancing with Roman.
“I’m sorry I left you alone with the guys,” I whisper, grabbing her hands.
Jules’s expression softens a little, eyes dropping to our joined hands. “If I can’t get a grip on my trauma for half an hour, I might as well stay home.”
“Jules, it doesn’t matter whether it was three minutes or thirty minutes. You deserve to feel safe, always.” God, I can’t do anything right lately.
“I was safe.” She swallows, lifting her eyes to mine as her face twists. “Drew kept the guys on the other side of the room. No doubt because he was trying to save them from me.”
They might not like each other, but I know my brother will keep Jules safe if I’m not there.
“Good. I shouldn’t have left you with them.”
“Please, I know the guys. Kai is in our apartment every week and he’s the sweetest.”
Jules won’t lie to me, so I take her at her word, even as my stomach churns with guilt. There is a knock on the door, and we exchange a panicked glance.
