The Bloke (Men Under Revue #1)

10. Sienna

Chapter 10

Sienna

Inhaling a deep breath, I stretched out and rolled onto my side. The streak of sun shining through a crack in the curtains was blinding, forcing me to shut my eyes before bringing my forearm up as a shield. My head was throbbing from the hangover I knew was coming for me after all that drinking last night.

How did I get home? When? The last thing I remember… oh shit, the show.. .

With a groan of deep-seated regret, I lowered my arm, blinking my eyes open as I peered down to see that this was not my bed. The one I was now lying in was twice the size of mine and wrapped in black silk sheets, but that wasn’t even the worst of my problems this morning.

Something on my left hand snagged in the sheets, and I glanced down to find a ring on my finger—my ring finger.

“Oh no… no, no, no, no, no.” I whispered, my eyes growing wide as they took in the white gold twin band with several sparkling diamonds, accenting a large black raw-cut diamond at the center.

At least, it appeared to be a diamond; it was too dimly lit in the bedroom to tell precisely what it was. I didn’t know if diamonds came in black, but what else could it be? Obsidian?

The stone wasn’t see-through; it was solid black, and that was the only kind of jet-black stone I could think of that might be inlaid in a ring.

What the fuck happened last night? I thought it was all just some sort of fucked up dream. I barely remember anything after being hauled out of the showroom’s back door. Bits and pieces are coming back to me, but the ring?

I slid out of bed, wrapping myself in one of the loose silk sheets, and tiptoed to the bedroom door, peering through the crack to see if anyone was in the hallway. The cold marble floor on my bare feet caused a shiver to trail up my spine.

Whoever’s place this was, it was massive. The bedroom alone was the size of my entire studio apartment. This couldn’t belong to the man from the show. There is no way a male revue dancer could make enough to live in a place like this.

I must have gone home with someone else…

The thought alone of leaving anywhere with a complete and total stranger who I didn’t even remember meeting made my throat close. Bile burned the back of it as my pulse started to race.

The sliding glass door behind me opened, and I jumped in surprise at the sound before turning to see who was entering the bedroom from outside.

“Morning, love.” A heavily accented voice, one that no amount of alcohol or bad hangover could ever erase, gave me a brief moment of relief that was immediately overshadowed by the realization that I did go home with him .

Colby stood leaning against the doorway wearing nothing but low-hanging grey sweatpants and a wolfish smirk. “Or I guess I should call you something else now… wife, perhaps?” He chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and stalking toward me from across the room, his muscles flexing with every step.

Fuck he was gorgeous, and I was a goddamn hungover trainwreck who couldn’t remember a thing that happened over the past twelve hours.

Did we? Of course, we did. I didn’t just sleep naked in his bed and not let him fuck me. Oh, drunk Sienna… why do you do this to yourself?

I pulled the sheet up higher around my body as his bright blue eyes stripped me bare.

This was all just a very lucid and fucked up dream. I wasn’t here, and I wasn’t married to— to him .

My heart was near beating out of my damn chest the closer he got. It was just a dream, and I would wake up in my bed, most likely covered in vomit from all the alcohol.

As I backed away from his approach, Colby stepped into me, caging me against the door, his hands firmly gripping my hips, and he leaned himself into me. I pulled away, sinking my body as far into the door as I possibly could.

“What’s the matter?” He frowned, lifting my chin with his fingers so our eyes met.

“This—this isn’t real. We’re not—” I swallowed, unsure of what to believe, what to say.

The surreality of it all. Men like him didn’t just pick up random women from the bar, and they certainly didn’t marry them hours after… oh god, I let him fuck me with his fingers backstage… It was all coming back to me in bits and shattered pieces.

“It’s very real, and we are.” He attested. His confident smile melted my heart, and I felt like I was about to faint. “Come back to bed,” Colby murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear before taking my free hand and pulling me across the room with him.

I don’t know why I followed him. I couldn’t think between my pounding headache and the weight of the ring that now sat on my finger. Sighing heavily, I pulled my hand out of his and stopped just as he fell to sit on the edge of the bed facing me.

“No. We’re not married. I was drunk.” I admitted shamelessly, gripping the sheet covering me even tighter than before. “There is no way I could have consented to that.”

“Sienna—”

“Don’t call me that,” I shouted, cutting him off.

“Don’t call you what? Your name?” He gazed up at me with those beautiful blue eyes and scoffed sarcastically.

“You don’t even fucking know me.” I barked. No matter how drop-dead gorgeous he was. I couldn’t be married to this man. I knew nothing about him; he could be some fucked up serial killer as far as I was concerned. “I need to go home. Where are my clothes?… my phone?” I glanced around the room frantically, catching a glimpse of my shorts in the far corner.

Colby stood from the bed, towering over my five-five height as he pulled me into his hard, warm body. He was intense, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

What could a man like him want with a nobody like me?

“You are home.” He softly laughed as if this was all just some stupid joke and I was messing with him.

He caught me off guard, and I needed to remember the woman I was, the one I was supposed to have turned myself into.

The fantasy ends here.

“Cut the shit, Colby. We aren’t married; there is no way this was even legal.” I run a hand through my hair, and he roughly grips my chin in his fingers, my eyes flicking to meet his.

Desire burned behind those bright blues; I saw him burning me alive in their reflection.

“Believe it or not, you and I are married. Legally.” He growled, and I could see his frustration with my denial of that fact. “You are my wife.”

Fine. If I was his wife, then he was going to discover just what the fuck he got himself into with me. He’ll be signing the divorce papers soon enough. I’ll make sure of that.

Turning on my heel, I storm over to the corner where I saw my shorts, tossing the sheet aside and roughly pulling on my clothes.

“Where is my phone?” I demanded, placing my hands on my hips.

“You’re not leaving.” He quipped, dropping back onto the bed once more.

“I’m your wife, not a caged animal. You can’t keep me locked up here.” I hissed, running my hands through my messed-up hair. “Give me my phone, or I’ll just leave and get a new one.” I threatened.

It would suck to have to get a new phone altogether, but I’d do it if it meant getting the fuck out of here.

“So you accept it then.” He questioned.

“Accept what?” I gawked.

“That you are my wife.”

“I…” Fuck . “Don’t change the subject. Just give me my damn phone.”

Colby chuckled and gestured his chin to the dresser next to me, where I saw my purse and phone sitting on the edge of it.

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of my ignorance.

Grabbing my things, I headed for the bedroom door, pulling it open.

“Dinn—”

I slammed the door behind me before I could hear him finish what he was about to say, making a beeline to the front door.

I didn’t bother putting my heels on; I just scooped them off the floor as I stormed through the living room.

Of course he lived in a fucking skyline penthouse. I clenched my teeth, took the elevator to the first floor, and pulled my phone from my purse to call my ride out of here.

Lucky for me, Chyler wasn’t as hungover as I had expected her to be, and she picked me up within ten minutes of getting off the phone.

As soon as she reached the curb, I ripped open the passenger door and fell into the seat, taking one last look at the main doors of the building, hoping that Colby didn’t decide to chase me.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, miss—” Chyler started before her eyes fell to my left hand. “Is that a fucking ring?” Her eyes widened, and her voice rose. “Did you get fucking married last night?” Her laughter was not something I needed to hear right now.

“Just fucking drive.” I sighed, sinking into the seat and raising my hands to cover my face. I could feel it growing flush with embarrassment.

“Your place or mine?” She asked, still in just as much shock as I was.

“Mine… I need to get ready for work…”

Without further question, Chyler pulled away from the curb and drove us to my apartment.

She didn’t talk the entire drive, letting me process what had transpired over the last twelve hours before indulging her in all the juicy details. I could see her eyes flicking back and forth from the road to my ring, and I knew she was begging to know what had happened.

Pulling up to my apartment complex, Chyler parked her car in the back lot, and we both got out and headed up to my unit. Again, she didn’t say a word as she followed me inside, but her mouth opened as soon as she shut the door behind us.

“Alright, I gave you the fifteen minutes it took us to get here. Now talk.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared me down.

“Yes, fine, okay. I apparently was so fucked up last night that I got married.” I throw my arms up in the air, tossing my purse across the room in the process.

“To who?” She arched a questioning brow, and I started laughing like a mad woman. I was laughing so hard I wanted to cry. Chyler walked over to me, furrowing her brows in concern, as she gripped my shoulders. “Who, Sienna?” Tears fell down my face as I tried to compose myself enough to answer.

I thought I was a trainwreck earlier this morning, but now I was entirely off the rails.

“Colby.” I managed to get out between sobs.

“From the show?” Her jaw dropped with realization. She was squeezing my shoulders in her hands. “That’s not—”

“Don’t you dare say it’s not that bad that I married a stripper last night.” I choked out, losing my handle on reality. I was just glad I had my meltdown here and not in front of Colby. Fuck my life .

“Well—He’s not technically a stripper—” She mumbled.

“Semantics, Chy,” I roared, shoving her away from me and storming into my bedroom to change.

She followed me and leaned against the doorframe.

“It’s okay, Sienna. We’ll find a good lawyer who can—”

“You seriously believe that I can afford a lawyer right now?” I turned to face her. “Look around, Chyler, I live in a fucking rundown studio apartment. My refrigerator is empty, and my pantry is full of ramen and boxes of mac and cheese. I can’t afford jack shit, let alone a goddamn divorce lawyer.” I sneered.

“I’m only trying to help,” Chyler shouted, her hands balling into fists. “But clearly, you don’t want it, so fuck you too, then.” She pushed off the doorframe and turned to exit the apartment. “Call me when you are level-headed and done being a bitch.”

The door slammed shut, and I fell onto my bed, crying until I could no longer think or breathe.

GOD-FUCKING-DAMNIT!