Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
RILEY
Kieran Sullivan is nothing short of confusing.
The fact that someone who looks like a GQ model felt rejected by someone like me has me feeling all kinds of conflicted.
If I was smart, I would ignore any feelings that are starting to grow, but it’s clear that I’m anything but smart.
I just have to hope that he’s willing to adhere to our new boundary rules because after a few glasses of champagne, I’m finding it hard to remember why I put them there in the first place.
When he’s not being a complete pain in my ass, Kieran is surprisingly fun to be around, and I find myself genuinely smiling for what feels like the first time in weeks as I fall into step beside him as we head back to our hotel.
The air in Vegas is hot and electric even after sundown, and the Strip is buzzing with music and drunken laughter. It’s mesmerizing and overwhelming all at once.
I cling to Kieran’s arm so I don’t get lost in the crowd because I’m too busy taking in everything Vegas has to offer.
“Hey there, pretty lady.”
Kieran groans beside me, and it takes me a second to realize why.
“Oh, no!” I laugh as we pass a tacky looking chapel with a full-on Elvis impersonator standing outside. “I didn’t think these actually existed.”
“It’s Vegas, what do you expect?”
I don’t know what’s funnier, the middle-aged man wearing a bad wig and a white jumpsuit that has seen better days, or Kieran’s face.
“Well, look at you two lovebirds,” he croons in a terrible accent, flashing us a crooked grin that shows off his yellowing teeth. “How about getting hitched right now, courtesy of the King?”
I’m about to tell him we’re not interested when Kieran’s hand appears on my waist, and he’s pulling me against him. I’m so taken aback by the sudden contact that I barely register the words he’s whispering in my ear.
“What do you think?”
“Are you being serious right now?” I eye the man standing in front of us.
“There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.”
I glance between the blaring neon lights of the chapel, Elvis, and Kieran’s annoyingly gorgeous face.
A spontaneous Vegas wedding was always something I imagined doing on a dare, not under fake names with the guy who kissed me senseless and then emotionally flatlined less than a second later, but here we are. It seems nothing about my life is going to plan, so I might as well just roll with it.
“Fine. Let’s do it.”
The chapel is even tackier than I imagined, and I have to cover my mouth with my hand to stifle my laughter as I take in the red velvet carpet and the flower arch at the end of the aisle made out of plastic roses.
“They really spared no expense,” Kieran mutters under his breath, and my eyes start to water as I try not to laugh.
We hand over the fake IDs Kieran arranged for this very moment, and just like that, I find myself standing in front of Elvis about to commit to spending the rest of my life with Kieran Sullivan.
If it weren’t for the ungodly amount of champagne I consumed over dinner, I’m pretty sure my entire body would be shaking with nerves.
“Breathe,” Kieran mouths before plastering an easy smile on his face.
He looks completely relaxed and unfazed as Elvis launches into the vows with the enthusiasm of a man who’s done this a thousand times before.
Kieran plays along flawlessly, repeating the vows with such sincerity that I almost forget that he’s only playing a part.
I’m the one who almost fumbles the words, my mouth going dry halfway through as I repeat the vows after Elvis.
This isn’t real.
But as I look into Kieran’s eyes, it feels real, and that terrifies me.
“By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada and the spirit of Rock 'n' Roll,” Elvis declares. “I now pronounce you husband and wife!”
Kieran takes a deep breath, and then he’s bending down and pressing his lips against mine. Even though I figured this would happen, it still takes me by surprise, and my entire body freezes as he kisses me.
“You’re on camera,” he murmurs against my mouth.
I throw my arms around Kieran’s neck and part my lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
His arm snakes around my waist as his hand finds the back of my neck, and my body immediately melts against him as his tongue brushes against mine.
It takes everything I have not to moan.
He tastes of champagne and chocolate from our dessert, and it’s intoxicating.
The tacky chapel and Elvis impersonator seem to disappear around us. All I can focus on is the feeling of his hard body pressed against mine. Of how much I want to tear open his shirt and run my hands all over his skin as his mouth devours mine.
But then it’s over, and Kieran pulls away, leaving me practically gasping for air and desperate for more.
My hands rest on his chest, and it takes me a moment to catch my breath.
“Congratulations!” Elvis’s voice sends my reality crashing down around me.
I’m in a daze as Kieran leads us back outside onto the Strip.
The air feels cooler somehow, and I take a breath as if trying to ground myself back in reality. But that’s hard to do when my lips still tingle from the kiss we just shared.
“The entire thing was recorded, just in case anyone questions the legality of the marriage,” Kieran explains.
“Right…”
This was evidence, nothing more.
I feel nothing short of numb as we begin the walk back to the hotel in silence. The lightness of the evening has been replaced by a dark cloud, and I want nothing more than to climb into bed and hide under the covers.
The moment we step inside the safety of our hotel room, Kieran phones Ronan to update him.
I take the opportunity to sneak inside the bedroom to have some alone time, but the sight of the rose petals covering the bed hits me like a punch to the gut.
I knew that Kieran and I would have to announce our fake marriage at some point, but for some reason, looking at the enormous bed covered in rose petals makes this situation feel too real.
What the hell did I just get myself into?
There is no going back. Sean O’Keefe will likely hear of my nuptials within the hour, and the fallout could be catastrophic, not just for my family, but for Kieran’s too.
I think of Ronan’s pregnant wife, and my dinner threatens to reappear.
The Sullivans might have willingly agreed to help me for their own gain, but at the end of the day, if any lives are lost, that’s on me.
I start gathering up the rose petals and shoving them into the trash can. My stomach twists as my thoughts start to spiral, and I know it’s only going to get worse from here.
It was selfish of me to come to the Sullivans for help and even more selfish to agree to marry Kieran, regardless of whether it was fake or not.
“Riley?” I didn’t hear Kieran come in, but I turn and find him hovering in the doorway, looking concerned. He glances at the pile of rose petals in my hands and frowns. “What are you doing?”
Having a nervous breakdown?
“I need these gone,” I choke.
Kieran nods before he comes around the opposite side of the bed and starts clearing up the rest of the petals.
We work in silence, and if he notices any of the stray tears that start to fall down my cheeks, he says nothing.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I mumble, quickly grabbing my pajamas from my suitcase.
Kieran nods, and I leave him to finish cleaning up the petals as I lock myself in the bathroom to try and put some space between us.
I wish I didn’t care about Kieran or our fake wedding or any of it, but I do, and that only makes me cry harder.
My skin feels sticky from the humid Vegas air, and I stand under the waterfall shower until my skin turns pink. The exhaustion goes down to my bones, and I feel like I’ve experienced every emotion possible in the past twenty-four hours.
I wish I could stay in this shower forever if only to avoid climbing into that bed, but my eyelids start to feel heavy, so I shut off the water and towel myself dry before pulling on a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top.
I barely even have the energy to brush my teeth or take my pill, but I force myself to because I don’t want to wake up with stale alcohol breath in the morning.
When I head back into the bedroom, I find Kieran trying to wedge himself into the chair, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants.
I sigh, trying to not gawk at the sight of his abs. “You’re going to break that.”
“I’ll manage,” he mutters without looking at me.
I know I should just leave him to struggle. I know I shouldn’t care if he gets a good night's sleep or not. But I glance at the enormous bed and back at Kieran, and guilt starts to creep in.
He might be a pain in my ass, but he’s still a human being who is visibly struggling because of me.
“Just…get in the bed,” I offer as I climb into the bed myself.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“Like I said earlier, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“And I’m telling you, you won’t.” I pat the free side of the bed. “Just get in, Kieran.”
He looks up at me then, with a deep crease between his brows.
“You’re sure?”
“The bed is so huge an elephant could sleep between us. As long as you stay on your side, I think we’ll both survive.”
After a long pause, he eventually nods before untangling himself from the chair and crossing over to the bed.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he grabs a pillow and tosses it on the floor before pulling back the covers.
“It should be illegal to still have such visible abs after eating a boatload of pasta,” I mutter as he climbs into bed beside me.
The mattress dips under his weight, and suddenly, the bed doesn’t feel so big after all.
“So, you admit you were looking?”
“It’s hard not to when you insist on parading them around all the time.”
Kieran chuckles, and I quickly roll onto my side so that I’m facing away from him so that he can’t see how red my cheeks are.
“I can parade other things around if you’re getting bored of the abs.”
I flick off the lamp. “Go to sleep, Kieran.”
The bed shakes as he laughs, and every muscle in my body tenses.
Even though we’re not touching, heat radiates from his body.
It would be too easy to shift a little closer, maybe brush my thigh up against his or accidentally brush my hand over his stomach or lower…
Don’t think about Kieran.
“Good night, wife,” Kieran whispers into the darkness.
For some reason, those words have my thighs clenching together.
I shouldn’t enjoy Kieran calling me his wife so much, considering the fact that legally I’m not, but I do. It’s like he owns me, and that sends a thrill rushing down my spine, straight to my core.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus on literally anything else.
There are a couple of chapters I still need to review for my economics exam that I should really be focusing on. Yes, that will work.
A negative externality can be defined as…
Kieran shifts beside me, and my thoughts immediately switch from Economic Theory to his huge muscular body.
Would it be the worst thing in the world to turn over and kiss him?
I swallow hard and pull the covers up to my chin as I wait for sleep to pull me under.
This is fine.
Everything is totally under control…
I wake slowly, blinking as the soft morning light peeks through the heavy curtains.
The room is warm and still, and I let out a sigh as I bury myself deeper beneath the covers. But as I shift, I notice that Kieran’s arm is wrapped around me, and I freeze.
His chest is pressed against my back, and I can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath against my neck.
My eyes flutter closed, and I indulge in the feeling of being wrapped in his arms until he shifts, and I realize he’s hard.
“Oh god!”
I launch myself out of bed, tripping on the sheet and nearly face-planting as I scramble away from Kieran, who seems to have woken up.
“Morning.” His voice is gravelly as he rolls over and lazily stretches his arms above his head. “Sleep well?”
I narrow my eyes as I take in his messy hair and smug grin.
“Do you always wake up that… alert?”
He chuckles. “One of the downfalls of being a guy.”
My cheeks burn as I try to look anywhere else but at him.
The sheet has fallen down to his waist, exposing his bare torso.
He stretches again, and I can’t help but sneak a glance as his muscles flex.
The asshole knows exactly what he’s doing.
“There’s plenty more where that came from.” He grins at me.
“Go and take a cold shower.”
“I think it’s you who needs the cold shower.”
From the very dirty thoughts that are spinning around in my head, an exorcism would be a better choice.
“Just…take your shower.”
Kieran chuckles as he throws back the covers and saunters past me toward the bathroom.
I try to keep my eyes down, but when I notice the very visible tent in the front of his sweatpants, I almost choke on my own breath.
It seems Kieran noticed me looking, as he flashes me a wink before closing the door to the bathroom, leaving me to collapse onto the bed in a mortified heap.
This fake marriage thing is actually going to kill me.