Chapter 13
Thirteen
Zoey
I walk out of the lobby toward the pool, where most of my family members have probably gathered. At least most of them. If not, they’re at the beach, which means I can go to my room to regroup before meeting them.
I look up at the hotel and see the balconies that overlook the beach, knowing all of them have been rented for our family. The family vacation started before I can even remember. Since most of my family was in hockey, the only time everyone was officially off was in June, so all family vacations were done during that time. It was a time everyone always dreaded, but once we were there, it was always, and I mean always, the best time. The kids would run on the beach or go to the pool, and the teenagers would always be in some type of war with one another, competing and playing games to see who was far superior. Then leading to the adults getting involved to negotiate, but slowly, it would end up with the adults included in the game.
I see a server coming out from the side with a tray filled with mixed drinks. “I’ll have one of those.” I hold my hand up as he walks my way, wearing his uniform of blue pants and a Hawaiian shirt.
“This is the specialty drink—” he says, handing me a napkin.
“Is there booze in here?” I ask as I take one of the tall yellow drinks off his tray. The wetness from the glass feels good against the heat of my hand.
“There is tequila?—”
“That’s all I need to hear,” I say, taking a sip of it. The cool slush concoction hits my tongue, and the sweetness follows. “This could be trouble.” I hold it up to him. “I taste no tequila.”
He smiles at me. “Trust me, there is lots of tequila. But if you want, I can bring you more so you can add it.”
I look at the drink, then look up when I hear voices. “Last time I drank tequila, I ended up married.” I laugh nervously before taking another sip. “So I might take you up on that offer.”
He nods at me and hightails it away from me. “Wait, did he think I was going to marry him?” I ask myself as I see him stopping next to my mother and my aunts Allison and Zoe, who I’m named after. All three are wearing black bikinis, not identical, but all with white linen cover-ups. Each of them is wearing a straw hat to hide the sun from their face with sunglasses. I hope when I’m older I have the confidence they have and also their style. I mean, it’s normal for my mother since she’s the stylist to the stars. She started working as a personal shopper when she was younger, then started Zara’s Closet. Now she’s one of the most sought-after stylists in Hollywood. She even has a staff of fifty working for her.
Neither of them sees me yet, but it’s as if my mother knows I’m nearby because she quickly looks my way, then puts both her hands to her mouth. I wait for it, knowing the soft and sweet Zara isn’t going to stay for very long. “In three.” I take a sip of my drink. “Two.” The minute I say two, her hands fall from her face, and she whips off her sunglasses. “One.”
It takes Zoe and Allison a minute to look my way, and their eyes go to me when they do. Zoe’s face mimics my mother’s, while Allison rolls her lips, trying not to smile in my direction. My mother makes her way to me like a bull chasing the red flag in Spain. “Jesus.” I look over to see my cousin Zara walking my way, wearing a bikini top and cover-up around her hips. “Prepare to be hung out to dry,” she mumbles quickly before the women get here. “The plane ride here was so much fun.” She grabs the drink from my hand. “Thanks for that.”
“Zoey Allison Richards,” my mother says between clenched teeth.
“I don’t even think that’s your middle name,” Zara shares, “but you were often compared to her, so she might be confused.”
“I thought my middle name was Parker.” I make the mistake of speaking, and my mother’s eyebrows pinch together even more.
“Don’t you start with me,” she huffs. “Do you know what we’ve been through these past two days while you were radio silent?” She leans in.
“I wasn’t radio silent.” I hold up my hand. “I spoke to Dad.”
“Oh, trust me, I know. Who do you think had to tame his ass?” She folds her arms over her chest. “Who do you think had to talk him and your uncles from signaling the phone chain, followed by getting on a plane and tracking you down in Vegas?”
“Um,” I say softly, “you?”
“You got that right.” She unfolds her arms. “It was me.” She points at herself. “Me, your mother, who had to find out you got married when your brother called and almost had a coronary on the phone. You decided to send him a picture of your wedding at four o’clock in the morning.” I really have to take the time and go through my fucking texts and see who else I sent it to.
“If I can just cut in here for a second. She also posted it on Instagram, so it’s not like she was trying to hide it,” Zara defends. “Should we not take this time to congratulate her on becoming a bride?”
“Stay out of this,” both her mother and my mother snap her way.
“Hey, don’t take it out on me. I have a man who asked for my hand in marriage, and we are getting married next year.” She holds up her hand.
“He never asked for your hand in marriage.” Her mother glares at her. “And why is that?”
“Okay, I think we’re getting off topic here.” She looks at me. “It’s Zoey’s day.”
“Thanks.” I look over at her.
“Just helping you out,” Zara says, as if she actually helped the situation instead of infusing it even more.
“Why don’t we just take a second,” Allison suggests, “and one, ask her if she’s okay.” She looks at me. “Are you okay?”
I shrug. “I guess so,” I answer, not sure what to say.
“She guesses so.” My mother pffts. “Seriously, Zoey, what the hell were you thinking?”
“She was caught up in the moment,” Allison declares. “You are there with the love of your life, and you just want to be together forever.”
“Um…” Zara holds up her finger. “I don’t think we are at the love stage in their relationship.”
“Seriously.” I practically stomp my foot. “Shut up,” I hiss at her.
“What?” She holds up both hands. “I’m helping.”
“Help by shutting up,” her mother says, “and minding your business.”
“Fine,” she pouts, taking a sip of the drink she took out of my hand. “I’ll just be here for moral support.”
“Listen.” I hold up my hand. “I’m so sorry you found out the way you found out. It was not cool.”
“It was totally not cool,” my mother agrees, her voice going soft. “You’re my only child.”
“Um…” Zara holds up a finger. “What about Stone?”
My mother rolls her eyes. “I mean only girl. You are my only girl, and I’ve waited for this day my whole life. To get to go with you and argue over dresses.” Her voice cracks. “And then I’ll just let you choose whatever you want because it’ll be perfect no matter what.” She blinks.
I’m about to hug her when my cousin Zara mumbles, “Incoming.”
We all look over to see my Uncle Max and Uncle Matthew walking my way with my father beside them. All of them are wearing swim trunks and a button-down linen shirt. “They look like that Michael Douglas movie with all his old friends that go to Vegas for their last hoorah,” Zara whispers to me, “but then they probably think they are on the runway for GQ .”
“You”—my aunt looks at her—“don’t you say a word.”
“I’m drinking and enjoying myself. Jesus, Mom,” she retorts, taking the straw in her hand.
“Just say sorry and maybe shed a tear. That might help,” Allison suggests. “Definitely cry. It works every single time.”
“Not every time,” my mother states. “When we put Nair in Matthew’s shampoo, he was not having us crying.” She stands up straight and walks in front of me. “Let me handle this.”
“There she is,” my father says, making his way in front of the other two. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“That sounds creepy AF,” Zara mumbles, and my aunt nudges her.
“Okay.” My mother holds up her hand. “She just got here.” She looks at Max and Matthew. “So you’ll have to save the interrogation for another time. Like, maybe when they leave.”
“I don’t think I can say anything,” Max admits, holding up his hand. “I eloped with Allison, so I was just coming to congratulate my niece.”
“You mean, stole my sister.” Matthew glares at him.
“It’s been over thirty years,” Max says. “It’s safe to say it was a good idea.”
“Thank you for your congratulations.” I walk up to my Uncle Max and give him a hug, and he kisses my head. “I’m sure we will have to have a meeting and a huddle.” I walk over to Matthew. “I’ll even promise not to interrupt you.” I smile up at him, and he shakes his head.
“He got a hug, and I got nothing.” He grabs me and brings me in. “I blame your father anyway,” he says before kissing my forehead.
“Don’t care,” my father counters. “Leave my daughter alone.” I walk to him and hug his waist. “Go unpack and meet us on the beach. Your grandfather is looking for you.”
“Did you guys tell him?” I gasp and look at everyone. Matthew looks up at the sky as if he’s looking for a clue.
“Traitor.”
“He has Instagram,” Matthew finally says. “Maybe if you wanted to keep it a secret, one should not post on social media.”
“I’m going to change. Where is my room?” I ask them, knowing my Uncle Matthew has everyone’s room number ready to rattle off by heart.
“Seventeen thirty.” My father grabs my key card from his pocket. “I wanted to make sure you saw me as soon as you got here.” He points over to the side where the rooms are. “Just walk through there. Every person has a bungalow over the water.”
“As if I could hide anywhere.” I hold out my hands. “We’re the only ones at this resort.”
I grab the key card from him. “I’ll meet everyone at the beach,” I say, turning and making my way away from them before they realize they let me off the hook faster than they should have. I was expecting a little bit more pushback. “Wow.” I look over my shoulder. “They are slipping in their old age.” I make my way over to my room, wondering where in the hell Nash ended up. Walking on top of the wooden pathway that leads to all the bungalows, I spot ours at the very end. Scanning my card before stepping in, I gasp. If my luggage wasn’t in the middle of the room, I would think this was a mistake.
The room is filled with white roses like in the hotel suite where we were married. Every single surface area in the little living room is covered in roses. I walk toward the back of the room, seeing the king-size bed facing a wall of windows that gives you a view of the turquoise water. A hot tub is on the side, with two white lounge chairs right in front of a ladder that leads down to the water. A white square box with my name on it sits in the middle of the bed.
I pull the card out and read the note.
Happy honeymoon, wife.
Love,
Your husband
I shake my head, sitting on the bed to open the box to find a white satin button-down top with matching shorts. It feels like heaven on my hand, and I see it’s embroidered on the left-hand side with my name, Zoey Griffin. “This is ridiculous.” I ignore the way my stomach feels when I read the name as I shake my head, putting the top down when I hear the door slam. “Hello!” I shout out.
I watch Nash walk into the room, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it a million times. “I was looking for you.” He comes over to me, bending and kissing my lips. He walks over to stare out the window before he opens the sliding door all the way. “I just had a head-to-head with your brother,” he says, shocking me.
“There isn’t even any blood on you.” I get up, putting my hands on my hips.
“Why would there be?” He turns to look at me, his eyes a softer blue in the sun reflecting off the water.
“You stole his sister and married her without telling anyone,” I huff. “Wow, it’s like he doesn’t even love me. He didn’t even hit you once.”
He chuckles. “We did exchange some blows,” he admits, and now my eyes go big. “Verbally.”
“Maybe you coming here wasn’t a good idea,” I say softly.
“We’re married,” he informs me, “and I have ninety days for you to fall in love with me. You being here for two weeks cuts into that time.”
“I never agreed to the ninety days,” I remind him. “We still have a lot to talk about.” He walks to me, and I can see the look in his eyes, so I hold out my hand. “My cousin is waiting for me on the beach, and if we do what I think you want to do, everyone is going to know we are in here having sex.”
“We’re married,” he scoffs, “and this is our honeymoon. Of course we’re having sex.”
“Can you stop saying that?” I throw up my hands and walk back out to get my luggage. “And I think we should perhaps not share a room while we figure this out.”
“Okay,” he says, surprising me, “I’ll just sneak into your room at night.”
I open my luggage, grabbing the first bikini I find, and go into the bathroom to change, closing the door behind me. He laughs as I undress and slide on the white bikini bottom with two gold straps at the sides. The matching top is white, and the straps over my shoulders are gold. When I walk out, he’s sitting on the bed with his phone in his hand, and he looks up. “Hmm,” he hums, taking me in from head to toe. “I’m going to fuck you in that bikini before we leave.”
“Great.” I pretend to be annoyed. “Good to know.”
He smirks, then looks back down at his phone. “I have to call my parents.” I stand by my luggage. “The news has hit them.”
“Oh,” I squeak, wondering how this will make me look. What kind of woman marries a man without meeting their family? My heart sinks when I think of the fact his mother could hate me. “I’ll just leave you to your phone call,” I offer, needing to get the fuck out of here. “I’m going to be on the beach.”
“I’ll find you,” he assures me, and I’m about to walk out of the room when he calls my name, “Zoey.” I turn around. “I should give you the heads-up that I sort of maybe threatened your brother.” I blink slowly. “I told him if he made you sad, I would take you away from here, and I’m not kidding.”
“You said what?” I’m not sure if I actually heard what he said.
“If your family wants to be pissed at anyone, they can be pissed at me. But I will not let them shit on you.”
“Um,” I say, putting my hand to my stomach to stop it from freaking out, “okay.”
“If I see you sad, we’re leaving.” He looks back at his phone. “And I’m not backing down on that. They’ll get over it, but in the meantime, they will not make you feel sad.”
“Okay, Nash.” I walk over to him without even realizing my feet are moving. “Thank you for that.” I stand between his legs, and his hands run up the back of my thighs to my ass, and then he holds my hips. “Also, same goes for you, I guess. If you don’t feel comfortable with anything.”
“I can handle that, baby, but you’ve already cried once, and I’m not interested in seeing that face again. Ever.” The air vacates my body, leaving me almost panting. “I’ll meet you on the beach, yeah?” I nod and bend to kiss him. My hand automatically comes up to hold his face, something I’ve always been doing with him, and I don’t even know why. It’s just an extra touch, but it’s an extra touch I love doing. Which is silly and which I will not think about.
I let go of his lips and grab my phone before walking out of the room when he says, “Hey, Dad.” I want to sit and listen to the conversation, but I don’t think I have it in me if they start shitting all over me. I walk away with my head down, heading toward the sound of music and the daybeds by the beach water littered with my family members. Luckily, Zara spots me and waves me over. I have to stop what feels like a million times before getting to her. Everyone is laughing at the fact I eloped, and not one person has said anything negative. Some even give me a high five for doing it the way I wanted to do it.
“I got you a drink,” Zara says, “but I drank it, so the guy is coming back.”
“My sister-in-law.” I see Ryleigh approaching, followed by Gabriella and Abigail. “I’m so excited.” She gives me a hug and gets on the bed next to Zara. “I want to know all the details.”
“Oh, yes, I want to know all the details.” Gabriella slides onto the bed, followed by Abigail. “One, let me see the ring.” She leans over, grabbing my hand and gasping. “Oh, he did good.”
“Damn,” Ryleigh says, “he is not playing.”
“It was,” I start to say and stop when the server comes back with a pitcher of strawberry mojitos, and we each get a glass. I take a sip. “It was a mistake,” I finally say. “I thought the Elvis guy was a fake.”
“Shut up.” Ryleigh snorts, laughing. “But Nash is here.”
“He is.” I look around. “He wants me to give him ninety days to fall in love with him.”
“Oh, like 90 Day Fiancé ,” Abigail says. “Just you’re married already.”
“This is crazy.” I take a bigger sip of my drink. “Two weeks ago, I was dating Josh, who I was with for two years. Who I’m in love with.” I speak the words and immediately feel a guilt I’ve never felt in my life.
“Didn’t you break up with him because he didn’t want to commit?” Zara says, earning her a glare. “I’m just saying, he was with you for two years, and you didn’t even have a toothbrush at his place. You asked him to give you a drawer, and he acted as if you wanted him to build an expansion on his shitty two-bedroom condo.” She looks at me. “And then you have Nash, who married you in less than a week and refuses to let you go. He has my vote.”
“Mine too,” Gabriella agrees. “Josh is a thirty-five-year-old still living his dreams of being frat boy president. Every single time I saw him, he was like ‘want to play beer pong? I bet I can win.’”
I can’t help but laugh because he used to say that a lot. “When he saw I was pregnant, he was like ‘bummer, I guess I’ll drink for you,’” Abigail says.
“Has he even reached out to you since you got married?” Ryleigh asks me.
“He called me a couple of times and sent me a couple of messages,” I admit. “I just have yet to call him or text him.”
“I think once you tell him you’re married,” Zara says, “that will nip that in the bud.He’ll go his way, and in twelve years, he’ll settle down with a twenty-four-year-old because that’s how old his brain will be by then.”
“You should get that phone call out of the way now,” Ryleigh urges, “before the husband comes and doesn’t leave your side.”
“I think you’re right,” I agree, grabbing my phone. “I have to call him sometime anyway.”
“Or you don’t. You block him and forget him.” Zara shrugs, and everyone looks at her. “It’s just a suggestion.”
I get off the bed and walk over to the water's edge, off to the side where no one is, and pull up his number to call him. My heart pounds so hard in my chest, and I feel like I’m doing something I shouldn’t be doing, which is silly.
“What the fuck, Zoey?” he questions as soon as he answers the phone. “It’s been four fucking days.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, moving my foot over the sand. “I’m on vacation with my family.”
“And your husband?” he snaps, and I stand straight as if he just threw ice water on me.
“Um…”
“It’s a joke, right?” His tone is tight and angry. “Just to piss me off.”
I snap, “The world doesn’t revolve around you like you think it does.” I finally let him have it.
“It’s not funny, Zoey,” he hisses.
“You’re right, it’s not funny,” I agree with him.
“So now what?” he asks. I look out into the water, seeing Stone and Ryleigh as they are laughing together, and then look over to see Gabriella on top of her husband Romeo’s back, saying something to make him laugh.
“Well, we agreed we needed space,” I remind him. “You agreed to it by not even trying to call me the next day.”
“So you married the first man you meet?” His laugh comes out bitterly.
“I’ve known him a while,” I counter and close my eyes because it shouldn’t matter. I did nothing wrong.
“You’ve known me for two years. It seems you forgot who I was.” His voice sounds weird. “Time to show you.” It’s the last thing he says before he hangs up on me. I look down at the phone, wondering if the call dropped or something, but I see I have all my bars.
“What the hell?” I stare at my phone when a text comes through.
Josh: Have a great vacation. I’ll see you when you get back. Love you, Zoey.
My eyes stare at the message on the top of my phone. “Hey.” I look up to see Nash come to me wearing just his shorts and nothing else. “Are you okay?” he asks me, and I turn my phone over in my hand so he doesn’t see it.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I put on a fake smile. “I was just checking my voicemail.” I hold up the phone, lying to him and feeling that feeling again. “How was the call with your parents?”
“Okay,” he says, and I can see there must be more to it. “We have to have dinner with them when we get back home.” He looks out into the water. “Want to come in the water with me?”
“Sure, let me go put my phone down, and I’ll be right in.” I turn to walk away, but I don’t make it far when his hand grabs my wrist, stopping me.
“We just lied to each other,” he says, and my heart sinks, “and I don’t like it. In fact, I fucking hate it.” He closes the distance between us. "I know you weren’t checking your voicemail because I saw you talking, and you know that everything isn’t okay with my parents.” He puts his hand around my waist, pulling me to him, not caring who is watching. He’s openly affectionate with me. “If we are going to do this, then you have to call me out on my bullshit, and I have to call you out on yours. And…” He pushes the hair off my shoulder before he bends to kiss my neck. “We have to be all in, or we aren’t giving ourselves a fair chance.” My heart speeds up. “Give me a fair chance, Zoey.” He looks down at me, into my eyes. “Give us a fair chance.”
I don’t know if it’s the way he’s looking at me, or if it’s just because I’m pissed at the conversation I just had with Josh, or if it’s the fact that as soon as I’m in his arms, I feel like I’ve never felt before. Whatever it is, it makes me whisper, “Fine, I’ll give us a fair chance.”