Chapter 6
Hadley
My head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it. Throbbing behind my eyes, mouth cotton-dry, stomach rolling in that sick way that only comes after too much tequila and zero water. I groaned, tried to roll over, and froze.
I was naked.
Completely naked under sheets that weren’t mine.
The room smelled like hotel shampoo, whiskey, and sex.
A man was next to me, broad shoulders, dark hair messy across the pillow, breathing slow and deep. Cal. Cal fucking Ember.
Panic hit like ice water.
I shot up, clutching the sheet to my chest, heart slamming so hard I thought it might crack ribs. My phone was on the nightstand, the screen cracked worse than last night. 10:47 a.m. blinked at me.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
Twenty-nine missed calls from Mara. Fifteen texts from Eli.
Eli’s last one, sent at 9:12 a.m.:
Hadley where are you
Mara says you didn’t come home
I’m scared
Please answer
My hands shook so bad I almost dropped the phone. I swiped to call Mara. Straight to voicemail. Tried Eli. Same.
“Fuck,” I hissed, louder than I meant. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
I threw the sheet off, forgetting I was naked, scrambling for clothes scattered across the floor. My jeans were inside-out. Tank top twisted. One sneaker under the bed. I yanked them on anyway, hopping on one foot, cursing under my breath.
The cursing must’ve woken him. Cal groaned, rolled over, squinted at me like I was a bad dream.
Cal groaned, rolled onto his back, arm over his eyes. “Jesus. Volume.”
I spun on him, half-dressed, hair a wreck. “What the hell happened last night?”
“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was gravel, annoyed.
"I have to go.” I yanked my shirt down, fingers fumbling buttons. “My brother, my phone, twenty-nine missed calls. I’m late. I’m so fucking late.”
" Calm down. It’s not even noon.”
“Not even noon?” I spun on him.
“I was supposed to be home by ten! Ten o’clock! My brother is thirteen and autistic and he’s probably freaking out right now because I didn’t come home and Mara’s not answering...”
“Jesus, lower your voice. My head’s killing me.”
“Lower my...?” I stared at him, incredulous.
He cracked one eye open. Hazel, bloodshot. “You’re still here?”
“Excuse me?”
“Look, sweetheart...” He sat up slow, sheet pooling at his waist. No shame. Just irritation. “This was fun. But I got shit to do. Time to go.”
My mouth dropped. “You’re kicking me out? After...after whatever the fuck this was?”
He rubbed his face. “Yeah. I’m kicking you out.” He crossed his arms. “You got what you wanted, right? A night with Cal Ember. Congrats. Door’s that way.”
I stared at him, disbelief burning hot in my chest. “I didn’t want anything from you. I don’t even remember....”
“Then why are you still naked in my bed?” He swung his legs over the side, stood up, completely bare, and walked to the bathroom like I was background noise.
“Door’s that way.”
I followed him halfway, furious. “You think I’m some groupie who planned this? I have a kid at home waiting for me, asshole. I’m not here for your autograph or your dick.”
He paused at the doorway, turned. “Then why the fuck are you yelling at me instead of leaving?”
“Because...” My eyes caught something glinting on my left hand. Thin gold band. Fake diamond chip. Same as the one on his finger.
We both stared.
He looked at his hand. Then mine. Then back.
“What the fuck is that?” he said, voice flat.
I lifted my hand, trembling. “I don’t… I don’t know.”
He stepped closer, grabbed my wrist, not rough, just firm, and held both our hands up side by side. Matching rings. Cheap. Vegas cheap.
His face went pale. “No.”
I yanked my hand back. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real.”
He started pacing. Short, angry steps. “This is your fault.”
“My fault?”
“You were the one all over me last night. Whispering shit. Laughing like it was cute.”
“I was drunk! You were the one saying ‘let’s make it real’!”
He stopped. “I said what?”
“You said you wanted to marry me. Called me the prettiest girl in the world. Then you....” I gestured wildly toward the bathroom. “You dragged me in there, then we left, then… chapel. Elvis. Rings.”
He laughed, short, bitter. “You’re delusional. Or a gold-digger with a good memory. Which is it?”
“I’m not delusional. And I’m sure as hell not after your money. I have a brother to feed. Rent. Meds. I don’t need your rockstar bullshit.”
He paced faster. “This is a nightmare. My team is gonna kill me.”
A paper on the bed caught my eye, crumpled, bright blue. I snatched it up.
Marriage certificate.
State of Nevada.
Our names. Our signatures, sloppy, drunk, but ours.
I shook my head. “No. No no no.”
He snatched it from me. Read it. Face went gray.
“Fuck.”
We stood there, staring at the paper like it might catch fire if we glared hard enough.
The door burst open.
Holland first, then Jake, Kei, Zariah, wearing Holland’s band tee, way too big on her, and Sydney.
Zariah’s eyes went wide when she saw me. “Had? Oh my God, you’re alive.”
Sydney’s gaze flicked between us, then to the rings, then to the certificate in Cal’s hand. Her lips curled.
Kei stepped forward, phone out. “You two need to see this.”
He turned the screen.
Headline after headline.
Cal Parker of THE EMBERS Marries Mystery Woman in Vegas Chapel at 3 a.m.**
Embers Frontman Ties the Knot—Who Is She?
Blurry photos, us outside the chapel, laughing, rings flashing. Me in his arms. Kissing.
Cal groaned. “How the fuck...”
“Paps were everywhere yesterday,” Jake said.
“They’re swarming the lobby. Security’s holding them back, but it’s a circus.”
Holland rubbed his neck. “We need a plan. Fast.”
Sydney crossed her arms. “She planned this. Obviously. Gold-digger. Saw her chance, got him drunk, dragged him to a chapel. Classic.”
I spun on her. “I didn’t drag anyone. We were both wasted.”
She laughed, cold. “Sure. Poor little dancer sees a famous guy, spreads her legs, gets a ring. Manipulator. Slut. You think we haven’t seen this before?”
Zariah lunged. “Say that again, bitch.”
Holland caught her around the waist, pulled her back. “Z, don’t.”
Zariah struggled. “Let go! She’s talking shit about my best friend!”
Jake snapped suddenly, voice sharp. “Sydney, shut up.”
The room went still.
Sydney blinked at him like he’d slapped her.
“Excuse me?”
“I said shut up,” Jake repeated, jaw tight.
“You don’t know what happened. None of us do. So, stop talking like you were there.”
Her lips trembled instantly. “I’m just trying to help. I’m trying to protect him and this band and you’re yelling at me for it?”
Tears welled in her eyes, glossy and fast. She shook her head, backing up a step like she’d been wounded.
“I can’t believe you’d take her side over mine.”
Cal moved without hesitation, stepping forward and pulling her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, shoulders shaking.
“She’s right,” he said quietly, rubbing her back.
“Everything she said. This girl’s a problem. She saw an opportunity. Took it.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
Zariah stopped struggling, stared at Holland. “You’re not gonna say anything? Your ‘childhood friend’ just called my best friend a slut and a gold-digger, and you’re standing there?”
Holland looked torn. “Z… it’s complicated.”
“Complicated?” Zariah’s voice cracked. “She’s twenty. She has a kid brother waiting at home. She’s not some schemer. She’s scared. And none of you are defending her.”
Sydney sniffled louder.
Cal rubbed her back. “Syd’s family. She’s been here since day one. She’s looking out for us.”
The door burst open again.
Two men, one fat, red-faced, in a polo stretched tight over his gut, and a woman in a sharp blazer. Manager and PR, I guessed.
The fat man exploded the second he saw us.
“Calvin! What the hell were you thinking? You go rogue, get married in a fucking chapel, and now every news station from here to New York is calling for interviews. You’ve turned a sold-out Vegas show into a goddamn tabloid circus!”
He turned to me. “And you. Miss… whatever. I’m Mitch. Manager. If you two had just relaxed and let us handle it, we could’ve profited. Exclusive photos, interviews, reality spin-off maybe. But no. You had to go full drunk Vegas.”
I blinked. “Profited?”
Cal stepped between us. “It was a mistake. We’re nothing. It is a drunken mistake on my part "
His phone started ringing. Family probably. He groaned, silenced it.
Kei took it gently. “I’ll talk to her. Buy you time.”
Sydney lifted her head from Cal’s chest. “Why don't they have an annulment as soon as possible. That’s the only way.”
The PR woman, blonde, clipboard, shook her head. “Too scandalous. Instant headlines: ‘Embers Singer Dumps Wife After One Night.’ We’ll look unstable. Fans will turn.”
Mitch nodded. “She’s right. Hold off. Two weeks. Lay low. No interviews. No statements except the one we release. Let the heat die. Then annul quietly. Clean.”
Cal stared at him. “Two weeks?”
“Two weeks,” the woman confirmed. “We’ll say it was a whirlwind romance, you’re taking time to adjust, private bliss bullshit. Buy breathing room.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. I have to go home. My brother...”
Zariah stepped forward. “I’m going with her.”
Holland caught her arm. “Z. Can we talk? Alone? Please.”
She looked at me, eyes pleading. “Had…”
I swallowed. “It’s okay. Go talk. I’ll be fine.”
She hesitated. Hugged me hard. “Text me the second you’re home. Promise.”
“Promise.”
They stepped into the hallway. Door closed.
The room felt smaller.
Mitch turned to me. “Car’s waiting downstairs. Back exit. Security will get you through the paps. Keep your head down. No comments.”
I nodded numbly.
Sydney waited until the others started filing out, manager barking orders, PR woman on her phone, boys murmuring.
Then she cornered me by the door. Voice low. Venomous.
“Stay away from him. From all of them. You got your fifteen minutes. Don’t push it. Or I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of trash you are.”
I stared at her. “You don’t scare me.”
She smiled, sweet, poisonous. “I should.”
She walked away.
Security hustled me down service stairs, through kitchens smelling like grease and bleach, out a loading dock.
The car waited, black SUV, tinted windows.
Paps were already there. Flashes exploded the second I stepped out. Voices shouting.
“Miss! Over here!”
“Is it true you trapped Cal?”
“What’s your last name?”
I ducked my head, climbed in fast. Door slammed.
The driver peeled out.
I pressed my forehead to the cool window, tears burning.
Rings still on my finger.
Married.
To a man who hated me.
And the whole world knew.