Chapter 22
Adelaide
I knew it.
I fucking knew my bachelorette weekend was doomed to be a disaster from the very second Liam first proposed combining our parties. It was inevitable that things would go wrong.
Marshmello has finished his set by the time I push my way back into the crowd around the DJ booth, and Liam is slurring his words more than he was before I left.
He yells something unintelligible into my ear with a dopey grin and eyes glazed over.
John flashes me a sheepish smile as he throws an arm around Liam to support his balance.
“Sorry, Adelaide,” Tyler apologizes, but he’s snickering. “Guess all those shots really got to him.”
“You guys are the worst,” I say with a sigh. Frowning at my wasted fiancé, I wonder what the hell we’re supposed to do with him. “I think it’s time we head back to the hotel.”
We emerge from the thick of the crowd, gather up all of our belongings from our beach couch, and then head to the ride-share pickup to find the two Ubers I’ve summoned.
We’re all drunk and dehydrated and most likely suffering mild forms of heat stroke.
I need an ice-cold bottle of water and a cool, rejuvenating shower.
Melissa jumps into one car with John and Tyler, and obviously Connor assists me with manhandling Liam into the back seat of the other.
“Stop locking out your legs, dude,” Connor mutters, physically lifting Liam’s right leg and placing it inside the car. He shoves him over into the middle seat, and I move around the car to enter from the other side, leaving a semi-conscious Liam wedged in between Connor and me.
“Were you pouring shots down his throat when my back was turned, too?” I ask Connor, leaning forward to glower at him, unimpressed.
“It’s a bachelor party, Addy,” Connor says with a nonchalant shrug. “Pouring shots down our buddy’s throat is what we’re supposed to do, so yeah. I’m partly responsible for this mess, but there’s a bright side.”
“And what’s that?”
“I think he’s going to pass out,” he says, “and an unconscious Liam is a harmless Liam.”
Oh, for goodness’ sake. It’s no surprise Connor was happy to contribute toward pumping Liam full of alcohol, because I bet this is exactly what he wanted—a Liam Hartman who can’t tell his ass from his elbow, a Liam Hartman who is not going to make it back out tonight.
But Liam’s gurgling his words and his neck is slack and unsupportive, and I’m worried.
“Don’t make me charge you guys a cleaning fee,” our driver warns, watching nervously in the rearview, probably wondering if Liam will projectile vomit all over the fabric upholstery.
“Babe,” I say, pinching Liam’s jaw and angling his face toward me. “We’re going to get you some water. A lot of water.”
“I love you, Addy,” Liam says with a grin, but his eyes flicker open and shut. “I love you, too, Connor.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Connor says. “Let’s get you back to the room.”
I hold my breath all the way to the drop-off point at the rear entrance of the Cosmopolitan, where I only release it once we have extricated Liam from the back seat without incurring any cleaning fees.
Melissa, John and Tyler’s car hasn’t arrived yet, but we don’t wait around for them.
It’s only six, so it’s downright mortifying that Liam is in such a state at this time, like he’s some loser who can’t keep up with Vegas.
As Connor guides him through the hotel lobby with a supportive arm wrapped around his staggering body, other guests stifle their amused laughter.
It’s ironic that Liam is the one embarrassing himself in public after the grief he gave me last night for simply spilling a drink.
I’ve had a lot to drink this afternoon, too, yet I’m still standing.
It’s easy to sober up at the speed of light when the people around you need help, like Evie running off with a guy ten years too old for her, and Liam being on the verge of requiring an IV drip at the local hospital.
“I’ll get him back to the room,” Connor says, hoisting Liam upright. He’s so drunk, he’s nothing but dead weight. “You go grab some waters.”
Nodding, I head off toward the casino floor in search of a convenience store.
There’s a sense of urgency in my steps, and I grab three giant bottles of water and a pack of Tylenol.
I think Liam is going to need it. If not tonight, then certainly tomorrow.
I pay the inflated, extortionate prices without even batting an eye, and then make my way back through the hotel, into the elevator, and up to the twenty-first floor.
I rap my knuckles against the door of Liam and Connor’s room. Moments later, Connor opens it and ushers me inside.
“It’s curtains for him,” Connor says.
Sprawled across one of the beds like a sunburnt starfish, Liam is already asleep on his stomach with his face buried deep into a pillow. I heave a sigh and sit down on the edge of the bed next to him, unscrewing the cap from one of the waters.
“Liam?” I say gently in a quiet voice, my hand rubbing his back in an attempt to stir him to consciousness. “Babe? You can sleep this off, but you need to drink some water first. Here, take some of this.”
With a grumble, Liam lifts his head from the pillow. He doesn’t even open his eyes as I press the bottle to his dry, dehydrated lips and force some water down him. It splashes down his chin and onto the bedsheets. Oops. He’s too drunk to care about the wet spot, and promptly passes back out.
I cast a hopeless look over my shoulder at Connor. He’s watching from the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his chest.
“I don’t think we should leave him here alone.
What if he throws up and chokes to death?
” I ask, glancing back down at Liam with a deep line of concern etched into my forehead.
“I’m going to stay here with him. You can get showered and head back out to meet up with the guys again.
Well, maybe not Theo, because he’s on the loose with Hailey .
. . But I’m sure John and Tyler are desperate to hit the casino again. ”
“It’s your bachelorette party, Addy,” Connor reminds me. “You’re not spending your Saturday night camped out in this hotel room listening to Liam snore off the tequila.”
“He’s my fiancé,” I remind him. “I’m going to look after his sorry drunken ass.” I tighten the cap back on the water and set down all of the bottles on the bedside table alongside the pack of Tylenol. Next time he flits into semi-consciousness, I’ll force those pills down his throat, too.
“I’ll stay with him,” Connor says, and my gaze finds his again. “I’ll keep an eye on him while you go and get yourself a warm shower. I promise he will not die on my watch.”
That’s a big promise from someone who has been actively trying to sabotage his best friend’s relationship.
I shouldn’t trust Connor to have Liam’s best interests at heart, but also .
. . It’s Connor. Our Connor. The world would burn before he’d ever let anything bad happen to the people he cares about, no matter how pissed at them he is.
“Okay,” I agree with a small nod of defeat. Before I leave, I pull off Liam’s shoes and remove his shirt, adjust the pillows, pull the thin sheets over him. I press a quick kiss to his temple and reassure him, “I’ll be back soon,” even though he’s sleeping soundly.
When I brush past Connor on my way to the door, he says, “Take your time. You don’t need to rush.”
But of course I rush—down the corridor, into the elevator, and all the way to my own room.
My head feels heavy with too many worries, because I can never just shrug my shoulders and roll with the waves.
I can’t stand the way this weekend is spiraling out of my control.
Hailey’s perfect plan has gone to hell, Liam is out for the count, Evie is God only knows where doing God only knows what .
. . Don’t even get me started on the unpredictability of Connor and what move he’ll pull next.
Instead of enjoying my bachelorette weekend, I am just a bundle of stress and nerves.
I push open the door to my hotel room and—holy shit.
There’s already someone here. Two people, actually, whose heads spin to look at me in surprise at the same time I jolt backward into the doorframe, hand over my chest in fear. Talk about a damn heart attack.
“There you two are!” I exhale a long breath of relief that the intruders in my hotel room are not intruders at all—they have the familiar faces of Hailey and Theo. She’s hunched over the desk, he’s sprawled out across her bed. “Where have you guys been? Why did you leave the pool party?”
Hailey hastily shuts her MacBook and stands from the desk chair. “Oh, Addy! We’re sorry. We—”
“We weren’t enjoying it,” Theo finishes for her. He pushes himself up onto his elbows on the bed, and Hailey flashes him a stern look, before turning timidly back to me.
“Of course we were enjoying it—”
“No, Hails, we absolutely were not,” Theo interrupts again, and I just stare blankly at the pair of them, wondering what exactly is going on here.
It dawns on me that Hailey has obviously brought my brother back to our hotel room, which is incredibly out of character for her to willingly spend time with Theo.
Is Evie . . . right? Is there something going on between Hailey and Theo?
Unless I’m misreading this, and Theo has somehow barged in here to bug her, which is very possible.
“We left the pool party because it was too loud and too busy, and we didn’t let you know because you were occupied whipping your hair around in the mosh pit,” Theo continues.
“We saw some sights, grabbed some food, and now we’re just .
. . hanging out. Decompression time. Silence and some cool AC. Is that a problem?”