27. Cherise
Chapter twenty-seven
Cherise
Present Day
Iwoke up with cottonmouth and no recollection of how I got back to my bed. My brain pulsed, trying to evacuate my skull, while the violent light stabbed through the curtains.
I rolled over and ran a hand through my hair. I stopped short when I felt something snag.
I untangled it from my curls and took a look at my hand.
Then froze.
What. The. Fuck!
A diamond ring?
On that finger!
I choked on my own spit, coughing hysterically.
No, no, no, HELL no.
I bolted upright, groaned, and immediately regretted it. The room spun like a busted carousel. My lashes were stuck together with crusted mascara, and I was 98% sure I still had tequila in my bloodstream.
Was I imagining things?
I held my hand back up, ring still perched on my finger. I squinted at the sparkling panic- inducing rock.
HELL. NO!
What did I do? What did I say? Did I actually...?
A memory punched me in the face.
The voicemail.
Me, slurring into the phone, probably confessing my undying love for him.
For Leo.
Shit.
I shot out of bed in full exorcism fashion. “Tell me I didn’t marry Leo!”
“Morning, fiancé.”
I know you fucking lying.
I turned to the doorway, and there he was. Leo. Shirtless. Smirking. Holding a mug of coffee and a water bottle, the epitome of a post-wedding Hallmark movie husband.
I screamed.
Yep.
Full-throated, hands in my hair, Home Alone scream.
I vigorously shook my head. “No. Nope. No. Leo. No. We did not. Please tell me we did not.”
He raised a brow. “Wow. That’s the reaction every groom dreams of.”
“Leo.” I pointed at the ring. “What is this?!”
“It was your idea. A way that we could still be together once we leave here. Derrick can’t say anything if we are married.
Honestly, I thought you were insane at first, but then I thought...
Why not?” he said smoothly, crossing his arms. “After the third time you called me your forever twin upgrade, I was convinced, and you insisted that we seal the deal last night. Said it’d be poetic. ”
“I did not.”
“Oh, but you did. Right after you dry heaved into your glitter box and declared that no man would ever leave you on read again.”
My stomach twisted. “Please stop talking.”
He really revved up the theatrics now. “You grabbed my hand, looked me dead in the eyes, and said, ‘Leo, marry me tonight so I can put this whole Derrick mess behind me.’”
I stared at him, horrified.
He grinned. “We applied for our marriage license online, and then you dragged me to the front desk of the Villa’s resort with one heel on and still wearing one of those glittery penis tiaras and demanded to know if they had a same day soul binding ceremony option.”
“Oh my God.”
“They said no, but you convinced Julio the bellhop to officiate with a paper towel sash and a fake candle from the lobby.”
I was going to puke.
“You cried during your vows. Which, by the way, mostly consisted of you singing Beyonce’s song “Love on Top” until Julio asked if he could go back to work.”
I shoved a pillow over my face. “This isn’t happening.”
“And then,” he added, and I could hear the wicked smile spreading in his voice, “you kissed me passionately, screamed 'we did it, Bitches’ to an empty hallway, and made me carry you back to the room bridal-style while you threw imaginary rice.”
I peeked at him from under the pillow.
“You're lying.”
He lifted his left hand dramatically.
“You tell me, Mrs. Campbell.”
That’s when I noticed the band on his wedding ring finger.
I screamed again.
Leo just stood there. Staring at me. Then I saw it.
The smirk.
A slow lift pulled at the corner of his mouth.
I narrowed my eyes. “You're playing with me, aren’t you?”
He burst out laughing.
“Okay, okay, breathe,” he said, handing me the bottle of water. “We didn’t get married. The resort's lobby had a 24/7 kiosk. I bought it when I went out to get supplies to nurse your dramatic ass back to life. Apparently, a lot of people have shotgun weddings here. Best fifty dollars I ever spent.”
I stared at him.
He grinned wider. “The look on your face was just too good to waste.”
The hangover didn’t leave my body. It evaporated in a puff of pure rage.
“You’re a dead man walking, Campbell.”
I lunged.
He yelped.
“Cherise!”
He bolted, hot coffee sloshing as he sprinted out the door. I chased him through the villa in a blur of tangled curls and vengeance, tackling him in the hallway with a very satisfying oomph as we hit the floor. Coffee everywhere, cup still in Leo’s grip.
We were both breathless from laughter when the door next to us flung open.
Layla barged out. In a towel. Shoving a half-dressed guy out of her room.
The hot guy from the lounge.
My jaw dropped. Leo scrambled to sit up. The guy looked straight out of an Abercrombie ad and had zero shame as he flashed us both a charming smile.
“Morning,” he said.
“Hey,” Leo muttered awkwardly.
Layla’s eyes widened like a deer in headlights. Leo and my gaze ping ponged between the two of them.
Layla tried to slink back into her room until I yelled, “Layla got some dick last night!”
She shrieked. “Cherise, shut up!”
The guy just grinned, tossed Layla a wink, and strolled down the hallway.
Layla slammed her door, face crimson.
Leo buried his face in his hands, snickering.
I lay flat on the hallway carpet, staring at the ceiling, and whispered, “Best bachelorette party ever.”
***
We stumbled back into the room still laughing, shoulders bumping, Leo having to grab the doorframe from laughing too hard to walk straight.
Then the delayed effects of the hangover hit me again.
I groaned and fell backward onto the bed, arm flung dramatically over my eyes. “Okay, joke’s over. My brain is melting. What really happened last night?”
Leo shut the door behind him and leaned against it, smiling.
“You don’t want the theatrical version?”
“No. I want the version that doesn’t involve Julio the bellhop officiating my life choices.”
He chuckled and came to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Well... after you passed out in the bathroom stall, Chelsea called me. Said you refused to get in the uber after arguing with the uber driver about whether or not he had honest eyes, and you were convinced he was going to kidnap you.”
I winced. “Hey, you can never be too careful.”
“Our driver was off duty, so I grabbed the rental and came to get you. You were half asleep when I got there, one shoe on, a fake eyelash on your cheek, and you kept whispering, “Tell Moose I’m proud of him.”
“Oh my God.”
He smiled softly. “You wouldn’t let me put you down. You wrapped around me like a drunk koala and refused to walk. I had to carry you through the resort lobby.”
“Please tell me no one saw.”
“The night manager absolutely saw, and she absolutely judged.”
I placed my pillow over my face and groaned.
“I got you back here, gave you water, put a trash can next to the bed just in case, took your makeup off with a washcloth the best I could, and you fell asleep mid-sentence while telling me how much you loved mozzarella sticks.”
I peeked over the pillow. “I do love mozzarella sticks.”
“I know,” he said gently.
Something about the way he said it made me feel warm inside.
Then it hit me.
My phone!
I sat up slowly. “Where's my phone?”
Leo’s brows pulled together. “We looked everywhere. Your purse, the bathroom, the hallway, and the rental. It was dead and we couldn’t find it. Chelsea thought maybe you dropped it in the lounge.
My stomach plummeted.
“Did I call you?” I asked carefully.
He shook his head. “No. Just Chelsea when the Uber thing happened. Why?”
I paused.
The memory of the voicemail was hazy. Maybe I imagined it. Or maybe I never hit the call button. Perhaps I just drunkenly talked to myself like a lunatic.
Relief washed over me so fast my body went limp.
“Okay,” I whispered, sinking back into the mattress. “Good. Good. That’s good.”
Leo watched me quizzically for a second but didn’t force the matter.
Within seconds, the combination of hangover, emotional exhaustion, and sheer embarrassment dragged me back under.
***
My eyes sputtered open.
My vision blurred a few seconds before sharpening to see a heap of a man inches from my face.
I gasped, jerked so fast my head smacked the headboard. “Jesus!”
Leo didn’t even flinch. He just smiled. “Hey there, sleepy head.”
“Leo,” I croaked, shoving his shoulder, “back the fuck up. That shit is cute in the movies. Not in real life.”
He burst out laughing. “How do you feel?”
“Like I got hit by a bus.”
He grinned. “Hmm, better than your earlier answer of ‘I feel like death.’ I’ll take that as progress.”
I nodded. “What time is it?”
He glanced at his phone. “Twelve.”
“Twelve?!” I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Damn, I was out that long?”
“You were down for the count. I did check to make sure you were breathing at least twice.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
He shrugged like it was no big deal, even though it absolutely was. I knew taking care of drunk me was no easy feat.
“No problem,” he said.
He shifted onto his back and folded his hands behind his head. “So, what’s on the itinerary today, Captain Chaos?”
“Well,” I said, flipping back onto the pillow, “it’s the day before the wedding, so I figured everyone would be half dead after last night. So… rehearsal at three, rehearsal dinner tonight… That’s it.”
He nodded. “That’s manageable.”
I turned my head toward him. “Other than that, I don’t want to leave this bed.”
He smirked. “Netflix and chill after dinner?”
“Netflix and chill after dinner.”