19. Lavinia
NINETEEN
LAVINIA
I come to consciousness so suddenly my head spins. One second, I’m dead to the world and the next my brain starts firing off and I sit up, completely unaware of my surroundings. There’s a pounding in my head and the bright lights are hurting my eyes.
I groan and fall forward, hiding my face. What is happening? Am I dead? Is this hell?
“Good morning, sunshine.”
The voice is familiar. I know it, I’ve heard it my whole life. I turn my head slightly and groan again because even that is too much effort and has my stomach rolling.
“Jules,” I sob. “What happened?”
Lifting a hand, I put a finger on an eyelid and force it open. I find Jules lying on top of her bed, wearing the hotel provided bathrobe. Her hair’s been washed and dried and she’s chewing on a breakfast sandwich as she reads on her e-reader.
“What time is it?” I wince at the sound of my voice. It sounds like I swallowed a frog last night.
“Just a little after eleven, princess.”
I clutch my head as the pounding refuses to stop. I can’t remember the last time I slept so late. I’m usually the first one up between the two of us. I go for my run, get us coffees, run errands, all before Jules even wakes up.
“My head is killing me.”
“I assume it will be, baby doll.”
Even with my pounding skull, I know something is terribly wrong. I force myself to sit up, my stomach roiling at the motion and making me regret my decision immediately. Squinting at Jules, I ask her, “What’s wrong?”
She’s using these silly little nicknames on me and that’s extremely suspicious. At most, we call each other girl, babe, or sweetie. Sunshine, princess, baby doll? Never. It’s almost like she’s trying to soften the blow. Jules sets her e-reader down and crumbles the sandwich wrapper into a ball.
“What do you remember about last night?”
Gosh, she’s going to make me think when I’m this hungover? This is cruel and unusual punishment. I wrack my brain and all I get is a jumbled mess of images. Leaving the club with Roman. Slots. Talking with Roman. Drinks roulette? A cute guy. The bartender?
I wince as I open my eyes again. “Not much. I think we played slots and had a lot to drink.”
Jules eyes me carefully. “You don’t remember anything else?”
I must have done something really embarrassing for her to be acting like this. Did I make an embarrassing video and upload it to my social media? Am I viral for all the wrong reasons? Oh fuck, this year is not going my way.
“Was it something really bad?” My voice is small as my brain works overtime to try to remember what I did.
Which is really hard to do with a hangover.
My head feels like someone is jackhammering into my skull and trying to liquify my brain.
I clutch my head with one hand, trying to keep everything inside.
Jules sits up all the way and swings her legs off the bed and onto the floor, crossing her legs primly and stacking one hand on top of the other.
“Do you remember when you said ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’ and I said ‘Vegas is not the Bermuda Triangle’?” Jules removes imaginary lint from her knee, and I realize she’s playing with me. I’m her helpless victim and she’s having the time of her life.
“Yeah…”
She rolls her lips between her teeth and picks up a piece of paper off the nightstand between our two beds and holds it out to me.
Gingerly, I take it from her hands and look down at it.
At first, the words are nothing more than ink on paper.
I blink several times to clear my vision, and slowly they start to register.
Marriage certificate, it reads across the top.
My stomach plummets to the pits of hell. I read the rest of it.
“This is to certify that Lavinia Callahan and Roman Maddox were united in marriage…”
I trail off as my stomach churns and bile rises up my throat. There’s no stopping it. I’m going to throw up. I toss the paper aside and make a mad dash to the bathroom. I bend over the toilet as all of last night’s bad decisions come rushing up my esophagus.
Jules is behind me, rubbing my back in circular motions as she holds back my hair with her other hand.
“If it makes you feel better, you look really happy in the photos.”
That makes me puke harder and Jules winces. I know it’s delusional to still hold out hope for a grand love affair after, well, all of my exes. I blame my parents. They are grossly, ridiculously in love and they still look at each other like they did in all the photos from when they first met.
They set me up with some really unrealistic expectations to the point where I think love can be like the novels Jules writes.
Except that is fiction and everything ends happily no matter what.
And this is real life, where I apparently get drunk and married to a man who habitually gets into fights on the ice, but also turns my insides into liquid.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I groan, sitting back.
“I should have stayed with you when we came back instead of leaving with him. It was supposed to be a fun night where I didn’t have to worry about what everyone thought, and I didn’t have to be perfect.
I’m never doing anything spontaneous ever again. ”
Maybe this is the universe punishing me. I was careless last night, letting myself be seduced by Roman’s presence and this is where it landed me. How am I going to explain this to my family? What will my brother say? I should have gone back to the VIP room with Jules instead of dancing with Roman.
“I’m sorry I left you alone with the guys,” I whisper, grabbing her hands.
Jules’s expression softens a little, eyes dropping to our joined hands. “If I can’t get a grip on my trauma for half an hour, I might as well stay home.”
“Jules, it doesn’t matter whether it was three minutes or thirty minutes. You deserve to feel safe, always.” God, I can’t do anything right lately.
“I was safe.” She swallows, lifting her eyes to mine as her face twists. “Drew kept the guys on the other side of the room. No doubt because he was trying to save them from me.”
They might not like each other, but I know my brother will keep Jules safe if I’m not there.
“Good. I shouldn’t have left you with them.”
“Please, I know the guys. Kai is in our apartment every week and he’s the sweetest.”
Jules won’t lie to me, so I take her at her word, even as my stomach churns with guilt. There is a knock on the door, and we exchange a panicked glance.
“Do you think it’s Roman?” I whisper.
“I’m going to check.” Jules stands up and goes to open the door.
I flush the toilet and stand up, looking at the face of horror in the mirror. My make-up has shifted all over my face, my hair looks like birds have used it to nest. I shudder and pick up my toothbrush, scrubbing my mouth clean.
“It’s past eleven in the morning,” someone says, and I realize it’s Drew. Hearing his voice sends panic coursing through me.
I married my brother’s teammate! And not even one he approves of!
Oh god, oh god, oh god. Why isn’t Vegas the Bermuda Triangle? Then the Earth will open up and swallow me whole and I can pretend none of this ever happened.
“I know it’s a hard concept for you to understand, but there is such a thing called vacation on which people relax and sleep late and eat all the unhealthy food they can’t eat in their real lives,” Jules replies, sounding put off.
“This is my sister we’re talking about. When was the last time she slept past six and ate greasy fast food, even on vacation?”
I grab the cleanser, rub off last night’s make-up and splash cold water on my face.
“You can’t come in here, I’m naked!” Jules cries.
She’s probably fully dressed under her robe. I use a towel to wipe the water off my face and the gold band on my finger catches my eye. It looks odd on my finger. Even having worn an engagement ring for close to a year, this wedding band feels different. Heavier. Permanent.
I’m married. Eight months later and to the wrong man, but married, nonetheless.
Before I can overthink it and cause myself to throw up again, I dawn the other bathrobe and step out of the bathroom.
“I’m here, I’m here. There’s no need to fight.”
The door is only partially open, and Jules is standing guard at the threshold, not letting Drew in. I grab the door and allow her to walk away so I can talk to my brother.
“Hey, what’s up?” I cringe inwardly at how chipper I sound.
Drew frowns, his eyes taking in my features. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m great. I had a bit more to drink than usual.”
I hate lying to my brother. Other than Jules, he’s my best friend.
We’ve been together since the womb, and you have a special relationship with a person you grew limbs with.
We learned everything at the same time and went through the same development stages together.
Lying to him feels like lying to myself.
I twist my left arm behind my back and cross my fingers like a child.
Drew makes a motion to come into the room and Jules yells out, “Naked!” as if she can sense him through the Force.
“If it’s an invitation, I don’t care for it,” he calls out.
Jules peeks around the corner. “You’re not the Callahan I would invite into my bed.” Then she winks at me and disappears back behind the wall.
Drew rolls his eyes, looking at me. “I don’t know how you put up with her.”
“I’m an acquired taste, Andrew. One you will never have to worry about,” Jules says.
Drew is one second away from blowing the vein in his forehead.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, drawing his attention back to me.
Drew’s green eyes are a similar shade to mine, and they look at me with a familiarity that is only earned in utero, apparently. “Roman looked a lot better than you. I wanted to make sure you were fine after last night.”
My heart thuds against my chest. “You saw Roman? What did he say?”
Drew raises a shoulder in a shrug. “Nothing. He said he left you here after you guys had a couple of drinks. I don’t trust him at all, so I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
I rest my head against the door. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You also look like you had more than a couple of drinks.” Drew inhales deeply. “Look, I’m not going to tell you who you can and can’t be friends with, but can you please be careful with him? I don’t know what you find so fascinating about him.”
“I like the way he makes me feel,” I say quietly.
Drew makes a face like he swallowed something bad. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
“He’s not as bad as you think he is,” I defend.
“Tell that to dad and his limited edition sixty-thousand-dollar whisky.”
I flinch. Really, I should have known he’d bring this up and I can’t defend Roman here because he did steal my dad’s limited-edition whisky. Not that I exactly stopped him. I’m such a mess when it comes to him.
“Fine, let’s hold that against him until the day we die,” I say. “And then we can have it engraved on his headstone. Here lies Roman Maddox: he once stole a limited-edition bottle of whisky.”
“The only good thing I can say about Roman is that he’s better than Josh, which really isn’t saying a lot. You have terrible taste in men. Just be careful.”
Too late for that.
Placing a kiss on my head, Drew tells me they’ll be leaving for the airport soon because they’re flying out for another away game. I close the door after him and turn to face Jules.
“We have to find Roman before they leave.”