Friday Las Vegas, Nevada
Thud.
Thud. Thud. I’m trying to figure out why a jackhammer has been implanted inside my skull.
Because you did two tequila shots again in that casino after winning four thousand dollars at a slot machine.
That was after drinking at least four glasses of champagne because people k ept offering them to us and we
were having so much fun.
Why, Lila, why? The waiters were wearing togas and everything looked like a Roman palace.
That’s the last part of the evening I actually remember. Damn it. I swore I’d never to do this again. Colton’s
laying next to me in bed. He’s on his stomach, his arm slung around a pillow, the sheet low across his back.
Those wide, tanned, sculpted shoulders really are a work of art, I can’t help noticing. I love his ink. His dark
hair’s a glorious mess. I can tell by the evenness of his breathing that he’s still asle ep.
Thud.
Thud. I need some Tylenol pronto. And enough water to drown a camel. Once Monday morning rolls around,
young lady, you are not touching alcohol for a month.
Agreed. I get to the ridiculous marble and gold bathroom and close the door. I should be used to this by now,
but this hotel room is our most luxurious yet. Our bed even rotates. I vaguely remember spinning around on it last
night. Jumping on it.
Jesus, Lila. You need to calm down. The thought of spinning around makes my eyes water and my stomach
lurch.
Oh no. I barely make it to the toilet in time, hurling not just once but twice. It’s mostly liquid. Alcohol,
hopefully. I don’t remember eating dinner. All I remember is that they were serving endless free drinks at the
casino and I obviously partook in the debauchery like it was going out of style.
Damn it. I actually feel a little better now. I flush the toilet, wash my hands, rinse out my mouth, take two
Tylenol, drink two glasses of water, brush my teeth for around ten minutes, pee (realizing only then that my thighs
are still wet from Colton’s overflow), decide to take a shower and n —
Wait a minute. What the hell? What the hell is this on my finger? The biggest, shiniest diamond ring I’ve ever
seen in my life. Oh my god. I’m getting flashbacks now. We wandered down the strip, laughing. There was a
wedding chapel. And a Tiffany’s. He bought me the biggest ring they had. Wait. We got married. No. No no no no
no no no no no no.
Holy shit. We got married.