Page 35

I blow out a breath. Those were a lot of questions for me to answer when I’m still not quite awake yet. “We’re in Summerlin, a Vegas neighborhood maybe fifteen or twenty minutes from your sister’s office, so we’re going to need to rush. I can get you to your office on time if you’re okay wearing your dress from last night, but I don’t think you’ll have time to stop home. I do have ibuprofen. I left some out on the counter in the bathroom.” I grab her purse and hand it to her. “Your alarm is the most obnoxious sound I’ve ever heard.”

She moves to pull her phone out of her purse, and she freezes as I think she’s finally spotted the new hardware on her ring finger. She lets out some sound that’s halfway between a shriek and a gasp mixed with a bit of a sob. “What the hell is this?”

I press my lips together. “I, uh…I think we might need to talk.”

She draws in a deep breath, and she lets it out slowly. “Okay. Right. Um, yeah. I don’t have time to talk. I need to get to work on time.”

I nod. “Shower. Use whatever you need. I have extra toothbrushes in the drawer on the right. I’ll be downstairs.”

She looks like she’s either about to cry or panic, so I walk over, and I bend down so my eyes meet hers. I set my hands on her shoulders, and fuck, my horny-ass cock likes that. “Hey,” I say softly. “Take a breath, okay? We’ll figure all of this out.”

She bites her bottom lip and nods, and then she scampers over to the door she must think is the bathroom. “Ope. That’s the closet.”

I can’t help a small laugh as I nod toward the bathroom door, and she heads in.

I forgot Ashley and West stayed the night here, but the guest room door downstairs is wide open, and I spot West’s bare ass as he sleeps facedown on the bed in there.

Duly noted. Burn the room down and be extra sure to destroy the sheets.

I assume Ashley will also need to make it to the office around the same time as Ivy, so I venture into the guest room and pull open the drapes.

“Rise and shine, motherfuckers!” I say with as much fake cheer as I can muster in my current state.

Both of them grunt and squint against the light, and Ashley flips onto her back, giving me a full view of her naked body. I respectfully avert my gaze.

“Ashley, I’m taking Ivy to the office,” I say. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes. Let me know if you want a ride.”

I head into the kitchen to gather together the shit I need for my hangover cure, and West meets me there in just the pants he was wearing last night.

“Put on a shirt, dude,” I mutter.

“Fuck off.”

“Me fuck off?” I ask. “You fuck off! Especially after the stunt you pulled last night.”

“What stunt?” he asks, scrubbing a hand along his jaw.

“Oh, I don’t know. Just the whole fake text, so no receipts and pushing us into a wedding anyway,” I hiss.

He starts to laugh. “Oh, yeah.”

“Oh, yeah,” I mimic. “I had forty-three texts when I woke up. Forty-fucking-three. My own mother has called me six times. My agent, four. My publicist. Coach. The GM.”

He laughs harder.

“You’re a dick. I’m going to get you for this,” I mutter. I dump some pickle juice into a cup.

“You already did. You forced me to get with the puck bunny.”

“I didn’t force you to do shit,” I mutter. I add the splash of bourbon. “You chose to.”

“What the fuck are you making?” he asks when I grab the bottle of Tabasco sauce.

“The old Lochlan cure.” I shake some Worcestershire sauce in and cut a lemon next. I step away to start the Keurig since I’m positive I’m going to need the chaser this morning.

“You’re not serious.”

“Want one?” I ask as I squeeze the lemon. I swirl it around, and I add some salt as I wait for the Keurig to finish brewing.