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So, I guess I need to pull on my big girl panties…later, obviously, since the minuscule thong I wore to the club last night in hopes that I’d get to show it off to Cash isn’t it.

I brush my teeth with his extra toothbrush—a brand new one still in the packaging.

I find a comb in one of the drawers, and I use it to comb through my hair.

I pull my dress from last night back on.

Did I really get married last night?

In this dress?

I finally grab my phone.

I have twelve missed calls from Everleigh. That’s in addition to the other missed calls and millions of texts that have come through since last night.

Oh, shit.

Instead of looking at my texts or calls, I pull open a browser and type Cash Maddox Vegas Wedding.

And sure enough, there’s a heavily-lidded me in this very dress under the arm of Cash in the first article that populates with the headline “NHL Superstar Center Cash Maddox Marries NFL Star’s Sister in Surprise Vegas Wedding.”

My phone starts ringing again as I hold it in my hand.

It’s Everleigh. Again.

I’m not answering that.

I stare at the picture a moment longer. Maybe we were drunk, but we do make one hell of an attractive couple. Though honestly, Cash could have a yeti on his arm and they’d make an attractive couple.

I locate my shoes, but my feet are not interested in slipping those bitches back on just yet. Instead, I silence my phone and slip it back into my purse, and I head downstairs to find my husband…or whatever we’re calling him now.

I sort of get a little tour of the house as I go. The primary bedroom is upstairs, and there’s a loft space with what I assume are more bedrooms on the other side of it. The stairs are across from the primary room, so I head down. I cross by the front door, and the open-concept plan takes me through a huge entry with a pool table in the middle and a counter with stools on it along the stairwell and toward the kitchen, which doubles as a great room with a huge, open-concept plan that includes a family room space with a couch and television. It’s bright and cheerful while still maintaining a distinct bro flavor—maybe exactly what I’d have pictured for a Cash Maddox home.

He’s in the kitchen, and West and Ashley are in there with him. Ashley is literally hanging on West, and Cash is across the counter from them.

“Hey, there’s my wife,” Cash says, and my face turns the shade of a tomato, which is a lovely contrast to my white dress.

Why did I pick a white dress?

Could I have avoided all of this with one simple color change?

“Too soon?” he asks.

“Too soon,” I confirm. I walk over and nod toward the coffee cup sitting in front of him. “Can I have a sip?”

“You drink black coffee?” he asks.

“When I’m hungover enough, I do.”

He chuckles. “Help yourself. I’m ready to leave when you are.”

“Are you wearing that to the office?” I ask Ashley. I take a sip of Cash’s coffee, and for a second, I get a flash of what life with him could be like.

Sipping a shared cup of coffee in the morning. Maybe a game of pool at his pool table. Staring out at the view beyond his backyard with the palm trees, the mountains in the distance, and the snippet of the Strip I can see from here in this gorgeous house that he’s turned into a home.

“Yeah. You?”

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes.” I shrug.