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I startled when the door pushed open and a sleepy Carmen staggered in. One eye still closed, he rubbed at the other one. His hair was rioting in every possible direction from a hard sleep, and the erection tenting his boxers couldn’t be missed.
“Morning,” he mumbled as he shuffled past me to go to the separate toilet section of the villa’s expansive bathroom. He closed the door behind him, and in a few beats, I could hear him relieving himself. The occupants in the neighboring villa might have heard him as well, because the sound was incredibly loud.
Is that a man in there or a horse?
I chuckled at my nonsense and leaned in closer to the mirror to survey the damage.
Normally I would expect bloodshot eyes and super dry skin, but this morning I actually had several bruises on my face, neck, and what I could see of my body peeking out from the towel.
Was there a brawl?
Wouldn’t be the first time for that, either.
While I quickly searched around the bathroom for the luxurious white robe the hotel provided, Carmen shuffled to the sink to wash his hands. Even after peeing, his dick stood at attention.
When he cleared his throat, I realized I had stopped mid-tie of the robe’s belt to stare at his physique. Not going to lie, the man looked good…until I noticed his shirt.
GROOM
I shot my eyes to his left hand, and sure enough, a green jelly band was on his ring finger too.
I popped my eyes up to find him staring at me via the mirror, and my shoulders dropped low.
“What did we do?” I croaked in the most pathetic voice, rubbing my throbbing forehead in distress.
“Got irresponsibly drunk, for starters,” he answered cautiously.
“And?” My voice pitched higher by the slightest bit, but my volume shot considerably louder than it had been.
He recoiled from the decibels and answered sheepishly. “Looks like we caught the wedding fever that’s been going around.”
“How can you be so calm?” I barked.
“Should I be overreacting like you?”
“Overreacting? You think this is overreacting? Dude, you haven’t seen overreacting,” I warned with a bit of smugness.
“Oh joy,” he muttered while drying his hands.
I stood and glared, but getting upset was amping up the pain in my brain. I needed to calm down before I burst a blood vessel. Instead of continuing the pointless conversation, I pushed past him and stormed out into the room.
There had to be a minibar in here somewhere.
Hair-of-the-dog approach was not one I normally practiced. But if ever an evening of alcohol-soaked mistakes needed to be forgotten, it was this one. I’d just throw back a shot or two and be in a much better headspace to deal with this fuck-up.
Of course the high-end hotel didn’t just have a minibar in the room. Nope—this bad boy was fully stocked with normal-sized bottles. I struggled with the top of the vodka I randomly grabbed until my husband easily snagged the bottle from my grasp to help.
Well, I thought he was going to help.
He set the glass bottle on the end table with a definitive thunk and met my confusion head- on. And whoa…not sure what was going on… Could the residual liquor in my system have been messing with me? The guy seemed to have gained about three inches in height as he stood defiantly guarding that Ketel One bottle.
I assessed him, starting low at his bare feet and moving inch by inch up his muscular body. How had I not noticed this body before? Carmen wasn’t hulking and beefy, but he was fantastically toned and, dare I say…very appealing.
I had already brushed my teeth, so I couldn’t blame the sudden dry mouth on last night.
I tried to speak, but all that came out was a squawk of a sound. “Wha—” After a solid throat clearing, I gave it another go. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t think that’s the way to handle this,” he said while giving me a disapproving scowl. Honestly, the expression looked a lot like something my parents would bestow upon me when they disagreed with my behavior.
