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Chapter One
Matt
Iwake up with a throbbing headache, my mouth feeling like the driest desert and tasting like sewer. A groan escapes me as I peel my eyelids back, trying not to move too quickly because the nausea is real. I drank far too much last night.
Far too much.
“Fuuuuck,” I moan when I try and sit up, my stomach sloshing. The room comes into view in bits and pieces. The two queen beds, a small sofa in the corner, the large window covered by blackout curtains.
Right. I’m in a hotel. In Vegas.
I shift in bed and realize I’m not wearing any clothes. Not that that’s anything new. I often sleep naked. Nothing better than cool sheets against warm skin.
Rubbing at my chest, I feel something catch on my fingers. Glancing down through swimming eyes, I see that my thigh, cock, and pecs are coated with… Is that dry cum? What the hell?
“Shit,” I mutter when I feel someone move next to me. Their legs knock against me, and I peel the covers back.
Underneath them is Coop, looking just as wrecked as me. His reddish brown hair is rumpled, his dark lashes just now starting to flutter open. My gaze roves over him, and I see cum on his face and arms. My mind reels as I try and understand what’s happening, but I can’t.
I can’t fucking understand this.
With a trembling hand, I drag the covers off him, making him whimper in annoyance.
Holy shit. Is that cum on his ass cheeks?
My stomach churns, and I feel bile creep up my throat. With urgency, I hop out of bed, making it to the toilet just in time to let the contents of last night spill into the bowl. Alcohol and, oh yes, more alcohol is brought up until I’m just dry heaving. My entire body is shaking and I feel sweat bead on my forehead.
I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.
What the hell happened last night, I think as I grab some tissues and wipe at my mouth. My back hits the wall, the cool tile beneath my bare ass making me shiver. I think I’m dying, or in a nightmare.
Not sure which is worse.
My hand rubs down my tired, hot face, and that’s when I notice it.
A ring.
On my left hand.
I stare at it for far too long, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest.
What the fuck?
What the fuck is this?
Since when am I married?
On shaking legs, I scramble up and trip my way back into the bedroom, finding Coop half-awake now and sprawled face up on the mattress, his limp dick stuck to his thigh, completely comfortable showing me his goods.
But then again, Coop seems to give zero fucks about anything. Ever since meeting him two weeks ago, I realized this rich, spoiled boy always gets his way and is never told no.
I mean, I tell him no every time I see him, just to make sure he’s brought back to reality. Life is never that easy. I even told him no when he asked to carpool to Vegas together.
He just rolled his eyes and told me that he knew my car was in the shop and I had no way to get there. I’d fought the entire way, making sure he knew how much I didn’t appreciate the lift.
Without warning, I grab his left hand and hold it up to my face, staring at the silver band settled on his finger. It’s too fucking much. The room tilts, and I stagger on my feet.
“Coop,” I hiss, my voice nearly inaudible. “Coop. What the fuck is this?”
