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He groans and swats at me, trying to get me to let him go, but I just hold on tighter.
“Stop yelling, you banshee,” he murmurs.
“Coop. Seriously. Why the fuck do we have wedding bands on our fingers? Is this some kind of joke? Did Magnus put you up to this?”
“Who’s Magnus?” he murmurs.
“My brother, you fucker.”
He wrenches his hand free of my grasp and holds it up to his eyes. They cross slightly as he does, causing him to wince.
“I dunno. Don’t remember anything.”
I sink onto the bed and my head falls into my hands as I try like hell to recall last night but come up blank.
“You need to remember something,” I croak, and he just turns onto his side and groans.
“Can’t even think right now. Hurts too much.”
I stare at him, at his tan skin from being in the sun, his cum-coated ass cheeks, and feel my body warm.
My breathing comes out in desperate pants.
“Ugh. Stop breathing like that. You sound like a stalker I once had. Just calm the fuck down.”
“Can’t. Can’t breathe.”
He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and grunts.
“Jesus. Straight guy panic is so annoying. For fuck’s sake. It’s like you were just given a deadly diagnosis.”
I drop my head between my knees and inhale deeply, trying to keep my breathing even. Don’t need to pass out only to wake up with my face in his crotch. That would be just my luck.
“Matthew, seriously. Chill. Check your phone. See what you can find there.”
“In a minute,” I murmur, and Coop sighs, grabbing my phone and sticking it in front of my face to open it. I should be more annoyed that he’s flipping through my phone, but I don’t care at the moment. He can see all my dirty little secrets if something on there reveals why the hell I have a wedding ring on my finger.
“Oh, nice nudes,” he says with a laugh, and I feel my face heat to epic proportions.
“Fuck off.”
“No, but really, who are these for?” he asks. “They’re really hot.”
“Stop fucking scrolling backward, you asshole. Scroll forward.”
He huffs, taking his time, little snorts of laughter spilling from him as he scrolls. I took those pictures for my ex. I’m regretting saving them now.
Finally, after long minutes, when my heart rate has finally come down and I can breathe more steadily, he gasps. “Oh.”
“What?” I ask, lifting my head to stare at him. His eyebrows are raised and he has a shocked look on his face. It doesn’t last for long as his mouth pulls up into a grin.
“Oh, straight boy, you are so married to me.”
He angles the phone toward me, and I see a picture of the two of us in some kind of Elvis-themed chapel, our lips connected in a sloppy kiss. Just Married is in neon lights off to the side.
“What the fuck?” I blurt, my lips parting. “This is a fucking joke. It has to be.”
Coop looks unperturbed by this and just shrugs. “I mean, I never imagined ever getting married, and in an Elvis chapel no less.”
