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“You’re right. It doesn’t. All it was for you was the perfect revenge for what happened with your ex. Well, you’re welcome, Ken. I hope it feels good when you tell him.”
Too much time passes, a thick tension suffocating us until Kennedy’s eyes soften with regret. “Aren’t they supposed to turn away drunk people at Vegas chapels?”
I don’t like other people being upset. Every fiber of my being is mad at her, but my instincts are screaming to make her feel better. I’d much rather see her smile than the hopeless, lost look she’s wearing now.
I find my wallet on the nightstand, empty of all the cash I had on me last night. “I’m fairly certain that I slipped the officiant a couple hundred not to.”
“I cannot believe we got married.”
“Cute story we’ll be able to tell the grandkids, huh?”
She grabs a discarded pillow and chucks it at my face, but I catch it before it can make contact. “There’s nothing cute about this. This was a drunken mistake.”
“I prefer the term ‘happy accident.’”
She shoots me daggers. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I finally have some freedom, and...” Her entire body slumps, her eyes closing with a defeated sigh. “We’re getting this annulled as soon as we get back to Chicago.”
The word Chicago has those brown eyes going wide with worry, dainty hands once again covering her mouth. “Oh my God. I’m going to lose my job.” Her tone is frantic. “I’m going to lose my job. San Francisco is never going to hire me with a termination on my record. What the hell did we do?”
A sheen begins to coat her eyes, so I swallow the distance to console her, but as soon as I open my arms to hug her, she flinches.
Shit.
I keep my hands to myself instead. “You’re not going to lose your job, Kenny. We’ll get the annulment papers drawn up as soon as we get home, and no one has to know about this.”
“As if you’re not going to go running to Cody, Travis, or Kai and tell them about this.”
“Oh, I’m for sure telling those three.”
“Isaiah Rhodes.”
“Kennedy Rhodes,” I mimic.
She closes her eyes in frustration, hands finding her forehead. “Monday. We’ll meet at my lawyer’s office.”
“You have a lawyer?”
“Oh my God.” Head falling back, she exposes that pretty throat and lets out a whine that goes straight to my cock.
No. No it doesn’t because I’m mad at her right now.
“We don’t even have a prenup.”
“Ken, c’mon. I know you’re not going to try to go after my money.”
“Yeah, your money is not what I’m referring to.”
Before I can ask her what in the world that means, that blaring phone starts its ringing again.
She runs towards it, grabbing it off the ground. “Hello? Yeah.” She scans the room as if she were still in utter disbelief of what happened. “Shit. I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes.” Hanging up, she folds our marriage certificate and hides it in her pocket. “I’m going to miss my flight back home if I don’t leave now. We’ll deal with this on Monday.”
Frantically, she scans the room again, looking for her belongings, but anything she came with, she’s wearing. Other than those white heels I carried with us all night. She grabs them off the dresser before looking back down at the sneakers on her feet that I bought her.
Her voice is small. “Thank you for keeping these.”
“You’re welcome.”
Hand on the door, she’s halfway into the hallway before she turns back to look at me with pleading eyes. “Isaiah, I can’t lose this job.”
