Chapter 22
The Honeymoon Itinerary
“More shots!” Theo’s girlfriend, Nia, clutches a bottle of tequila in her hand. She wobbles on her heels, and Theo swoops in to stabilize her.
My stomach does a little flip at the loving gesture. Watching them interact is nauseating, with Nia smiling up at Theo like he hung the moon for her. I’m oddly fascinated by their interactions given my limited exposure to happy couples over the years. Maybe there is some hope after all if someone as grumpy and isolated as Theo could look at a woman like that.
I shouldn’t be bitter at my own wedding but seeing as my husband has avoided me as much as humanly possible after we cut the cake, I’m not doing too well. Something shifted in him ever since the church, and I can’t help but wonder if it was our kiss.
“What did we say about tequila?” Theo plucks the bottle out of Nia’s hand.
“That we should never trust a man named Jose.” She crosses her arms with a pout and drops into the chair beside me, making the material of her dress poof around her.
Theo’s chest shakes from silent laughter as he pulls up a chair beside Nia.
Felix grabs the bottle and pours tequila into four shot glasses. “You can’t leave a wedding sober. It’s sacrilegious.”
“You wouldn’t know the meaning of the word,” Theo replies.
“My wedding, my rules!” I pass Nia a shot glass.
“Whatever the bride says goes.” Nia grins as she knocks back her shot. She leans into Theo and whispers something in his ear. Whatever she says has him swallowing the first shot before pouring himself a second one.
He tucks her hair behind her ear and whispers something in return that has her cheeks blushing.
Gross. I grab my glass and pull it to my lips. Except the rim never touches my mouth because it’s stolen straight from my hand.
“I think you’ve had enough.” Adrian’s rough voice does something to my heart rate.
Felix waves the tequila bottle in Adrian’s direction. “Come on. Sit down with us and have a celebratory shot.”
Adrian shoots Felix a scathing look. “I think you’ve done enough celebrating.”
“She’s a big girl. If she wants to drink on her wedding night, it’s her choice.”
“She’s right here.” I stand on my two feet. The room spins around me, and I grab the back of my chair to catch myself. “I’m fine. Stop fussing over me.”
“You smell like spring break in Mexico.”
Something about his comment has me muffling my laugh with a shaky palm.
His lips pull down into a frown. I take a few wobbly steps toward him before clutching onto his tux so I don’t fall over. I use one hand to push the corner of his scowl up into a smile. “There. All better.”
“We’re going home.” Adrian’s arm wraps around me. The move reminds me of our kiss in the church, which only makes my cheeks hot underneath a pound of makeup.
I pout. “But why?”
“You’re intoxicated.”
“It’s a wedding! Our wedding!” I struggle to focus on Adrian’s three heads. “Hey, why aren’t you drunk?”
His three heads merge into one angry version. “Because one of us has some self-control,” he snaps.
“It’s all Felix’s fault!” I blurt out.
“Hey!” Felix throws his arms up.
“He did steal a bottle from the bar. I saw him take it myself,” Theo backs me up.
Adrian points at Theo. “Don’t get me started on you.”
The way the three of them interact has me raising a brow in Nia’s direction. “See. I told you they never get along.”
Nia smiles. “Yet.”
“I like her already,” I say aloud instead of in my head.
“Let’s go,” Adrian snaps.
“Don’t forget to text me! I want all the details,” Nia yells.
I throw her a thumbs-up over my shoulder. Turns out she is the only other person besides Felix and Theo who knows about the whole sham. Not that I would tell Adrian. I’m pretty sure he would murder Theo for risking our big secret like that.
Adrian steers me toward the exit of the ballroom.
“Wait!” the wedding planner yells. “You can’t go yet! We haven’t even tossed the bouquet!”
Adrian lets out the longest sigh ever. My chest vibrates from withheld laughter.
He turns me toward him. “What’s so funny about this?”
“You hate every second of this.”
“Are we getting off on each other’s displeasure now?”
“Like you’re one to judge. That’s your favorite kind of foreplay.”
His reddened cheeks make me smile.
One point for Team Amara.
Tati has the DJ request for all the ladies to gather around on the dance floor for the bouquet toss. Adrian holds on to me as if he’s scared I might topple over due to my unsteadiness. I imagine he only does so because he wants to make sure people buy our marriage.
So much for forgetting about what he said in the church.
My mom passes me the bouquet with a knowing smile. “I was holding onto it for you.”
“You’re the bestest mom in the whole wide world.”
She shakes her head. “Take care of my girl, Adrian. Try to get her to sleep before she enters the drunk crying phase.”
“Tell me she’s joking,” he orders as my mom walks away.
I giggle.
“Fuck me.”
I pat his cheek. “Only in your dreams, sweet husband of mine.”
“Did you burn off all your brain cells tonight?”
“Come on!” a woman yells. “Get on with it, you two!”
I turn around, giving the crowd my back.
“One. Two. Three!” I launch the bouquet over my head.
I turn on my heels and almost slip from the rush, only for Adrian to catch me and pull me into his firm chest.
Firm chest? Ugh. Maybe you are drunk after all.
The bouquet lands in someone’s open arms with a slap. I don’t recognize the woman who caught it, but the crowd around her squeals as they try to latch onto my bouquet with greedy hands.
“Finally.” Adrian moves us toward the door before the DJ announces Adrian's turn with the garter belt.
Oh shit.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
I bristle as he squeezes my hip. Felix slaps a hundred-dollar bill in the DJ’s hand as Theo drags a chair out to the middle of the dance floor.
Felix waltzes over to help me into the chair, being mindful of the layers of lace and tulle swirling around me like a parachute. “Careful, Amara, your husband bites.”
An unobservable blush spreads from my head to my toes.
“I hate you both.” Adrian’s eyes move back and forth between Felix and Theo.
On cue, the DJ plays the most sensual song known to man. My tummy has a thousand little champagne bubbles popping along to the beat, all while my heart rate picks up speed.
Adrian bends a knee and settles into a comfortable position in front of me. His left hand shakes again before he fists it, just like it did when everyone watched us slow dance earlier.
Turns out he is human after all.
I tug him out of his nervous thoughts.
“You look good on your knees, Mr. Sterling.”
“Try to not let it get to your head.” The corners of his lips twitch into that usual Adrian smile. A flash of a camera goes off, catching the moment.
His hand touches my covered thigh, barely leaving a dent from the layers of material. “This is wrong,” he mutters.
“You’re right. I feel absolutely scandalized,” I speak in an off-key British accent.
His head shakes as a noise that I interpret as a laugh breaks free from him. “You’re so drunk.”
“No. I’m buzzed.”
“What’s the square root of 64?”
“Eight, fuck you very much.”
He shrugs. “Sober enough.”
“For what?”
He doesn’t reply as he lifts the fabric of my dress ever so carefully so no one catches a glimpse of me down there. My lungs squeeze, trying to take in oxygen as Adrian disappears under my gown.
“Remember, no hands!” Felix calls out, and the crowd hoots and hollers. Adrian pops a blind arm out and flips his middle finger in Felix’s general direction. A few people laugh while others gasp, probably as shocked as me at Adrian’s rare display of feelings.
I tune them all out, focusing on the heightened experience. The scrape of Adrian’s stubble against my calf. The brush of his hair on the inside of my thighs as he parts them with his head. The feel of his teeth grazing the skin around the garter, accompanied by the press of his soft lips as he clamps down around the frilly piece of lace.
I shiver, and a vibration of his throat tells me Adrian noticed and laughed.
I hate him. I hate my husband so much, he is lucky I don’t choke him with the damn thing once he comes back up for air.
Adrian drags the garter belt down my leg. He pulls out from underneath my skirt with the strip of white lace stuck between his teeth. With an angry yank, he tugs the material from his mouth and launches it in the air without sparing it a second glance.