by Mj Fields
“Me, too, brother. Me, too,” Trae says as they walk away.
Christa and I sit down at the nearest slot machine and wait. I can’t help wondering what they are up to as I watch them walk up to Coach.
“Wanna play?” Christa asks, snagging my attention.
I look at the machine. “I’ve never played before.”
“Well, we’re in Vegas, so let’s do this.” She pulls her credit card out of her bra and swipes it through the machine. “Come on; Mama needs a new pair of shoes.”
I don’t know how long we play, but when the guys return, there are three empty glasses in front of each of us, and Trae and Parker both look pissed.
“Everything okay?” I ask, trying to look around them to see Coach.
“How drunk are you?” Trae asks.
“Pft.” I laugh.
He looks at Parker. “Let’s take them for some fresh air.”
Once outside, I kick off my shoes. “I can’t walk in these.”
“Sweet thing, your pretty, little feet will get nasty.” Trae squats down. “Hop on.”
I grab my shoes and do just that. Then I feel someone grab my ass.
“Relax, Court,” Trae says when I try to swat the hand away. He taps my ass to show me he was the one who grabbed it. “I’m just making sure no one can see your ass.”
“It’s so cool up here. Do you think the air is cleaner?” Christa says.
I look over to see she is on Parker’s back.
“I wish I had a whip.” I laugh. “I’d smack my Stallion’s ass.” I playfully kick him with my heel. “Giddy up, Stallion. Take me to the next bar!”
***
TWO HOURS LATER, I AM wasted—totally fucking wasted—and so is Christa. Trae and Parker aren’t much better. Hell, I threw my shoes out and bought some blinged-out flip flops because he wasn’t walking straight.
“Oh, look!” Christa points at something. “It’s Elvis!”
We run up to Elvis and ask him to sing. He says something about only singing for weddings.
That’s when I look up to see we are in front of some sort of chapel.
“I’ll marry you if Elvis will sing for us,” Christa tells Parker with a laugh before turning toward Elvis. “Do you take credit cards?”
When Trae hands me another drink, I kiss him.
“Ooo, you two should get married,” Christa jokes. “Elvis, will you sing for my bestest friend in the whole world while she marries her hot Stallion?”
“Well, of course I will.” Elvis winks, making us laugh hysterically.
I wink at Trae. “Let’s get married, just for the season.”
He laughs. “Right now?”
“Fuck yes, right now!” Christa squeals, dragging us inside.
We dig through a closet full of props, all four of us throwing on hats and oversized glasses. We look completely ridiculous, but it’s so much fun.
“Now, who’s paying for this little wedding?” Elvis asks in that voice, and we all laugh again.
“It’s on me,” Christa says, handing him her gold card.
“We’re playing dress up, Elvis,” I tell him, slurring through my words.
He winks. “Aren’t they all, darling, aren’t they all?”
Christa places some papers in front of Trae and I. “Sign your souvenirs. Now, say cheese!”
Within minutes, we are all singing, “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” along with fake Elvis, and at the end, Trae kisses me, and we fall to the ground, still kissing and now laughing.
***
I WAKE UP FULLY DRESSED, in a hotel room, in a Jacuzzi, on top of Trae.
“Oh, God...” I moan, grabbing my head.
“Fuck...” he groans.
“Shut the hell up!” Christa cries, covering her head with a pillow. She’s on one bed, and Parker is on the other.
I grab the side of the tub and try to pull myself up, but my hand hurts. I look down to see my finger is wrapped in cellophane. And I see ink!
“What the hell?” I look closer.
Wrapped around my finger, it says, “His Season.”
Loud bangs on the door startle Parker. He sits straight up, cursing, “What the fuck?” Then he gets up and stumbles to the door. “What the hell is going on?” I ask.
“Court, you gotta get up. You’re sitting on morning wood,” Trae grumbles. “I need to piss, sweet thing.”
I pull myself up, and he grabs my hips from behind and pulls my dress down.
“Cover that ass before I assault you.”
As I get out of the tub, he stands and steadies me.
I look at him as he rubs his hand over his head then cringes. He looks at his finger.
“Shit.”
“The vans leave for the airport in twenty minutes,” Coach Landry says as he walks in. “And, Courtney, your folks are looking for you.” He looks at me in disappointment.
I look around for my purse, but it’s nowhere to be found.
“What time is it?” I mumble as I grab my stomach.
“Ten in the morning,” Landry answers.
I look at my wrist. “Where’s my watch?”
“You threw it out,” Parker says, stumbling around as he throws his clothes into a Stallion’s duffle bag.
“I what!” I ask too loudly, needing to hold my head.
“I grabbed it. It’s here somewhere,” Parker mumbles.
“We need to get our shit,” Christa says, nearly in tears. “My fucking head.”
“Ellen and Ron are packing you two up,” Landry tells her. “Courtney, they’re not happy. There are pictures all over the internet.”
I look at Christa accusingly.
“I didn’t post anything,” she says defensively, holding her hands up in surrender. “Well, at least, I don’t think I did. What the hell happened last night?”
Landry huffs, pointing at me and Trae. “Before or after those two got married.”
Trae, walking out of the bathroom, looks at me. I look at him. Then we both look at our fingers. His is wrapped, too. What the hell?
“No. No, it was...” I pause, trying to remember. Then it hits me, coming back full force. “We were joking around!”
“That’s one hell of a joke to play, Mrs. Rhodes,” Landry chastises. “Now get your shit and let’s go. You’re gonna need to get in contact with your lawyer as soon as we get back.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Oh. Fuck.
TRAE
“OH, FUCK,” I MUMBLE, CAUSING Courtney to look at me like I fucking hurt her. “I didn’t mean it like that, Court.”
She pushes past me, runs into the bathroom, leans over the sink, and throws up.
I follow after her, closing the door before grabbing her hair and pulling it back.
“Don’t touch me,” she snaps then throws up again.
“Not the words any man wants to hear from his wife the day after his wedding.”
She grabs the washcloth I hand her and wipes her mouth. Then she spins around, nearly falling, and I catch her.
We got so fucked up last night. So much shit happened—Brock, the fight, Coach, the speculation about what’s going on with him financially. Now lots of shit needs to be sorted out. But I need to take care of her first.
“Is she in here?” I hear a very pissed off woman’s voice.
Courtney looks at me again. Now she looks terrified.
“We fucked up. We’ll fix it,” I whisper.
“Oh, God, what did we do?” she asks, grabbing handfuls of her hair.
I pull her to my chest, leaning back against the counter.
“Courtney Cohen, you come out here this instant!”
She groans then sighs as she stands back and looks at me expectantly.
“Did you hear me, young lady?”
We hear Christa sigh then say, “Ellen, I’m sure she can.”
Courtney covers her face, her shoulders shaking.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” I pull her back to me and hug her tightly against me. �
��I swear, if I wasn’t drunk, that would have never happened.”
When she looks up, I see that her shaking wasn’t because she was crying. She was laughing.
“Not the words a wife wants to her from her husband the day after their wedding.”
I grin at her. “I’d kiss you, but you just blew up the sink.”
“She’s gonna kill me,” she whispers, sobering.
Her mom bangs on the door, yelling, “Well, you’ve done it now, Courtney! You need to come home.”
She sighs and looks down, her cheeks flushing.
“Fucked up or not,” I tell her, reaching out to open the door. “Apparently, you’re my misses, and I’m gonna handle this.”
“No one handles her. She’s like a fucking tsunami.”
“Trust me?” I ask.
Her mom bangs on the door again. “I know you’re in there!”
“Trust you?” she huffs, holding out her tattooed finger.
I know how this shit looks to her, not good, but right now, I feel like shit and need to tell her what’s up, “Look, I was just as fucked up—”
“I know, I know. We are so stupid.”
“We aren’t. We’ll figure it out.” I open the door with one hand and pull her head against my chest with the other.
As soon as the door is open, her mother grabs for her. “Let’s go.”
I turn, moving Courtney away from her. “With all due respect, Ellen, she’s not feeling well. And she’s not going anywhere but Seattle.”
“Who do you think you are?” she snaps at me.
“Well, rumor has it, I’m your son-in-law,” I tell her sarcastically.
“Oh, God,” Courtney whispers with a groan.
“Well, you certainly messed this up, Courtney,” her mom says, completely ignoring me. “Look at me, young lady. You’re grounded.”
What the fuck did she just say to her?
I look at Courtney to gauge her reaction.
Defeated.
We aren’t defeated yet, I think to myself. Time to play some defense.
“If we messed up, we’ll fix it,” I tell the older version of Courtney. “She’s got a stadium to run. It would be kind of hard to do it from...” I pause, hoping like hell I don’t fuck this up.
“New York! She lives in New York.”
“Ellen?” a man’s voice calls into the room.
“Thank God,” Courtney groans, pushing off me and turning toward her mother.
Her mom’s eyes widen in shock when she sees Courtney, and she starts gesturing toward her. “Oh, my God, look at you. Ronald, look at her!”
His eyes also widen when he looks at Courtney. “I think your mother’s right. I think a few days back in New York is necessary.”
“I’m not going back to New York. I’m going to Seattle.”
As fucking hungover as we are, I’m not sure how to read her. She’s definitely annoyed, though, and a little frustrated.
“You’re a mess!”
“I’ll shower before anyone sees me, Mother.”
Ellen grabs Courtney’s hand. “What did you do to your finger?”
“We got tattoos in lieu of rings,” I answer, holding mine up.
“Do you know how permanent this is?” she scolds Courtney, completely ignoring me once again.
“You can get them removed,” Courtney informs her, grabbing my hand and looking at it.
She bites her cheek when she reads, “Her Time,” permanently inked on my hand.
I grab hers and read, “His season.”
“If we want,” I add, looking at her and seeing a hint of a smile play on her lips.
“Well, can you imagine when she finds a real husband and he has to see that...that...atrocity staring him in the eye?” her mother hisses at me.
“Mom, enough. It is what it is, and what’s done is done. You’ll survive, and he and I will fix our mistakes.”
“Five minutes,” Landry calls in.
I pull Courtney back and shut the door, caging us back inside the bathroom. Landry and her folks are all sorts of pissed, but I don’t care. She’s feeling like shit, and I’m feeling like I need her. And I need to figure this out without all the noise confusing us.
“You really want to get on that plane today, feeling like you do and having to explain to those fucks what happened when we really have no clue? Or, do you wanna stay here and get this shit sorted out?”
Her eyes widen, looking at me in shock. Then she shakes her head. “We have things to do in Seattle. Lots of things before—”
“Just for the weekend, Court. We stay tonight and leave tomorrow.”
She nods without hesitation. “Yeah, okay. Fine. But can we shower and sleep before hunting Elvis down?”
I nod. “I’m gonna fuck my wife today, too, while I still have one.”
“That would be real sweet if we were in love.” She laughs. “Now, to face her.” She nods toward the door that is concealing her still ranting mother on the other side.
“As your husband for a few more hours, allow me. You, shower. Not to be rude, but you fucking stink.”
She smiles. “And the sweetness continues.”
I open the door and walk out. “Coach, Ellen, Ron, Courtney and I are staying tonight to get things sorted out.”
***
IT WASN’T EASY TO CONVINCE them to leave, and I’m sure Ellen and Ron now think I am the biggest dick in the world.
Hell, I think I am, too.
Worse, I know what I want, and that...that fucking makes me realize that I am, in fact, a fucking dick.
I want her, and I will have her. Hungover or not, at very least I will be face down between her legs tonight. That little bit of her taste on my fingers was nothing but a tease.
I lay out clothes from the bag Courtney’s mom left when she stormed out of the room. Then I send our bags out with the bell service to take to our new room.
When Courtney walks out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower, she looks around. “Where is everyone?”
“Christa went to calm your mother down, and Parker left to eat. Everyone else is catching a flight home.” I gesture toward her clothes. “Get dressed. We’re switching rooms.”
“What?” She throws her hands in the air, and then grabs her head. I am sure her loud exclamation hurt like hell.
I am going to have to slow it down for her.
“You and I aren’t gonna wake up in a bathtub next time we fall asleep, and we sure as hell won’t have Parker and Christa with us.”
“But—”
“Can you just play the role for today?” For the season.
She crosses her arms. “Will you let me sleep this headache off after we get there?”
“Yes.” After I fuck you.
She simply looks at me. “Can I get some privacy?”
“Sure.” No.
I turn around and watch her reflection in the mirror as she dries off then puts on her underpants and a long, cotton rose colored skirt.
She grabs her shirt then looks around, asking, “Couldn’t find a bra?”
“No.” That’s a lie.
“Where’s my bag?”
“Bellhop took it to our room.”
She pulls her shirt over her head. “Well, looks like I’m walking through the hotel braless.”
I turn around to face her. “Looks good to me.”
She blushes then smirks just a little.
That little smirk of hers makes me chub up. It’s telling, and right now, it’s telling me she likes that I’m looking, and I do.
***
IN THE NEW SUITE, SHE grabs her bag and fishes through it to find her phone. “It’s dead.”
“Mine, too,” I say, pulling my phone out. “Charger next to the bed is yours. I’ll plug mine in while I shower.”
She walks over and puts her phone on the charger. Then she throws back the covers and climbs in, fully dressed. “Wake me up when this nightmare is over.”
“Am I a nightmare?” I ask as
I pull my shirt off over my head.
She opens her eyes and looks at me, shaking her head no. “The situation is.”
I turn around and drop my pants, watching in the mirror as she looks me up and down. I like the way she looks at me.
I look away before she notices that I know she’s looking.
“Get some sleep. I’ll wake you soon.”
“Trae,” she says, stopping me from walking into the bathroom.
I look over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For...?”
“Well, I think maybe this is my fault.”
“We’ll figure it out...together.”
She smiles then closes her eyes. “Thanks for everything.”
Don’t thank me yet.
After a quick shower, I open the door and look out. She’s asleep.
I grab my phone from where I was charging it in the bathroom and see ten missed calls from home.
“Fuck,” I mumble as I dial Mom.
She doesn’t say hello. She starts right in.
“Please tell me all the talk is just that.”
Courtney and I haven’t even had the chance to check the news reports out, and I’m not sure I want to.
“How’s Callie?” I ask, ignoring her question.
“She’s good. Now answer the question.”
“All what talk?” I know damn well she isn’t stupid.
“Did you get drunk and marry Brock’s ex?”
“I got drunk, and I have been told I married Courtney Cohen.”
“Brock’s ex!” she snaps.
“Something like that,” I answer, leaning against the counter.
“Did you learn nothing from Callie!” she yells.
I hate when she gets pissed like this. She knows damn well I learned. Hell, I’m still learning.
“Learned everything I didn’t from you from Callie, so you’ll have to be more specific. And I’d rather not rehash that, so let’s just have a little faith in the fact that I will fix this.”
“You married her; you better fix it.”
“She and I will together,” I tell her.
“And she’s a drinker, too, I see.” Her tone is disgusted, and I get it. I totally get it. But I won’t engage.
“No, Mom, she’s not. She’s a smart, young, beautiful girl. We just got fucked up.”
“Is she speaking to you?”
“Right now, she’s sleeping, and then we’re going to figure out what to do next.”