Chapter Text
She awakens with a shock, disoriented. Sunlight pours into the room forcing her to squint the moment her eyes open. A sharp pain shoots through her temple and she groans softly. Her mouth tastes as if something died in it. She tries to remember the night but all she recalls is dinner, and Annie buying the first round of shots. Tequila .
Jesus.
She leans forward on her arm, gets an elbow underneath, and pushes up. Pain shoots through her head and a wave of nausea hits her.
That’s when she hears it. A quiet groan behind her and then the bed shifts.
That’s also about the time Beth realizes she’s completely naked. She grabs the thin sheet around her chest, pulls it up to her neck, and turns her body. Next to her, just as naked, is a man. He’s stretched out on his back, an arm thrown over his eyes, the sheet barely covering him.
She panics.
She stammers, kicks her legs out, and stumbles off the bed. When she pulls the bedsheet with her it slides off of his body. She yelps.
His eyes flutter open, they’re brown and unfocused.
She can’t help it, she looks down. His brown skin contrasts against the hotel sheets in a way that makes her mouth dry.
“Oh my god,” she gasps, pulls the sheet up against her body, and turns away from him.
She dashes into the bathroom, kicks the door shut, and vomits into the toilet. When she’s done, she leans back on her heels and wipes at her mouth with the sheet.
After a while of squatting her thighs begin to burn, then she realizes she aches, everywhere .
She slips a hand between her thighs and groans, she’s still wet.
Fuck .
He’d come in her.
When she catches herself in the mirror she gasps. Her mascaras smeared around her eyes, hair tangled. She looks wrecked .
On her chest is a large, red hickey. She rubs a gentle finger over it, remembering the feel of stubble against her skin. She shivers, quickly pulls up the sheet until her right thigh comes into view. There, on the inside is another one. Pink and fresh.
The knock at the door startles her.
“You alright?” Comes a deep voice.
“I’m fine,” she rasps, her voice gone. Damn tequila.
She hears a noise outside the door, hears him moving around the room. Putting his clothes on, she hopes.
She waits another moment until she can’t hear him anymore, then she pulls the sheet up and opens the door.
He’s sitting on the bed, he’d put his jeans on but he’s still topless. He’s resting his head in his hands, leaning forwards on his knees when he hears her. He looks up and she forgets how to breathe.
His eyes are red, mouth open as he stares at her. He looks just as miserable and hungover. His eyes drop to her chest, to the hickey he’d put there and her hand grips the sheet tighter. It’s when he stands that she realizes she’s absolutely fucked .
He’s tall and lean. Her eyes fall to the large tattoo covering his neck and the necklace that hangs around it. The image of it hanging off of him pops into her brain then, and the way it’d dipped between her breasts as he’d pushed into her.
“You sure you alright?”
His voice snaps her back and she nods, silently.
She looks away from him, looks around the room - this is definitely her room, she knows that much, but she doesn’t see her phone or her clothes from last night.
“Do you remember - “ he begins to ask, then pauses.
She looks back to him, shakes her head softly and that’s when she sees he’s holding something in his hand. A piece of paper. He must realize what she’s looking at because he brings his hand up and the paper with it.
He takes a step closer, extends his hand, and lets her take the paper
“Neither do I.” He says.
She gasps, loudly. There, in black and white, from the Clark County State of Nevada is a marriage certificate with her name on it.
“I take it you’re Elizabeth?” he says on an exhale.
Fuck .
Another wave of nausea hits her, she shoves the paper into his chest and runs to the bathroom. When her stomach is empty she throws some water on her face and stares up at herself.
Married . The irony of it is the fact that she’d come to Vegas with her best friends to celebrate her divorce. Beth doesn’t know whether she wants to laugh or cry. Oh god, Annie will never let her live this down for as long as she’s alive.
When she comes back out into the room, a little ashamed at her own dramatics, she finds him standing by the window. He’s still shirtless and talking on his phone. He gives her a little nod when he sees her, it’s so very casual until his eyes slip down her body. The sheet is thin, translucent almost, and the direct sunlight doesn’t help. She feels her nipples tighten at his assessment and her toes curl against the shaggy carpet.
He angles his body in her direction to give himself a better look, and she lets him. He licks his bottom lip before he responds to the person on the phone in short, clipped sentences. She doesn’t know how long she stands there, frozen like a statue under his gaze. She feels that familiar twist in her belly, a heat blooming deep inside of her.
She forces herself to turn away then, she finds her phone and some clothes. She changes quickly, looks through her messages at the sink only to find three from Annie of eggplant emojis she’d sent at midnight.
When she walks back out he’s off the phone, still standing in the same spot but facing the window this time.
“Hi,” she says quietly.
“Hello.”
“I’m sorry for - “ she pauses, points to the bathroom, and laughs.
He laughs, it lights up his face, reveals a row of perfect teeth.
Teeth he’d made that hickey with.
”Nah, I get it,” he says, then he takes a step closer, and hands her his phone.
“We can annul, I’ll take care of it, just need to be able to reach you.”
She nods, when she takes the phone from him she makes sure to not touch his skin. She keys her information in quickly and hands it back to him.
“Beth,” he says, his mouth frowns like it doesn’t sit well with him. “Rio,” he says and extends his hand to her.
Rio . The paper had said Christopher, she’s pretty sure.
She takes his hand, it's warm, firm. He gives her a slow shake, once, then again. She’s staring, she knows, but his bottom lip is distracting. She thinks she remembers how it felt between her teeth and how much he’d liked that.
Then he’s pulling his hand away and pocketing his phone.
“I’ll see you, Elizabeth,” he says with another nod.
He opens the door but doesn’t step out immediately. She can see why through the space between his legs. Strewn across the hallway just outside her door are his shirt and his jacket.
He steps out into the hallway and the door shuts behind him.
Beth takes a few deep, steadying breaths, and then she calls Annie.
When neither Annie nor Ruby answers she showers, scrubs her skin and finds two more hickeys. One on the inside of her wrist and the other on the side of her breast. Every muscle in her body aches, so she lets the hot water soothe her.
She thinks back to the previous night, recalls getting dressed, drinking with the girls in this very room. She remembers dinner, she’d had lobster, and Ruby and Annie had both had steak. She remembers champagne and giggling over how cute and young their waiter was.
Young - like Rio, she thinks.
She groans, lets her forehead rest on the cool tile, and turns the water temperature up.
When she’s pruned she turns the shower off and the moment she steps into the cool air of the room she hears her phone ding - once, then again.
Goooood morning ;)
It’s Annie.
The phone dings a few more times, lighting up with inappropriate emojis of more eggplants, water drops, and other icons she can’t quite understand.
We’re grabbing breakfast downstairs, hurry.
She dresses, lets her wet hair fall loose against her shoulders, and hurries downstairs.
Annie and Ruby are seated on the terrace by the most beautiful fountain she’d ever seen. They’re drinking mimosa and laughing. When Annie spots her, she shrieks.
“There she is, Miss America!” Annie yells and Ruby pretends to shush her but laughs.
Beth slides into a chair and grasps the first glass of water she sees. Her body sings at the first gulp of the cold liquid and by the time she’s done with it she’s out of breath.
“Sure, please, have my water,” Annie scoffs. Beth levels her with a look and Annie frowns in return.
“What, gang-friend didn’t do it for you?” she asks, then she turns to Ruby and smacks her arm. “I told you we should have gone with the freakishly tall Swede.”
“Gang-friend?” Beth parrots back.
Annie shrugs.
“It was loud and we didn’t catch his name.”
“You let me go, wasted , with a stranger whose name you didn’t even know,” Beth looks to Ruby, points to Annie before she speaks again, “I mean her I understand, but you?“
“First of all you weren’t wasted - “ Annie starts but Ruby interrupts her.
“You’re the one who invited us all back to yours for a nightcap,” Ruby emphasizes the last word with quotes, causing Annie to laugh as if it's an inside joke Beth isn’t privy to. “And then kicked all of us out except for him,” Ruby finishes with a pointed look.
“God, we were hoping he’d get that stick out of -” Annie says but Beth raises her hand, interrupting her.
“I’m married,” she snaps.
Ruby makes a confused face and Annie frowns. They exchange a bewildered look between each other before turning back to Beth.
“You’re divorced , that’s why we’re here,” Annie says, then she turns to Ruby and whispers, “Can people get amnesia from drinking a lot?”
“No,” Beth says slowly as if she’s addressing a child. “I am married to Rio - which by the way is his name, not gang-friend.” There’s only silence then as both Annie and Ruby stare blankly back at her so she continues. “I remember nothing from last night. I woke up this morning, naked, with him next to me and a marriage certificate with both of our names,” she all but screeches the last part.
Ruby’s jaw drops and a soft gasp escapes her.
Annie, on the other hand, cackles . It’s loud and so sudden that it makes Ruby jump.
“Oh-my-god,” Annie laughs. Ruby stares, mouth still open.
“It’s not funny,” Beth whines.
“Wait, where is he right now? Did you leave him in bed?” Annie asks.
“No, he’s - “ Beth pauses, thinking. “I don’t know, he said we can annul and that he would take care of it - whatever that means, then he left,” she shrugs. “I’m going to be sick,” she adds.
That’s when Ruby wheezes and starts laughing. Beth groans and gasps when she remembers.
“I need a Plan B.”
Annie laughs. “Plan b? What’s plan a?”
Beth gives her an annoyed look, Annie takes a sip of her mimosa and shakes her head, genuinely confused.
“No, Annie, the medicine,” Beth says.
Ruby gasps.
“Oh my god, this just keeps getting better,” Annie laughs and finishes her mimosa.
“How was it?” Ruby whispers, leans in.
Beth closes her eyes and shakes her head - she can’t go there right now. She shivers, and Annie gives Ruby another smack on the arm.
“See, I told you, BDE.”
Ruby rolls her eyes.
“What is BDE?” Beth asks, annoyed.
“Big dick energy,” Annie answers with a duh facial expression.
Beth groans, and grabs Ruby’s water, downs it all in one go.
“Well she’s not denying it, “ Annie whispers out of the side of her mouth.
Beth’s phone pings and she fishes it out of her purse. It’s from a number she doesn’t have saved - it’s him.
Paperworks ready, need you to sign.
Jesus, he moves fast.
“Is it him?” Ruby asks and Beth nods without a word.
She types out a response - ok.
His response is instantaneous.
I’ll bring them this afternoon.
“Well, what’s he saying?” Annie prods.
“The annulment paperwork’s ready,” Beth says, and Annie groans.
“Already? That’s no fun.”
Ruby scolds her, Annie shrugs and orders another mimosa.
An hour later Beth’s back in her room, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed with the largest bottle of water next to her. She rips into a paper bag and fishes out the pill. It’s tiny. She doesn’t think more about it, just pops it in and flushes it down with water.
She plops back into bed and checks her phone - 2:30 PM, no messages. She wonders, briefly, where he is, what he’s doing at this very moment.
“Jesus, Beth, stop it,” she says out loud, lets out a huff, and turns to her side. If she can just get a quick nap in maybe she can clear her mind and pull herself together.
She sleeps, and she dreams, or maybe she remembers. She doesn’t know the difference anymore.
She dreams of soft kisses on her neck, a tight arm around her waist. She dreams of him , heavy at her back, bending her over the edge of the bed. He’d held her down, fisted a hand into her hair, and whispered filthy things into her ear as he’d fucked her.
A soft knock at the door pulls her out of her dream, she awakens with a hand inside of her underwear. At first, she thinks she’d imagined the knock but then it comes again. She jumps up, straightens her dress out, and pulls the door open.
It’s him.
He’s leaning on the door frame, large envelope in his hand. He gives her a small smile when he steps inside.
He’d showered, she knows because he smells good, familiar. The smell of him suddenly triggering a memory. Annie had dragged them to a club after dinner, she remembers. She’d bumped into him, physically nudged his shoulder when she’d slipped between him and a stranger to get the bartender’s attention. She remembers touching him.
“Sorry,” she yells over the music and she’s boozed-up enough already to have no inhibition about reaching out and squeezing his arm in apology. She stutters a bit in her confidence when he doesn’t return a smile.
“That’s alright,” he responds, she can't hear him but she’s close enough to read it on his lips. His mouth - god. She stares, then his lips are moving again, he’s speaking to her.
“W-What?” She shakes her head and he smirks. She hadn’t heard a word of what he’d said to her, so she leans in closer and that’s when she smells him. He smells like leather and warmth.
“I said, what are you drinking - Rose?”
She scoffs, eyes the amber liquor in his palm, and shakes her head.
“Bourbon,” she says and the smirk grows into a full-fledged grin.
The sound of the envelope tearing snaps her out of her daydream. He pulls the papers out and hands them to her.
“I’ll have my lawyer file this week,” he says.
She blinks, jaw drops a little in surprise. When she looks at the papers her name is already typed up, two copies prepared. She wonders if he’s local - or loaded, to be able to prep the papers this quickly.
“I sign and that’s it?” she asks.
He nods, steps closer to her.
“My lawyer will send you a copy of the final petition.”
Then it’s quiet, the only noise in the room the shuffling of papers in her hands. She scans the documents, pretends like she’s reading but the only thing she can focus on is how close he is. How large his hands are.
“I don’t have a pen,” she whispers, still staring at the papers.
He digs a hand into his pocket, pulls out a pen, and clicks the top before handing it to her. She looks at his hand, the fingers adorned with rings.
“Elizabeth,” he says, voice too deep. “Why can’t you look at me right now - what, you already married or something?” He says with a laugh and she looks up, eyes wide open.
“Divorced.”
“Recently?”
“Last week,” she exhales.
“Damn, ma.”
She nods, grabs the pen out of his hand, and turns her back to him. She rests the papers on the armoire desk and bends at the waist. She hears a sharp intake of breath behind her and her nipples instantly pebble. She realizes what it must look like, her bent over in a dress, right in front of him.
She ignores him and the throb between her legs and signs the first copy. She scans the pages, eyes searching for wherever else it may look like a signature is needed, reading words but not comprehending a single thought.
“Is that why you’re here?” He asks quietly and she’s well aware that he hasn’t moved from behind her. “Celebrating?” Then she feels the briefest stroke of his fingers against the outside of her bare thigh and her mind blanks. He grows bolder, splays his hand open, and palms more skin. She lets out a soft puff of air and her head dips forward. “Hmm?” he hums, waiting for her to answer.
The palm slides up, underneath the skirt and her thong. He steps closer, and she feels the material of his jeans against the back of her thighs. He hikes her dress up to her hip, exposing her ass to him, and he groans.
“Been thinking about this all day,” he says, then he slides a palm across her lower belly and pulls her back into him. He’s hard - how is he already hard, god . She lets out a faint moan when he thrusts softly against her bottom, the movement pushes her into the desk.
Her phone rings. It vibrates violently across the nightstand and it shatters the moment. He steps back as if she’d burned him and she quickly pulls her dress down. The phone vibrates off the nightstand and plops to the floor where it's quieted by the plush carpeting.
She doesn’t look back, she doesn’t dare look at him. She signs the last page, forces her hand to stop shaking long enough to scribble her name out. When she’s done she shuffles the papers together haphazardly and turns to face him.
His eyes are dark, pupils blown. She tries to step back, tries to put some space between them but the table’s at her back and the air is so thick. She extends the papers out and her knuckles touch his chest.
When he takes the papers from her he grazes her wrist, then her palm, and then he lets her go.
“Goodbye, Elizabeth,” he says and takes a step back, then another. Then the door opens and he’s gone. She reaches for the minibar and pulls out two mini’s of whatever brown liquor she sees first.