Waking up Hitched in Vegas
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Chapter 1
The Hangover
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Sex: The thing that takes up the least amount of time and causes the most trouble - John Barrymore
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The sun was coming in through the crack of the curtain; a concentrated beam was right in my eyes. I groaned and cracked my eyes open which was a big mistake, the beam of sun was as bright as a thousand suns burning my retinas. I rolled onto my back and felt the worst wave of nausea sweep over me.
I moaned and slung my arm over my eyes. I had the world's worst hangover in the history of hangovers ... ugh ... What even happened last night? I wondered. The whole night was a blank; I could not even remember coming back to my hotel room.
I was on my honeymoon, or what was supposed to be my honeymoon. I was supposed to marry Justin two days ago, but the night before the wedding I had found him with another woman, that no good loser!
I had called him at 2 am; I was having a bit of a cold feet moment. We lived together but he insisted that he could not see his bride before the wedding; it was bad luck, so I stayed at my best friend's house. I called him hoping he could comfort me, tell me that getting married was the right thing to do, but when I called his cellphone, a woman had answered.
He was in bed sleeping with another woman!
Pig.
When my girlfriends found out about my soon-to-be husband they hatched this plan to visit Las Vegas, which was supposed to have been my honeymoon trip with Justin. At the time I was too distraught to argue; I mean, the trip was all paid for anyway, so why not? So here I was with Cathy and Ariel.
The trip had been all right, but I just was not in the party mood. Last night we were scheduled to leave but I told the girls I needed one more night alone, just to myself, before I went back to home to Florida and dealt with the giant mess my ... ex ... had left me in. I had not technically cancelled the wedding, I had just taken off. I knew I had a lot of apologies to make. I also had to find a new place to live since I had lived with Justin for the last six months.
I stayed in Vegas an extra day with the intention of just relaxing, which meant watching movies on Lifetime and gorging on room service.
Obviously my night had taken a different turn from my original plan, because here I was, in bed with the mother of all hangovers.
Trying to recall what I did last night was too painful for my poor brain. I dropped my arm down and opened my eyes again. To my relief, this time it didn't hurt as much. I focused on the cream-colored ceiling until the room stopped spinning. I squinted and blinked several times, staring at the fancy ceiling light above me.
Where had that come from? There was no ceiling light in my room ... or was there? I couldn't recall if my room had that light there when I first arrived.
I closed my eyes and took a few calming breaths, stamping down the nausea. I should get some water ... water was good for a hangover right? I couldn't quite recollect what the experts said about it nowadays. I had not had a hangover this bad since my days of going to clubs, and those days were very limited. I rolled back to my right side and slowly opened my eyes.
Okay I can do this, I thought. Just put your feet down very, very slowly and ... crawl to the mini fridge for some water.
With my eyes cracked opened I waited for the room to come into focus. As I did so I stared at the sheer curtain that was letting in far too much light. Who uses sheer curtains in a bedroom anyway? I peered a bit longer at the silly thing, my brain slowly processing what it was seeing; the curtain was pulled over a patio door.
My hotel room had no patio doors; in fact the curtains to my room had been a very ugly light blue with giant flowers all over it, and I remembered Cathy commenting how her grandmother had a couch that would match it.
I bolted up in the sitting position, causing the room to go into full tilt mode, but I ignored it and looked around the room frantically. It was obviously a hotel room, but not my room! Had I just stumbled into some random room?
My eyes traveled through the large luxurious room until it came to the foot of the bed. My heart stopped beating. There was a pair of feet in my bed ... feet that did not belong to me. Oh god ... I swallowed the massive wave of nausea that hit me. I slowly let my eyes travel up the feet that were poking out the white sheet. They were connected to a pair of legs. Legs that undoubtedly belong to man or a woman who needed to get acquainted with a razor.
The man's legs were all tangled up in the sheet. I followed the line of flesh and sheet that curved to his backside ... I tried to not linger too long on that part. My eyes kept traveling up until I reached his back, which was uncovered. The stranger was on his stomach with his head turned away from me. He was rather tall, his feet dangled off the bed by at least six inches, while his head was near the headboard.
He had the build of some sort of mythical warrior – well, from the back he did. From his thick shoulders and biceps, to the perfect curves in his back, he was a work of art and to compliment that art was a giant tattoo between his shoulder blades. A ghostly figure of a dark angel with its arms open stared back at me. I shivered and quickly averted my eyes from the dark figure, but in doing so my eyes landed on another tattoo which was on his bicep, a giant Celtic cross. Feeling flushed, I finished my quick assessment of my mysterious bed partner. He had a full head of midnight black hair, which was quite messy and looking as frazzled as I felt.
Who was this man? And where the hell was I?
My adrenaline finally decided to jump-start and I rolled out of bed like it had caught fire. I looked around wildly, unsure what I should do. Never in my life had I been in a situation like this. I looked around in a panic and unable to control my body any longer I started to hop on one foot then on the other shaking my hands in front of me.
-"Oh god, oh god ..." I mumbled to myself.
I looked down, and to my horror I was naked.
Still feeling the alcohol in my system, my thinking was slow but my current situation came crashing down on me. I was not in my room and I probably had sex with a stranger I didn't remember. My breathing came in short puffs as my heart began to race like I had just run a marathon. I needed clothes, now! Scanning the room frantically, I spotted my tank top and bra near the front door. I dove for them and dressed in record time, all the while keeping an eye on the mysterious, beautiful stranger.
-"Where are my pants!" I quietly cried, dramatically shaking my hands.
I rushed around the room as stealthily as I could, and found the jeans slung over one of the chairs. I slipped them on until I remembered I had no underwear on. Where the hell are they? In a rush I pulled up my jeans, keeping my wild eyes scanning the room, but as I fastened the button on my trousers I felt something hard in my pocket.
My phone!
Not wasting another second, I woke the phone from its sleep, which was muted. I had refused to take any calls. When the phone's bright screen came on it informed me I had over fifty missed calls. Without looking I already knew some were from the wedding guests, while the rest were from my mother. I dismissed them and quickly dialed Cathy's number, which I knew by heart.
-"Ana, how are you darlin'?" Cathy's southern drawl answered.
-"Oh my god, Cathy you have to help me!" I whispered into the phone, my voice shook with panic.
-"What's wrong babe, why are you whispering?"
-"Well see, I have no idea where I am!" I inhaled sharply, trying to calm my racing heart. "Oh god, Cathy ... " I looked around the room searching for my purse, forgetting the underwear.
-"What?" My best friend's voice climbed in panic, matching mine, "Ana, calm down! What do you mean you don't know where you are?"
-"Okay, I don't know what the hell happened last night, but I drank too much ... I think. So here I am, waking up in a different room." Sweat beaded on my forehead as I spurred myself into motion and resumed my search for my purse. I crouched down and peeked into the bed. "I woke up, not in my room." Not seeing my purse under the bed I straightened back up, my eyes landing on the man. "... And with a guy in bed ..."
-"What?!" She shrieked in the phone, causing me to move it from my ear for a moment.
-"Shhhh, I don't want to wake him up." I looked back at the stranger who was still out like a light.
-"Who is he?"
-"I don't know! ... Oh God, I slept with a guy I don't even know!" I was so breathing hard, almost hyperventilating.
-"Okay, Ana, Sweetie, calm down ... you are not in your hotel?"
-"No, I don't think so."
-"Look on the TV or the night table; there should be some sort of hotel name on a card or something, telling you where you are."
I nodded and looked at the TV, but it was a flat screen that hung on the wall, but beneath it was a dresser with the name of the hotel. I quickly snatched the paper.
-"Hampton, am at the Hampton!"
-"OOO ... how posh!"
-"That's just a few blocks from my hotel room." I recalled.
-"So what does he look like? Is he hot?"
-"Cathy!" I hissed.
-"What? I'm curious!"
I tiptoed to the bed and gazed down at the man in front of me, feeling the same curiosity as Cathy.
-"I don't know ... he is on his stomach ..." My gaze locked on the tattoo on his back again, it was calling to me, begging me to touch it ... I shook my head ... concentrate! "I can't find my purse."
Just then my handsome stranger started to stir. He moaned softly and started to roll onto his back.
-"Oh shit! He's waking up!" I whispered harshly.
I was frozen in place, while Cathy screeched something at me but I couldn't hear her. All I could hear was my heart beating in my ears, the blood pounding through my veins. So I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped to my knees and hid at the foot of the bed.
-"What's happening?" I heard Cathy's voice.
-"I'm ... hiding." I said as softly as I could.
-"Hiding? What the hell is wrong with you girl! Just get back in the bed and say, hey hot stuff, want to perform an encore?"
I ignored Cathy's suggestion and waited for some sounds of him waking up but I heard no more noises from the bed. Very carefully, I peeked up and saw he was now on his back ... Still asleep, thank heavens! One of his arms was slung over the top of his head while his other was across the bed where I had laid.
-"He didn't wake up ..." I whispered.
I stood up and my eyes went to his bare chest. I tried hard not to ogle but it was hard not to. The man had the most beautiful chest I had ever seen. From the carved planes of his chest, to his washboard abs. His chest was bare of any hair and he truly was a work of art. My gaze darted to his face ... and that's when I dropped my phone.
-"Holy shit ..." I gasped and took a step back. I knew this man.
Well, I didn't know him personally, but I knew him, from TV ... how could this even happen? In in a trance of horror, I kept backing up until my butt hit the low dresser.
-"ANA?!" I heard the loud shriek from the ground.
I hurried and grabbed my phone. My hands shook worse than a leaf in the autumn wind.
-"Ana?! What is going on?"
-"I ... I – dropped the phone." I said my throat suddenly parched and dry. "I know him ..." I said in disbelief.
-"Who is it? Don't tell me it's Justin or I am going to come back to Vegas and kick your butt girl."
-"It can't be ..." I said numbly.
-"Ana, talk to me!" Cathy's tone was growing impatient.
-"It's that guy ... you know from that Ghost television ..." My mind was blank. Cathy was silently waiting for my reveal. "It's Zak ... oh god, its Zak Bagans ..." I felt my legs growing weak as I leaned back on the dresser that my butt had bumped into.
-"No, there is no way girl! Its Vegas, he probably just looks like him. Check his ID, look for his pants and check his ID."
I nodded and spotted his pants by the chairs, where mine had been. I grabbed the black cargo pants and felt around for a wallet, finding it in the back pocket, attached to a chain that went to his belt. I yanked it out and found his driver's license as soon as I opened it. It listed his name and address.
-"It's him Cathy ..." I whispered in disbelief, my nausea suddenly returning.
-"Holy shit, you slut, you had sex with TV star Zak!" Cathy laughed excitedly.
I looked back at Zak to make sure he was still sleeping; I then put the wallet back and dropped the pants on the ground.
-"I have to get out of here." I felt so sick to my stomach. "But I can't find my purse!"
-"Don't run off, you should stay there!"
-"No way, am getting out of here. I will call you later." I hung up without waiting for her to reply.
I checked the bathroom; there was nothing in there, and no signs of my purse, but I had to get out of there. This was not me; I was not a one night stand girl. I didn't get drunk or sleep with strangers I didn't know. I was just a ... well... a good girl! I worked as a librarian, Tuesday night book club meetings was the highlight of my week. I just didn't do things like this.
Zak started to stir again, and I decided to forget my purse; it probably was at my hotel room. I went to the door and reached for the handle. As I did so, my eyes locked on a small gold band on my ring finger. My brow furrowed at the strange thing, but I quickly dismissed it, there was no time to wonder about that now.
I gave Zak a last glance. It was too bad I couldn't remember last night, the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. Sex with a really gorgeous man, and I would never remember it. I memorized this moment right here. He was splayed across the bed, the white sheet tangled around his body. His raven black hair tousled, clinging to the white pillow ... I smiled sadly and opened the door, slipping out silently, shutting the door as quietly as possible.