So I Married a Rockstar

Chapter Two

Ch.2: The Morning After

This couldn't be happening.

No, seriously, this could not actually be happening.

Tentatively, I touched the ring, hoping that maybe it was plastic and this was just some crazy joke.

Nope.

That was a diamond.

That was a giant fucking diamond on my finger, and I had no memory of it, or . . . anything else.

"Shit," I whispered. "Oh shit, shitty, shit, shit, shit."

Jude shifted slightly, and I leaped out of bed like it was on fire. A quick glance down told me that I was still fully dressed – thank fuck – though Jude was missing his shirt. At least, I hoped that was all he was missing, but I couldn't see beneath the covers that were bunched around his waist.

Any other time, the muscled, tatted view would have had me drooling, but I was too distracted by the hotel room I'd woken up in. The huge bed and what had felt like feather pillows, the framed artwork on the walls, the sleek modern fireplace set close to the bed, the incredible view of the Strip that I glimpsed through the partially closed curtains – this was a far cry from the grubby little hostel where I'd been staying..

But what the hell had we done to it? A ceramic lamp lay in pieces near the nightstand, and the massive TV on the opposite wall was cracked down the middle – as if someone had hit it with the upended chair lying underneath it. A bottle of champagne lay on its side nearby, and judging by the size of the damp stain around it, neither of us had even drunk any of it.

"Fuck," I whispered, looking closer.

That was a vintage Dom Perignon, and even I, who was a total amateur when it came to all things wine-related, knew that the cheapest bottle was out of my price range.

I stumbled back and something crunched under my foot. A tiny bottle of shampoo lay on the floor, oozing into the carpet. A Gucci bottle of shampoo.

"No, no, no, no, no." My voice rose as panic climbed up my throat, making it hard to breathe. I couldn't afford any hotel that offered Gucci to its guests. I couldn't afford fancy champagne. I sure as shit couldn't afford to cover the costs of the damage.

"Keep it down, would you?" said a sleep-hoarse voice from the bed.

Jude was facing me now, blinking those intense brown eyes, and despite the shit we were in, my girly parts couldn't help but sit up and notice how ridiculously good-looking he was, even first thing in the morning. I suspected if I even looked in a mirror right now, it would crack like the TV.

"Are you kidding me? That's all you have to say?" I said shrilly. "Have you seen this?" I brandished my diamond ring at him.

Jude frowned, and looked down at his own ring. For what felt like a million years, no one said anything.

"Huh," Jude said at last.

My jaw dropped. "That's it?"

Jude scrubbed a hand over his face, his palm scraping against the bristles on his chin. "I have just woken up."

"So have I." I flung my arms wide. "Look at this place. What happened? What did we do?" I didn't give him a chance to answer. "Oh my God, what am I going to do? I can't believe this is happening, I just can't."

"Wake me up when you're done freaking out," Jude said, and rolled over, as if nothing was wrong.

I stared at his back. The words Born to Rock were tattooed onto a scroll that stretched from shoulder-blade to shoulder-blade. I'd seen that tattoo before – on his first album cover, and way too many times I'd imagined tracing each letter with my tongue. I didn't want to do that now.