One Wild Night by Morgan Young

Author:Morgan Young
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance, sexy, new adult, romance contemporary, morgan young, small town sexy

Chapter Six

When I wake up the next morning, the sky is still dark. As dark as the sky can be, at least, in Las Vegas.

And Emerson is still sleeping, a perfect, dreamless sleep, a small smile on his lips.

And I can’t breathe. My chest is tight. My heart is racing madly. Yesterday I was so incredibly happy. Why can’t I recapture that now? But instead all I can think is these are the last moments I’ll spend with Emerson before I have to go back to the real world. These are the last moments before I have to go back to being an overworked sales rep and he’ll be a fancy lawyer and we’ll have to say goodbye. We’ll probably never, ever see each other again, except maybe to sign annulment papers, and honestly, I can probably just overnight those.

Some bandages are better ripped off. Pretending to be married, dream-living this mistake was never a good idea. And now, with real feelings involved, it’s a terrible idea.

Very quietly, I roll over in bed, silently memorizing every little detail of Emerson’s face. His body. His eyelashes.

Maybe it isn’t possible to fall in love with someone in a weekend, but I think I did. But staying—not leaving—just made it hurt worse to leave now. At least if I would have left right away, I would have just had a few scattered memories and I wouldn’t have had the pain of remembering the kind of person I was leaving behind.

I take off the very beautiful, very expensive ring, and set it carefully on the grand piano. I cast one more look around the honeymoon suite, one more look at my beautiful husband, and then I leave to catch a flight home.

***

I was that person, the girl crying in the airport. Crying on the plane. Not sobbing—I’m not completely ridiculous, but doing simple things like grabbing a coffee made me miserable. Guilty.

I should have said goodbye.

But I couldn’t. It would have hurt too much. So now, I’m back in Portland, and I’m lying listlessly on my bed, staring around at my apartment. My very void of human contact apartment.

The phone rings, and I jump up to answer it, scowling when I see it’s my boss.

“Hello?” I say, trying not to sound impatient.

“Oh, good,” she says, “you’re home. I hate to do this to you, Eliza. But I need to go back to that shit town. The project’s about to fall through.”

My heart thumps. “You mean that place in Kansas?” I ask. The place where I met my husband, I don’t add.

“That’s the one. I booked you a flight at four, but I couldn’t secure any lodging. You’ll have to do it when you get there. There’s some kind of festival going on—who knows.” She sounds annoyed, but the idea of a festival is adorable. I wish more towns had them.

“Okay,” I say. “I’m on my way.”

My boss hangs up, and I go to my room to pack a small bag. Not even unpacking the one that’s still sitting there from Vegas.

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