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Auctioned to Him 9: Wait by Charlotte Byrd (198)

12

I open my eyes. My head is pounding as if someone is smashing on the drums with all their might a millimeter away from my eardrums. A slither of light peeks in through the blackout curtains and my eyes can barely handle it.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. My throat itches. I cough and feel the nightstand for something to drink. My hands lands on a glass. I bring it to my lips. And then take a sniff.

Please don’t be alcohol, I say to myself. It’s not. Just water. Whew. I drink the whole glass. Finally, I manage to open my eyes a little wider. The room is pretty dark, but the light still pierces my eyes as if it’s a sword. I cover my eyes with my arm and look around.

Where the hell am I?

I’m sitting in a tall bed. There are suitcases all around. And French doors across from me. The place does not look familiar, however.

My eyes dart to one side and I spot the bathroom. Carefully, I get up and walk to the bathroom. I don’t put on the lights, but I do look at myself in the mirror. I’m a mess. And not even a hot mess. My hair is completely out of place. Crumpled and sad. My make up is all smeared and I have ugly raccoon eyes. I wipe my mouth – lipstick residue comes off on the back of my hand.

“Where is this?” I whisper.

My eyes adjust to the muted light enough for me to stop protecting them with my hand. I look around the bathroom. It’s familiar and foreign at the same time. I feel like I’ve been here before, but not often. This is not our bathroom back at the dorm. And then I see it. My tiny, bright pink, travel-sized flat iron. And it hits me. I’m at the hotel. We’re in Atlantic City. But for some reason I’m in the room. Weren’t Tea and Tanner supposed to sleep here?

I come back into the room. What the hell am I doing sleeping here? And everyone else sleeping there? I search my mind for answers. But it all comes up blank. I can’t remember a thing!

“Oh shit, why is it so bright in here?” I hear someone say.

The voice startles me. It’s quiet, but it’s definitely not coming from the outside.

It’s coming from the bed!

Please don’t be Tanner.

Please don’t be Tanner.

Please don’t be Tanner.

When he moves the cover from his face and sits up in bed, I see that it’s not Tanner.

It’s Dylan.

“Dylan? What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Stop yelling! My head is killing me.”

I give him a moment to collect his thoughts. He gets up and pulls the blackout shades shut. The slither of light is gone. My head feels a little better.

“What are you wearing?” Dylan asks me.

I don’t know. I didn’t even think to look. I look down. For some reason, I’m wearing a white bathing suit cover up. It’s light and airy and has tiny little spaghetti straps.

“I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. What I don’t reveal is that I’m also not wearing underwear.

Dylan sits up more in bed. He’s not wearing a shirt either.

“Are you wearing any clothes?” I ask him, cautiously.

He rubs the back of his head. Then looks down.

“No.” He shakes his head. He acts like it’s no big deal. Just gives out a little sigh. Clearly, he’s not fully understanding the magnitude of this situation.

“Oh shit,” I say. “Do you think we…?”

I can’t finish the sentence. No, we couldn’t have. Right? I try to remember something, anything, from last night. Why did I have to drink so much? The last thing I remember is staggering up some stairs at a casino (which one?) with Juliet. My phone said it was 1:30 am. Or maybe 3:30? I have no idea.

“Do you think we what?” Dylan asks.

His mind isn’t working well. Either that, or he’s particularly dense.

“I’m not wearing underwear,” I decide to inform him. “And you’re naked.”

“Oh shit,” he whispers. The expression on his face says it all. Peyton. They just got back together. This is Valentine’s Day, for crying out loud.

“I can’t remember anything,” he says.

“Me neither.” I shake my head.

“You can’t tell Peyton about this. Promise me that you won’t. She’ll never forgive me.”

I nod.

“No, you have to promise,” he says. He’s speaking really fast. It sounds like he’s about to hyperventilate.

“I promise. I don’t want Tristan to know either,” I say.

Oh my God, Tristan! This is the first time he had popped into my head this whole morning.

“Oh wow, Tristan,” Dylan mumbles. They are roommates. And really good friends. This doesn’t look right, not at all. “But maybe nothing happened,” Dylan says. “I mean, we don’t remember a thing. So maybe we were too drunk.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I mumble. “I hope you’re right.”

I find my underwear under the bed and put it on. I turn around as Dylan puts on his clothes. I don’t want to tell him this, but this is going to be a hard one to hide. Juliet is outside and she’s our roommate. And not just our roommate, Tristan’s roommate. And if we did sleep together, the news is just too juicy for her to keep quiet. And if Tristan finds out, I’m sure that Peyton will too. He won’t be in a very forgiving mood. Besides, I’m not even sure if I want to keep it from Tristan. We’re not really together anymore.

* * *

Dylan and I walk out of the room with hung heads. I’m actually tiptoeing. I hope that everyone is still asleep. Unfortunately, they’re not. There’s a room service cart in the middle of the room and everyone’s having breakfast.

“Wow, look who’s up!” Juliet announces to the whole room. Tanner stops pouring his cup of coffee. Tea looks up from her magazine.

“Hey.” I smile and wave. “Morning.”

Without saying a word, I walk over to the opened box of donuts and grab one with cherry filling spilling out of its side. Sugar isn’t the best way to start the day, but I need a pick-me-up. A big one.

“So…how does it feel?” Tea asks.

Dylan and I look at each other. He has a confused look on his face. I’m equally perplexed.

“What?” he asks.

Okay, so maybe we had slept together, even though neither of us remembers. But how is this their business exactly? It’s not, but it doesn’t stop them from gossiping. I hate to admit it, but if Dylan and Tea slept together, I’d be all over it as well.

“I can’t believe you two did that last night.” Tea shakes her head. She has a mischievous smile on her face.

“We don’t remember a thing,” I finally admit. “Why were we sleeping in that room anyway? Wasn’t that supposed to be your room?”

“Yes, but after what happened…we just thought it would be more appropriate,” Tea says with a shrug.

Why is she being so mysterious?

“What happened?” I ask. I search all of my memories from last night in an effort to find one that would explain that. But nothing comes to mind.

“Wait, a second!” Juliet says, getting excited. Her eyes light up and she gets a big grin on her face. “Wait a second!”

I hate how dramatic she can be sometimes. How animated.

“Are you two really, and I mean, really, telling us that you don’t remember what happened last night?”

Dylan and I exchange looks. We both shrug and shake our heads.

“No,” I mumble. “Not really.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Juliet asks.

“Um,” I say. “Walking around the casino, going up some stairs somewhere, drinking. A lot.”

“And you?” Juliet turns to Dylan.

“Not much else,” he says. “I don’t even remember going up any stairs.”

“Oh. My. God!” Juliet shrieks and jumps up and down. “Oh. My. God!”

“What?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

Tea joins in Juliet’s excitement. But Tanner just stands back a little. He doesn’t shriek or jump, but he does flash me a smile. Clearly, our lack of memory is bringing everyone a great deal of joy.

“Oh c’mon, just tell us. What happened?” Dylan says, grabbing a bagel. He starts lathering it with a generous amount of cream cheese. “What’s the big deal?”

“Okay, okay,” Juliet says, taking a big sigh. She’s trying to calm herself down. We wait. “Okay. I can do this,” she says and then bursts out laughing.

“C’mon!” I say. I’m losing my patience. And I’m not really in the mood anyway. It’s way too bright in this room. My head is pounding. My mouth is dry. And I’m already regretting eating half the donut, even though I continue to take additional bites.

“Okay,” Juliet says. “You know what you did last night?”

“No!” Dylan and I say in unison. We’re both growing more and more impatient with every second.

“Well, let me tell you,” she says, clearly milking the moment. She should be an actress, I decide. She has epic timing. “What you two did last night was…get married!”

Dylan drops his bagel to the floor. It falls with the cream cheese side down. I start to choke and cough. Tea hands me a cup of water. I manage to get a few sips in.

“What?” I ask when I finally get some air. “What?”

“You got married,” Juliet says again. Quietly this time. The tone of her voice is serious. But it feels like a joke.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “No, that can’t be. We didn’t actually get married. It was just a joke. Please, tell me it’s a joke.”

While I have the tendency to talk and say everything that comes to mind in times of stress, Dylan, apparently, has a completely different tendency. I turn to him for some support in this. But he just stares at the wall. As if he’s frozen. Like a statue.

“Dylan.” I pull on his shirt. “We didn’t get married. Right?”

A moment later, he comes back to reality.

“No, we couldn’t have,” he whispers.

“Well, you did,” Juliet says. Her certainty frightens me.

Tea comes over to me. She puts her arm around my shoulder.

“You did, honey,” she says sympathetically.

“No, no, no.” I shake my head.

“The reason you’re wearing that dress,” Tea says, “is that you wanted to get married in white. So when Dylan asked you to marry him, and you said yes, we all went to the only place that was open in the casino and bought it.”

“But this is a bathing suit cover-up!”

“I know. It was a resort wear store. That was all they had,” Tea says.

“Look at your left hand,” Juliet says.

When I look down, I see a large diamond ring. It’s gorgeous.

“What is that?” Dylan comes over and takes my hand.

“You got it for her,” Juliet says. “Alice thought it would be funny to get one of those lollypop rings and let have that be her engagement ring. But you said that no wife of yours is going to have a lollypop ring. So you marched into Tiffany’s and got her that 1 and half carat diamond.”

“Shit.” Dylan shakes his head.

“How did this happen?” I whisper. He shrugs. “I mean, how did we even get engaged let alone get married? Why didn’t you stop us?”

All three of them look down at the floor.

“We were all drinking a lot,” Tea says. “And I guess it sounded like fun.”

“Fun?” I ask.

“It just felt like we were in a movie or something. I mean, that’s what people do in movies, not in real life,” Juliet says.

“So, what happened? How did this happen exactly?” Dylan asks.

“We were all drinking a lot,” Juliet says. “And suddenly you started to complain about Peyton. Or was it Alice who was complaining about Tristan?”

“I think Alice started first and then Dylan joined in,” Tea says. Clearly, their memory isn’t that great on all this either.

“Either way, you two were moaning about your significant others. And then Tanner said that you two would make a good couple.”

“Tanner?” I ask.

“Well, I don’t know you two well. And I was drinking a lot.”

“It was just a joke,” Tea says. “But Dylan thought it was a really good idea. He started going on and on about how you two are friends and friends make the best couples. At first, you thought it was pretty funny. I went to the bathroom and came back and you two were engaged.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

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