Jillian and Tammy are sitting side by side at pedicure stations when I finally make it to the spa. Even though I took the massive diamond off of my finger, it still feels like a weight on my hand. After spending several long minutes freaking out, I pulled myself together, took off the ring and hid it in the bottom of my purse, and decided to forget all about it until later.

Much later.

Like eighty years from now. Or at the very least after Jillian and Theo’s wedding. Oh, God, what would I even say if someone found out? I’ll be a laughing stock or worse, the pathetic loser who can only manage to snag a man if they are both hammered and in Vegas.

“Where on Earth were you, Pey?”

“I can tell you where she wasn’t,” Tammy says with a knowing smirk.

I sit heavily in the seat next to Jillian and plop my feet into the water, sloshing it over the edge of the foot bath and onto the technician who glares at me.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“So… exactly where were you last night?” Both Jillian and Tammy look at me expectantly.

Shit.

I rub my temples and try to come up with a reason why I didn’t stay in our room last night. I could lie and say I gambled all night… but they both know that my job at the library doesn’t pay enough for me to be overly frivolous. Maybe I could tell them I ran into an old friend and stayed up late chatting? No, they know all of my friends, not that I have many.

Double shit.

I take a deep breath and decide that I’ll tell them a partial truth. “I… uh… met someone last night.”

Jillian’s jaw drops in shock. Tammy smiles widely, knowingly. Oh no, what if she knows who it was and what if she knows about the ring?

“You had a one-night stand?!” Jill shrieks. Heads turn, and everyone in the spa is staring at our little group, including Cece and Jen.

Fuck a duck.

“Shhh… keep it down,” I hiss.

“Who was it with?” Jill asks. “Wait, let me guess, it was that sexy bartender, wasn’t it?”

“What, no!”

Tammy’s cheeks flush pink, and she turns her head, suddenly finding her feet very interesting. Grabbing at the opportunity to turn the tables, desperate to avoid discussing my epic mistake of a night—or what little I can remember of it—I ask, “What did you do last night, Tam?”

“Spill,” Jillian demands.

Tammy rolls her eyes. “I had a one-night stand too.”

“You sluts!”

“Jill, I swear to God, if you don’t lower your voice I’m going to murder you.” I look around the room and groan when I see Cece typing away on her phone. Probably texting everyone she knows the juicy tidbits of the conversation she’s overhearing.

“I want details,” she demands.

“I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that Pey wasn’t with Brad, the bartender.”

Thank goodness I didn’t lie and say I spent the night with him last night. That would have been a disaster. Luckily, Jill manages to grill Tammy up until our pedicures are done and we are all taken to separate rooms for our massages, so I was able to dodge a bullet on answering more questions about my night.

The massage is beyond amazing and by the time I’m back up in my room, my body is a limp noodle even though my mind is a tense, jumbled mess.

* * *

“Girl, you are not wearing that tonight,” Jillian protests.

I look down at my clothes and can’t find anything wrong with what I’m wearing. My dress is pale blue with a sweetheart neckline and hits me mid-thigh. Since I smoothly left my heels behind in Kingston’s room this morning, I’m wearing cute ballet flats. I shudder when I think of the dress I was forced into wearing last night. Tammy saw my simple black dress and threw it in the trash, then proceeded to dress me in one of her dresses that show way more skin than I’ve ever been comfortable with.

“What’s wrong with my dress?” I ask petulantly, crossing my arms over my chest.

Jillian puffs out a frustrated breath. “Pey, this is Vegas!”

“Yeah, so?” I raise an eyebrow daring her to continue.

“So, you should let go of that schoolmarm-librarian look you’ve got going on.”

“I am a librarian,” I say defensively.

“I think what Jill is trying to say, is that this is your chance to let your hair down and be a little wild,” Tammy injects, playing referee.

“Exactly,” Jillian agrees. “I just think you should try something new. You are always so prim and proper. Plus, I sort of bought you a new dress or two for the weekend.”

She pulls a dress from the closet—at least I think it’s a dress—and Tammy produces a pair of heels that are so high I’ll probably break my neck if I try to walk in them. If I thought last night’s dress was bad, this is ten times worse. Jillian thrusts the dress into my hands and pushes me toward the bathroom. Knowing there really isn’t a point in arguing I let her have her way.

I shuck my old clothes and realizing the cut of the new dress doesn’t allow for a bra, I silently curse my sister. She is tall and svelte, whereas I am short with curves to spare so going without a bra isn’t something I can really do. I pull the offending garment over my head and get a small thrill as the silky material slides over my bare breasts. Wiggling my hips, I pull the dress over my ample hips and smooth it down.

Steeling myself, I turn and look in the mirror. My eyes widen as I take in my reflection. Gone is the dull brown hair and plain features. My hair is lustrous, falling down my back in soft waves. My makeup is understated, but the artful way it was applied makes my green eyes pop. My lashes are thick and full, setting off the brightness of my eyes perfectly. The one hint of dramatic color is my lips which are coated with cherry red lipstick. As if the makeover change isn’t enough, seeing the way the dress hugs my body is enough to drop my jaw.

I have to blink several times before convincing myself that the reflection in the mirror is truly me. In some ways, I look nothing like myself, but in others, I can see a me I never thought I could be. The me in the mirror is a confident, sexy Peyton. I silently wonder what Kingston will think of my makeover, but then I shake my head, scolding myself for thinking of him. I shouldn’t care what he thinks. I’m nothing to him. Last night was just a drunken mistake.

Temporary insanity.

Yes, that’s what it was—temporary insanity. We will get an annulment and things will go back to normal. He will keep treating me with indifference and I will keep pining for him from a distance. I almost have myself convinced, but then I have a flash of a memory from last night. It’s been happening all day, little pieces from the night come back to me and I question myself.

Was it really a mistake? Could Kingston really want me?

I close my eyes, allowing myself to fall into the memory and the feeling of his hands on my body. The sweet words he murmured as he thrust inside me. His mouth on my neck, my breasts, any and everywhere he could reach while he made love to me. And that’s what it felt like… my memory isn’t of hard fucking; it’s tender and loving.

With the soreness between my legs, I’m sure it wasn’t all sweet and slow like that, but for some reason, that’s the memory that keeps barging into my mind. The night’s still mostly a blur, but the way he touched me this morning—confident, possessive—has me confused. The mystery man that mastered my body and the man I know Kingston to be don’t line up.

The way he kissed me, my lips tingle at the mere thought. His lips both firm and soft at the same time as he possessed my mouth. He owned me with that kiss, no denying that. It was so easy to fall into the kiss—so easy to crave more. And lord help me, I do want more. I have to squeeze my thighs together to relieve the ache that’s grown exponentially worse as the day goes on. A knock on the door snaps me out of my fantasy and I take one more disbelieving look at myself in the mirror. I open the door and am met with squeals from both Tammy and Jillian.

“Oh. My. God. You look ah-mazing!” Jillian enthuses. “Seriously, so flipping hot. The guys will be all over you at the club.” She does some kind of hip thrust that I think is supposed to mimic dancing, but just looks ridiculous. Tammy and I share a look, then bust up laughing.

“If any guys come at me like that, I’m running the other way,” I say through giggles.

Tammy laughs even harder. Jillian tries to look offended but falls into peals of laughter herself. This is how it always is with us… I’ve always been super close with my sister even though she’s four years younger than me. When our mom died, we banded together and made it our mission to take care of each other and our dad. Tammy lives in the apartment across the hall from mine and we hit it off right away, she seamlessly folded into our little group.

“Seriously though, do I look okay?” I ask, pulling the hem of the dress down nervously.

“You look hot, babe. The guys will be all over you,” Tammy says, then adds. “Hip thrusting optional.”

Jillian thrusts her hips at Tammy and we all laugh ourselves breathless.

My phone dings with a text from Theo.

Tell my wife-to-be that we are waiting downstairs.

“Time to go, the guys are downstairs waiting.”

“Why is he always texting you instead of me?” Jillian whines.

“Maybe because he knows that either you don’t have your ringer on, or you’ve forgotten your phone somewhere.”

Jillian gives a little harrumph in response, which makes me giggle because she knows I’m right.