Like a Best Friend | ✓

chapter twenty-nine

"Don't freak out."

Out of all the potential words to wake up to, I can think of better. I squint up at Kitty, who is leaning over me in bed, but I don't have my glasses and my eyes are tired and I can't make out the details of her expression. I can make out the brightness of the room, though. Way brighter than it should be for a six a.m. wake-up.

"Our plane left half an hour ago," Kitty says.

"Oh. Uh. Shit."

She puts my glasses on for me, bringing her into focus. Her hair is washed, her wet curls detangled and smelling of coconut, her plump lips painted pink, her eyes bright. Looking at her, my wife, I forget how to be stressed.

"I called the airline," she says, sitting on her heels with her hands on her thighs. "I woke up at eight and realized there was no way in hell we could get to the airport in time. Everything's fine. We're rebooked for Tuesday morning."

"Tuesday? That's two days away!"

She gives me a coy little smile and says, "Seems a shame to go home the morning after we got married, doesn't it? We had our fake honeymoon. Now we can have a real one."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Did you do this on purpose?"

"No!" Her hands fly up in a proclamation of innocence. "I swear I didn't. You turned your phone off last night and I didn't have any alarms set."

"Oh, shit." I haven't touched my phone since I sent Sally a picture of Kitty and me walking down the aisle. I don't even know where it is.

"It's serendipity," she says. "I'm not ready to go. I don't want to leave Vegas until I've memorized every inch of my wife's body."

"You did a pretty good job last night."

"Well, you know what they say."

"What?"

"The art of memory is in repetition." She winks at me and gives me a shit-eating grin. I want to kiss the smirk right off her pretty little mouth.

It's no wonder we slept in. It was crazy to think we could stay up until two a.m. wearing each other out in every way possible and then be up again at six. If we were on that plane right now, I'd be nauseated with exhaustion and stressed from the rush of getting to the airport for seven. Instead, I'm rested and refreshed and I don't give a fuck.

"I spoke to the front desk," Kitty says. "No-one else has booked this room until Friday, so we worked out a deal."

"You've been a busy bee."

"I didn't want you to stress out when you woke up. You'll have to sort it out with your boss, though. I thought it'd be a step too far if I tried to get in touch with him, but I figured you have unlimited paid time off, right? I think getting married is a good enough excuse to take a couple more days"

I flap my hand and say, "Screw my job. I'm taking another week off and if Jason doesn't like it, he can fire me."

Kitty chuckles. "You don't mean that."

"No. But he would never fire me." I sit up and I'm hit with a rush of lightheadedness. Shit, I got so caught up in Kitty, I forgot how much I drank before we got married. The unlimited drinks on the High Roller, the cocktails at the Eiffel Tower, the champagne at the wedding chapel. Sudden movement has triggered my hangover. "Fuck," I say, pressing a hand to my forehead.

Kitty presses a couple of pills into my hand and passes me a glass of water. "I woke up with such a headache," she says. "I didn't even feel that drunk last night. I think the adrenaline kept us going."