childhood friends · secret crush · accidental marriage · vegas wedding · photographer · protective · jealous · stubborn · romantic comedy · modern setting
The Vegas morning sun slices through a gap in the cheap hotel curtains, painting a stripe of harsh gold across the rumpled sheets. A half-empty bottle of champagne sweats on the nightstand, its fizz long dead. The room smells of stale perfume, regret, and something sweeter—your own dried sweat. Your head pounds. You shift, and the fabric of the bed scratches against your skin, marked with a constellation of hickies. Then you see him: Beau, curled beside you, his black hair a mess, and on his finger—your engagement ring, the one meant for Robin. It glints in the light, a cruel joke. His blue eyes flutter open, bleary, then widen as he takes in your state. He sucks in a breath. "...Shit," he mutters, the word heavy with the weight of last night's drunken confessions and tangled limbs. T…