Page 24 of All Bets Are Off

“Seriously? How old is that guy?”

“What?” I say innocently, widening my eyes.

“Go to bed if you’re so drunk you’re wandering off alone with guys that are way too old for you,” he mutters, and I hold up my hands in faux confusion, looking to Hailey for backup.

“I was not wandering off alone with him. You’re not the only ones who are allowed to run back to their room to grab something. I was on my way to . . . to grab a tampon, okay?”

“Ohhh-kay,” Theo says with a grimace, immediately changing the subject. “Are Addy and Liam having a good night?”

“They were, right up until she spilled her drink down him,” I say with a sigh, because it’s not like Addy to be so clumsy. “They’re off getting cleaned up. Melissa was on the phone somewhere, and the rest of the guys are still in the club.”

Hailey shakes her head in dismay. “I think we may need to just scrap my itinerary for this weekend.”

“Yes,” I say, a bit too quickly, as I somehow manage to resist glaring at her for giving each of us printed copies of it in the first place. “Scrap the itinerary. Let’s make new plans.”

She manages a small laugh, but I can tell she’s kind of disappointed. “It seems we have no choice . . . We’re all scattered all over the place, and I have a feeling this might be the case all weekend.”

Theo nudges his arm against hers and reassuringly says, “I’m sure there are still parts of the plan we can all stick to. Or at least, you girls can stick to, since us guys were never part of the plan in the first place. Don’t worry. All your planning won’t have been for nothing.”

God, Theo is down bad for her. It’s so hard not to roll my eyes right there in front of them.

The elevator reaches our floor and we head down the long corridor toward our rooms. When we reach the two side-by-side doors, we all awkwardly look at each other, and I get the weird sense that I’m not the only one lying about what I’m up to.

“Well . . . See you guys in the club?” I say, scanning my key card.

“Yeah. See you downstairs,” Theo agrees, and as we slip into our rooms, I hear him say, “Hails, we have a problem. I need to pee.”

I snicker. I’m not the only one around here who needs good luck; it’s clear that Hailey needs some too.

13

Adelaide

Liam storms several feet ahead of me, and I don’t know why I desperately try to catch up. I know what lies in store for me, yet somehow, as always, I believe there’s a chance I can still defuse the situation. Despite the ringing in my ears, I pick up the pace and reach out for his hand.

“Hey, slow down,” I say gently. “We’ll get you changed and we’ll be back in the club in ten minutes. It’s okay, babe.”

Liam yanks his hand away from mine and fumbles in his pocket for his room key. “I haven’t unpacked yet, Addy, so all my other shirts are going to be creased like hell.”

“I’ll iron one for you,” I offer, and Liam just scoffs as though it isn’t an entirely reasonable solution. It would take me literally two minutes to iron a fresh shirt for him, but Liam is so pissed off, he’d rather just be stubborn than actually fix anything.

He scans the key card and strides into his room—the room I believe he’s sharing with Connor—while stripping off his damp shirt, and doesn’t even hold the door open for me. I catch it as it’s closing, hesitantly following him in. When it clicks shut behind me, bile rises in my throat, because now we are truly alone.

I get that feeling deep in my gut again, the one I’ve been trying to ignore more and more often lately. Is it normal to feel like this with the person you’re marrying? I feel like it’s not.

Liam throws his bag onto his bed and starts pulling out different shirts, cussing under his breath. He flings one toward me without even giving me the courtesy of looking my way, and I squeeze my fingers around the linen fabric as I turn to the closet to retrieve the ironing board.

“Why are you so drunk that you’re spilling drinks everywhere?” he questions, and I hear the tab of a beer can cracking open. He collapses into an armchair, knees spread wide, watching me with soulless eyes as I heave the ironing board into the center of the room.

“I am not spilling drinks everywhere,” I mumble, springing the board upright and fetching the iron. “It’s so dark and loud in that club, and I bumped into you. It was an accident.”

“See? This is why I had to sacrifice my own bachelor party in Cancun and come to Vegas instead. You need me around to stop you from embarrassing yourself all weekend,” he mutters, taking a swig of his beer. “Who knows what the hell you’d be doing if you knew I wasn’t watching?”

I knew it. I knew Liam’s whole spiel back home about combining our parties being a way of us all having more fun was a load of crock. Unexpectedly, a hot wave rises inside me.

“When do I ever embarrass you?” I ask. It feels risky to dare argue back, but I figure I’m okay while he’s across the room in that chair and with an ironing board shielding me. I spread out his shirt, run the iron over the creases. “We go to work together every day, and every day I give one-hundred-percent effort. We get home and I don’t go anywhere, Liam. I take care of the house and I cook our meals and I try my best to make life easy for you. When do I even get the chance to embarrass you?”

“You just did, didn’t you?” he snaps. “You’re going to be my wife, Addy, or did you forget that? You want me to take over the firm? You want us to own a six-bedroom home on six acres of land one day? You want me to buy you a cute little convertible and let you stay at home with our kids? Then act like someone who deserves those things. I could really be something, Adelaide. I can give you the most incredible life, but you need to . . . you need to handle yourself with class.” He shakes his head in frustration.