Jax (Titan #9)(66)

Seven blinked, feeling the swell of the room rush back as reality tugged her from the dreamland of sugar and kisses. "Jax…"

"Yeah, babe."

"You're right in front of me, and—I can't stop thinking about you. I just wanted to tell you that."

He hooked an arm around her neck, pulling Seven's sticky cheek to his chest, and she listened as he took a deep breath. "Hell, Seven." His hand stroked her back amid the chapel's chaos. "I always knew you were an adventure. I didn't know where you'd take me. Maybe the best things are the ones that show up without planning—"

"More cake?" A waitress in a sparkly dress held out napkins. "Champagne? Have a seat, please." Then she ushered them into a tiny pew.

The soul-sharing moment was shattered, and Seven peeled away from Jax, instantly missing their intimate conversation. "Yes, please."

The woman reached for a nearby tray with tiny champagne bottles and straws as Jax guided Seven into a row. They were handed more cake and alcohol than they knew what to do with, but the pews came with drink holders and pop-up snack stands.

"Look at this." Seven played with the spring-loaded wedding-bell-shaped cake holders that popped out from the pew in front of them. "Someone thought of everything."

"Cheers, princess." Jax held up his bottle to hers, and they clinked, kissed, ate cake, and kissed again.

Couple after couple were married in front of them, and after the fourth or fifth one, they developed hand signals to covertly decide the over-under of the couple's lifelong likelihood.

A new, glittery waitress appeared with two pink bubbling shot glasses. "Would you two want a sweet-nothings shooter? It matches your hair."

Well, of course they wanted shots that matched her hair.

Jax held his up. "To Vegas."

"Vegas." Seven did the same. "The best weekend ever."





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO


The sunlight seemed as if it made noise, and the air conditioner's hum vibrated like a jackhammer. Seven burrowed her face into the cool feather pillow, tugging the comforter over her head as though layers of cotton were enough to shield her from the headache-inducing racket. That plus her grossly sweet dry mouth were swift reminders as to why she didn't enjoy overindulging. Ugh. She couldn't remember how the tail end of the evening had gone.

She pulled at the covers again, tucking them around her pulsing skull, when her fingers caught in her hair. A hair barrette or tie dug into her scalp, pinching, but as she grappled to pull out the culprit, Seven realized it was a headband. She tugged at the tangled mess, threading her fingers into her hair and—froze.

What the heck…

Confusion morphed into panic as the tips of her fingers caressed the headband's netting and flipped the short length down to reveal white tulle. "Oh no."

Seven tore the headband, not caring about how her hair knotted on its spines, then lurched back as she threw the mini wedding veil away.

Her hands shook, and she gasped at the gold band around her left ring finger. "Oh God. Oh no. Oh nooo."

With a quick glance, Seven confirmed that she didn't have any clothes on and that Jax was next to her. Peeling the covers back—holy shit—neither did he.

"Are you awake?" Seven hissed loud enough to wake their neighbors.

He didn't budge. She leaned over him and pulled at the edge of the pillow under which his hands were shoved. The left one wore a matching ring.

Seven jumped back to her side of the bed, and the night started to come back in flashes. Cake and champagne, the wedding chapel, and so many people wearing glitter and sequins. "Jax, wake up."

He groaned, mumbled, and rolled face down with a handful of covers. She grabbed them back. "Wake up," she hissed, sitting up in bed and giving him a kick in the leg. "You have got to wake up right now."

"Jesus fucking Christ." He yanked the pillow off his head and rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. "Stop yelling."

"We have a problem," she snapped.

"Yeah. We're both awake. And hungover."

"Give me your hand." She snatched it before he could move and held up both their ring fingers for his inspection. "A big, big problem."

Jax inched back and propped himself up, forehead creased with deep lines as he blinked awake. "What is that?"

Seven snatched her hand back. "What do you think that is?"

"Um." He scrubbed his eyes. "Can you freak out in a lower volume?"

"I think I'm going to puke. I'm not this irresponsible."

"Aim for the trash can." He fluffed his pillow and lay back down.

Maybe he was the type to panic in silence. She wasn't the type to ever have unforeseen circumstances happen so experience with panic was a new problem instead of her plan A, B, C, D, E…

"Jax, do something!" Because her heart was about to explode out of her chest.

"Will it get you to please calm down?"

"Yes," Seven tried in a quieter octave.

"Right." He nodded then reached for the nightstand, picked up the phone, and pressed a button on the dial pad. What did he think? Vegas had divorce attorneys at the concierge desk? It was Vegas. Maybe they did. She had no idea. But either way, he was Titan, and he could fix this.