Page 49 of Breaking the Ice

Twenty-One

ISABELLA

Pounding.

In my head? On a door? I don’t know. It hurts too much to figure it out. The hotel room is dim, lit by a beam of sunlight streaming in through a crack in the curtains. I roll over⁠—

And hit another body in my bed.

Oh. Thankfully the pounding stops—I think it was in the hallway—and I can figure out what is going on.

I’m generally not a hookup type of girl. Sex is mediocre, fine at best. The emotional intimacy is the appeal for me. So why would I want to do it with a stranger? Not my vibe.

Did the spirit of Vegas get a hold of me last night and⁠—

The body rolls over and opens his eyes.

Evan.

I swallow. Instead of regret filling up inside me, I just feel content. My head still aches, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Good morning.”

“Hi there.” His answering grin sets off a flurry of butterflies in my stomach.

He’s everything I imagined in this moment—soft and sleepy with a pillow crease across his cheek. There’s a hint of blond stubble dusting his face, and I reach out to stroke it.

And gasp. The meager sunlight glints off a gold band on my finger. On the fourth finger of my left hand.

A memory from last night rushes into my brain. Evan, smiling so wide his face might crack, and slipping it on my hand.

He blinks, as if bringing it into focus, and shifts back as he grabs my hand, inspecting it. “Whoa.”

Then I see the matching band on his finger.

“Evan. Did we get married last night?” I’m pretty proud of the way my voice stays matter of fact and doesn’t betray the internal panic that is buzzing in my chest.

He nods, his face solemn. “We did.”

I shift, sit upright, and glance down at myself. I’m wearing…his hockey jersey? At least I think it’s his and not mine. I can’t see the name on the back, but it’s much larger than the one I own. Glancing around, I spy my white dress, crumpled on the floor next to the bed. I rub my thighs together, trying to gauge things.

“Did we…have sex?” And I don’t remember it? The anxiety I’m feeling intensifies, and my hands tremble.

“No.” Relief floods me. “You practically fell asleep in the elevator up here last night. I carried you across the threshold and told you that we had our entire lives to have awesome sex. You insisted on wearing my jersey as pajamas because it had your new name on it, and then we pretty much passed out.”

“Oh, yeah.” Memories begin to dawn on me. “I was really impressed that you could scoop me up so easily.”

He scoffs. “Of course I can. I’m a hockey player, and you’re not heavy. Plus, if we’d done that, you’d remember.”

For some reason, that stills the worry rattling around my brain, and I smile. Then reality comes crashing back.

“Thanks. But, um, we should probably talk about the fact that we got married.”

“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his blond hair. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“It did.” While I wasn’t exactly sober, I was so happy in that wedding chapel. The guy I liked wanted to marry me. Evan was ready to be monogamous and commit? Amazing. It solved the problem of my dad, too. Because he could object to Evan as my boyfriend, but husband? That’s a different story. But now, in the harsh light of dawn… “It all sounds crazy, though, doesn’t it?”

He blows out a breath. “Too crazy?”

“Maybe?” I take stock of my feelings. The panic was mostly from not remembering everything that happened, but the fog is lifting and clarity is setting in. Along with regret. Although it’s more regret over doing something wild, something irresponsible, not about committing to Evan. “I like you. I don’t hate the idea. But we’re really young. It was impulsive. What will people say?”