So I Married A Rockstar - Season 2

Ch. 13: Something Much More Important

When I opened my eyes, a bolt of light stabbed straight into my brain. I groaned and flung my arm across my face until my eyes had adjusted enough that I could risk another peek.

I was lying on the sofa in the living room, one leg dangling off the side. My head pounded, and my mouth tasted like stale whisky, and I had no idea how I'd ended up here.

The last thing I really remembered was leaping around the room, performing a fucking terrible rendition of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" using the whisky bottle as a microphone.

From there, I had only snapshots of memory: Finn performing another song for me while I cheered and pretended to fangirl – only I probably hadn't been pretending, had I? – Finn admitting that his frog on a unicycle tattoo was something he'd seen on an acid trip, though he didn't actually recall getting the tattoo; me falling over, and me hitting Finn with a sofa cushion. I had no idea why I'd done that. I thought I remembered Finn throwing his arms around me, but maybe that was wishful thinking.

Groggily, I lifted my head.

Finn was sprawled on the floor nearby, the empty whisky bottle cradled under his arm. Another bottle lay on its side nearby.

I slowly sat up, my head pitching in protest. Finn didn't stir. I had to smile. When Camden had got this drunk with a rockstar, she'd woken up married to him. I hadn't even managed to get my rockstar naked. Not fully, anyway.

My smile faded.

Finn wasn't my rockstar.

I had to remember that.

A husky groan signalled Finn waking up. He raised his head, his brown/blond hair gorgeously dishevelled, and blinked at me. Even bleary-eyed and hungover, he was still hotter than any man I'd ever seen, and I felt a deep tug somewhere inside.

"Morning," he mumbled.

I waggled my fingers at him.

Finn hauled himself into a sitting position and scrubbed his palms over his face. "Fuck, I need coffee. You want some?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Finn got to his feet and ambled into the kitchen. I twisted around to watch him.

"You showed me your dick last night," I said.

Finn paused partway through scooping coffee grounds into our mugs, and flashed me a devastating smile. "If you're really lucky, you might get to see it again."

"How will I ever contain my excitement?"

My phone rang and I fumbled to retrieve it from where it had fallen down the back of the sofa. Camden's number flashed onscreen. I scrambled off the sofa and headed for the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Finn said.

"Camden's calling and I really don't need her to overhear you talking about your dick," I said.

Mischief sparked in Finn's eyes.

As soon as I was in the hall, I hit answer and smoothed my flyaway hair, even though Camden couldn't see it. "Hi," I said, as brightly as possible.

"Hi." Camden's voice was distinctly flatter, and my stomach dipped. "You have a good night?"

I faltered.

Oh God, had I texted or called her last night? What had I said?

"Um, yeah?" I said.

Silence.

I swallowed.

What the fuck had I said?

I went back to my messages and winced. Apparently I'd sent a few last night. Several were to Lily, though luckily she hadn't read them yet, but mostly I'd texted Camden. The texts had started innocently, with me admitting I was getting drunk or excitedly exclaiming that a song we both loved had just come on, but then – drunken fool that I was – I'd sent her a video of Finn and me leaping around the living room, singing our hearts out. If that wasn't bad enough, I'd followed the video with several texts lamenting over Finn's gorgeousness, his chiselled abs, his sexy-as-hell voice.