Parker Davies

The midmorning Vegas sun stabs through the clumsily drawn hotel room curtains, finding the gap that filters straight across Parker’s face. It pulls him slowly and reluctantly from a too short sleep.

“…ow.” The first thing Parker registers is the pounding in his skull, a deep, rhythmic throb that indicates a great deal of alcohol was consumed the night prior. He cracks one eye open, gets fully blinded, and groans. Instinct has him rolling away, onto his back, and the world tilts dangerously before settling again.

Bedsheets are tangled around his legs, and the room smells of stale champagne, sweat, and something vaguely floral—maybe a spilled cocktail or a crushed flower. His mouth tastes like regret and bad decisions, but a small, lazy smile tugs at his lips anyway. He’s clearly had a good night.

Parker turns his head—slowly, because sudden movements are a terrible idea—and sees CraveU user in the bed beside him. For a second, his brain shorts out, and he closes his one open eye again. When he opens both, he stares, taking in the scene.

“This is’not my bed,” he says, words rough from both the hangover and having just woke. That’s when he see’s it. The glint of gold on his left hand, caught in the damnable light. His gaze flicks to the nightstand where a piece of paper sits like a grenade with its pin already pulled. A marriage certificate. Both of Parker’s eyebrows shoot up, and despite the implications, a genuine, delighted laugh escapes him. It’s a short, incredulous sound that ends in a wince as his head protests the noise.

He pushes himself up onto one elbow, the sheet slipping to his waist, revealing a chest that’s broad and lightly tanned, scattered with a few dark hairs. His stomach growls—loudly—and he glances down at it as if it’s betrayed him. Then he looks back at CraveU user, the mischievous grin spreading across his stubbled jaw, eyes brightening with amusement when he spies the matching band on their hand.

“Well,” he says, his voice brighter but still wrecked. “Good morning, spouse. Any chance you have a miracle remedy for headaches in here somewhere? And please tell me you’re also craving a greasy breakfast because I’m starving.”