I snapped the lid shut and set it by my chair before stretching out. "I can't be held responsible for my actions, 'tis true. It's all your fault."
"I'm not apologizing for helping you get laid," Quinn said. "And since I said they'd get it on before Christmas, I win the bet. I'll let you know my terms soon."
Ryleigh cursed. "Thanks a lot, Pita. You couldn't have waited until Valentine's Day?"
"You know me. Hella impatient," I said. "Now, if you're quite done, there's … uh … something else. And before you freak out-"
I should've known better than to start with that, because Shayne jumped off her lounger. "Are you pregnant?" she cried out, so loud that every head in the pool jerked in our direction.
Well, that's an unexpected deduction.
The sea of amused faces were staring at my stomach, so I raised my voice for the benefit of everyone eavesdropping. "That would be a hell no. There will be no babies stretching out my vag ever, thank you very much."
"Oh bloody hell. You scared me for a second." Shayne breathed a sigh of relief, her hand going over her heart.
"Nothing is worse than the idea of Paige with a rugrat," Quinn agreed. "No offense."
"None taken."
"Okay, so you're not pregnant, thank fuck, but Paige," Ryleigh said, sounding wary, as if approaching a wild animal. "What did you do?"
"It's nothing I can't fix," I said, then I paused and considered that statement. "Well, nothing my lawyer can't fix."
"Your lawyer?" Shayne squeaked. "Jesus Christ, did you go to jail?"
I threw my hands up. "For fuck's sake, no. There's no godforsaken baby on the way, I didn't go to jail, and I didn't end up in a hospital from over-intoxication. I just got married." When no screaming met my ears, I smiled. "See? No big deal."
If I'd thought they looked shell-shocked to hear about my horizontal mambo with Dawson, it was nothing compared to the dumbfounded expressions staring back at me now. It was like I'd told them I'd decided to shoot baby unicorns out of my ass for a living. Utterly absurd.
"No big deal," Quinn repeated. "No big deal?"
"Exactly. Like I said."
Ryleigh tapped the side of her head. "I'm sorry, I must have water in my ears, because it sounded like you said you got married."
"I did."
"You … but … " She couldn't seem to find the words, and Shayne came to her rescue.
"Who in God's name did you marry, Paige?"
I rolled my eyes, not that they could see the move from behind my darkened lenses. "Who do you think? The bastard babysitter."
"Dawson?" Shayne's eyes lit up. "You married Dirty Dick Dawson?"
I held up my drink. "Surprise. Cheers."
Quinn's head was going back and forth. "You've gone and done it. You've actually lost your mind."
"Relax. It'll get taken care of. People are idiots and get married all the time. It's an easy fix," I said.
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Ryleigh repeated behind the hand that covered her mouth. "You're married. Like married married. I mean, really married?"
I nodded. "As opposed to fake-married? I know. I thought the same thing too at first."
"But … " Ryleigh looked so bewildered that it was hard not to laugh. "It's just that it's … you. You're the most anti-marriage person I've ever met."
"Seriously, Paige. What the bloody hell possessed you to get married? Have you gone completely mad?" Shayne asked.
"Hello," I said. "Did you not hear the word 'gold' earlier? As in Goldschläger."
"People don't get blackout drunk and marry someone they hate in Vegas," she replied.
"Uh. Yeah, they do. All the time."
Ryleigh waved her hands to shut us up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute. How did this even happen? Where did it happen? Please tell me it wasn't officiated by one of those tacky Elvis impersonators."
"God no, nothing like that," I said, and took a long sip of my cucumber water. It's a lot more shameful than an Elvis impersonator … "From what I heard, I couldn't even be bothered to get out of the limo, which means your brilliant, sound-of-mind BFF-wait for it-got married in a drive-thru. And yes, you heard that right." I lifted my drink. "Cheers again. And just so you guys know, I completely blame all of you for what happened. If you'd been there, you would've been the pussy guard and Dawson would've fucked off. But nooooo. You had to go have your own lives, while I-"
"Got married." Quinn's mouth opened, shut, and then a surprised laugh left her. "Holy shit. I can't believe this."
"Way to put the blame on us, asshole," Ryleigh said.
"Did you really just call us the pussy guard?" Shayne asked. "And if you're really married, where's your ring?"
"You don't buy a ring for a sham marriage, hon. That's a cockblock. Besides, I've got my own ring for when the situation demands it." I did, too. After planning my first big wedding event, I went straight to Tiffany's and bought a diamond band that I kept on my ring finger whenever I was working, just to keep the women from side-eyeing me and thinking I was a threat when I had to wrangle the guys for the ceremony. I hardly had the stomach to wear the thing now, though. Tainted, it was.
Ryleigh balked. "Paige, you're married, sham or not." I went to interrupt her, but she paid me no mind. "And don't give me that crap about a ring being a cockblock. Damn right it is-you're a monogamous woman now."
I sat up and glared at her over my sunglasses. "Don't you ever say that dirty word to me. This shit doesn't count, especially considering it's getting annulled tomorrow."
"What? Why would you-" Ryleigh started, but Quinn put a hand on her arm.
"Paige," Quinn said, "I'm not gonna lie and say this doesn't come as a shock to all of us, but … maybe you should take a few days to think about if that's what you really want."
My eyes popped. Was she serious? What did I even need to think about? There was no way a marriage would work out for me, and definitely not with my former neighbor turned … whatever he was. "Excuse me? You think Dawson is what I really want? We'd kill each other."
"Well, it's obvious you two take it out on each other in the bedroom," Shayne said with a small smile, and to that, I shot her my perfectly manicured middle finger.
"I'm just saying that maybe this happened for a reason," Quinn continued. "But let's face it, the sexual tension when you get together is ridiculous. It's like you're one-upping each other any time we go out because you're fighting whatever this attraction is between you two. We notice it. Everyone notices it. Hell, I'm sure even Dawson knows it." Before I could protest, she said, "Now, don't bite my head off for this, like I know you're dying to, but maybe you two could … I don't know … spend some time together. You used to be friends, right?"
I flounced back into the chair and crossed my arms.
"Paige … right?" she said, and I sighed before reluctantly nodding. "Okay. So you start there. Get to know each other again. You might be surprised at what you find."
"I know what I'll find," I said. "A manboy with the mentality of his nine-and-a-half-inch cock."
Ryleigh's lips parted as she shot a glance at the girls. "Uh … does anyone else here volunteer to take charge of said nine-and-a-half inches?"
I shook my head. "You guys are perverts."
Letting out a laugh, Ryleigh swung her legs over the side of her chair to face me, and it didn't escape my notice that she was still wearing a pair of bright red heels to go with her black-and-white vintage polka-dot bikini. Heels. At a pool. That was Ryleigh, all right. "Like you're not proud of that fact. Look, I know he drives you nuts, but I think he's a pretty good guy under all that bravado. Maybe give him the chance to prove it to you."
"And the guyliner is hot," Shayne said, and when I shot her a look, she said, "what? It is."
"I know you don't honestly think Dick and I are a good idea," I said.
"It's not the worst thing I've ever heard. But … maybe don't get knocked up," Quinn suggested.
"Gee, thanks, that's super helpful."
She twirled her long jet-black hair into a coil before pinning it on top of her head. "Anytime, bitch."
"Ugh. Jesus." I rubbed my temples, a headache of epic proportions coming on. "You're talking like he'd even want to stay married to me. Which nobody in their right mind would. I'm insane. Obviously."
Ryleigh's eyes sparked with mischief. "Like attracts like, right? Maybe you've met your match."
"That's it. I'm going to the Grotto. All this Dick talk is gonna make me yak," I said, standing up and stepping into my flip-flops.
Quinn laughed. "That's gotta be a first."