Chapter Text
Las Vegas, Sunday Morning, 9am - Penelope
Her head hurt. Her throat was dry. Her stomach was churning and the only thing Penelope could do in that very moment was burrow deeper into the scratchy hotel blankets and mentally tell herself she wasn't dying. She'd just drunk too much. She didn't need to be sick, she just needed to breathe deeply and eventually, make sure she got herself some water.
She was ok. Not dying.
What had happened?
Benedict.
She frowned.
What an awful idea. Having his stag do, sorry, ‘Benedict's Big Bridgerton Bonanza Bachelor’ in Vegas of all places. Much to Sophie's displeasure (maybe), Penelope was considering killing him once she no longer felt like death itself.
Aside from horrendously hungover, she was probably broke as fuck now too. There wasn't a lot she could remember, yet, but she did know she'd spent a lot of time in the casino. She didn’t have money she could afford to gamble.
Fuck.
The bed moved.
She frowned further, still unable to open her eyes and get her bearings. But no… the bed was definitely moving.
There was a groan.
A distinctly masculine groan from beside her and immediately she wanted to die. She had slept with someone last night? How did she not remember that? Surely she would remember… it had been so long and god help her if she’d finally gotten laid for the first time in a year and didn’t remember any of it. What a waste of an orgasm (assuming this mystery boy got her off).
Wait…
She stopped and thought it through. She still had her clothes on. Sure, her short, tight dress had ridden up through the night and was around her waist in a manner that was incredibly uncomfortable, but her underwear was still firmly in place. She didn't think she'd had sex. It didn’t feel like she had.
So why was there a guy in bed beside her?
'Fuck my life,' the man next to her said.
She froze. She recognised that voice. Would recognise it anywhere. It only belonged to her best friend Colin. Colin was in her bed. Next to her.
What the fuck?
'Colin?' she asked. Her voice was raw, raspy from sleep and dehydration.
There was a beat, a pause of silence and then,
'Pen?' she could feel him rolling over to face her. Her back was still to him. She still hadn't mustered up the courage to open her eyes and feel the full onslaught of her headache. 'What are you doing in my bed?' he asked.
'Your bed? This is my bed?'
'No. We are definitely in my room.' If there was a hint of amusement in his voice, Penelope chose to deliberately ignore it.
'We are?' she forced herself then, to blink her eyes open. Her already pounding head protested at the onslaught of light. Even though in reality it was only a small sliver of sunlight peeking through the hotel curtains. Sure enough, this wasn't her room. It was bigger, for one, and the configuration was entirely different. 'Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't remember how I got here.'
He chuckled and she wanted to curse him for being so lively while she still wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't dying.
'I don't remember either,' he admitted.
She let out a groan and rolled over onto her back, blinking up at the ceiling.
'I think I'm dying,' she said.
'No. We just drank too much. Luckily Daphne prepared those hangover kits,' he threw the bed covers to the side and sprung up out of bed. Penelope couldn't help but watch him, and notice he was wearing boxer shorts and a white t-shirt. The shorts were, well short, hitting him mid thigh and gave her a view of his muscular legs she couldn’t help but appreciate and the tee clung to his upper body in a way that had her imagination running rampant about what was hidden underneath. But… they definitely didn't have sex. She definitely didn't have sex with Colin in a drunken haze and couldn't remember it. Good.
If she was ever going to sleep with Colin (that would be a very very bad idea) she wanted to remember it.
She watched him move around the room, admiring the sight, before he finally found whatever it was he was looking for. He then walked around to her side of the bed and gave her a bottle of water, two paracetamol and a Gatorade.
'These should help,' he said.
She forced herself to sit up, cracked open the water and downed the painkillers hoping they would give her some relief from her headache. Beside her, Colin was doing the same thing.
Her phone was sitting by the bed and she grabbed it to check the time. The screen remained blank.
‘My phone’s dead,’ she sighed. ‘Do you have the time?’
Colin reached for his phone. It was also dead. Then remembered he was wearing a watch.
‘Shit. It’s already nine. We’re late for breakfast.’
She let out another sigh and flopped back against the pillows.
‘We will never hear the end of it.’
‘Well hopefully if we were both this drunk, others were too and are also running late this morning.’
‘Who schedules breakfast for eight thirty the day after a big night anyway?’ she asked.
‘People who seem immune to hangovers,’ Colin said. ‘I swear I’m the only one in my family who really suffers.’
'You seem fine to me,' she pointed out. He did seem far more lively than she was able to muster up.
He shook his head. 'It's only the promise of coffee getting me by. I'm going to change quickly, then we can take you to your room, get you changed and head down to the restaurant.'
'Ok, sure,' she watched him disappear into the bathroom and tried not to think about how very naked he would be in there as he changed his clothes (and how sorry she would be to see him back to fully dressed). While she waited for him she downed the gatorade, hoping beyond all hope the electrolytes were what she needed.
When Colin finally emerged he looked annoyingly picture perfect. He was wearing jeans and a button up short sleeve, his face looked fresh and his hair was somehow perfectly styled off out of his face (though she kind of missed that one curl that had been falling into his eyes). There was nothing about him that indicated having gotten black out drunk on tequila the night before. She scowled at him.
'What?' he asked.
'How do you look so perfect?' she asked.
His eyebrows raised and his cheeks flushed at her compliment. 'I uh… don't?'
She rolled her eyes. 'Whatever. You look good and you know it. Come on, let's get me fixed up,' she forced herself out of bed, straightened up her dress and grabbed her bag that had been flung across the opposite side of the room. She fished around in it, double checking she hadn't lost her key card through the night. Luckily, drunk her wasn't completely stupid and had kept a hold of it.
Her room was the floor below Colin's, so the elevator ride was quick, and she was ever so grateful that they didn't run into anyone on the way. She absolutely looked like she was on a walk of shame. And she kind of was. She just hadn't had the sex part of a big night.
She opened the door to her room and it was exactly as she'd left it the night before. A huge mess that was going to be today her's problem. The version of herself from yesterday didn't anticipate getting absolutely obliterated the way she had.
She rummaged through her suitcase and managed to find clean underwear, and a casual dress before she disappeared into the bathroom.
'Do you mind putting my phone on to charge? The cable is by the bed,' she asked Colin through the door.
'Sure,' she heard him respond.
She then took a moment to look at herself in the mirror, and once more, wanted to die (she already felt dead, might as well get all the way there). Colin had seen her like this. Fuck her life. Her hair was a tangled mess, it was going to be nightmare to sort out. Her make up… what had once been a fantastic smoky eye was now grey dust all over her face. She looked horrendous. She couldn't believe Colin had seen her looking like this. And let her walk around the hotel.
'Fuck my life,' she said out loud.
'Are you ok?' Colin asked.
'Fine!' she yelled back.
She got to work, first on her face. Grabbing the scratchy, bleached washcloth from the pile of hotel towels, she wet it and scrubbed at her face until most of the make up was gone. Then found her cleanser in her toiletries bag and used that to get rid of the rest and hoped that a night of sleeping in her makeup the way she had wasn't going to result in pimples.
She took a brush to her hair and managed to get out most of the knots. She tied it up into a messy bun, the best she could do without washing her hair, or finding her straightener.
Then, finally she changed.
She gave herself one final examination in the mirror before deciding her look was at least acceptable enough to go the breakfast. She didn't look great. But she at least didn't look like someone who had no memory of the night before. The good news however, was that her headache was finally starting to lessen a little. After some caffeine, she had hope it might go away all together.
She exited the bathroom and found Colin sitting on her bed waiting for her. In the short time she'd been the bathroom she'd forgotten just how good he could make a casual outfit look and once again found it extremely unfair.
'Alright, let's go,' she said.
'Great,' he stood up and they left the room.
The elevator down to the restaurant felt long. Really really long.
'Do you uh, remember anything from last night?' Colin asked.
'Uh… I remember playing roulette with you,' she said, a flash to her and Colin standing at the roulette table, making up their own rules, and having a 'winner buys the loser a shot' rule in place. 'And then…' she frowned. 'Benedict holding a bouquet of flowers. Weird. That's it. I've got nothing else.'
'Hm,' he said, chewing his lip. 'That's about all I can remember. Not the Benedict part though. I remember Anthony scowling. But that's… I mean every day that ends in Y anyway.'
She let out a giggle. 'True.'
'Maybe the others can fill us in,' he said.
'Maybe it's better we don't know. Perhaps our brains are protecting us.'
'Perhaps,' he didn't quite sound like he agreed with her though and she wondered what was troubling him. Was it this morning? Her being in his bed? She was fairly confident they didn't have sex.
'If you're worried about, um, well, us… I don't think we-'
'It's not that,' he said quickly. 'I know we didn't sleep together.'
'Oh. Right,' she couldn't place why it troubled her so much that he had also come to that conclusion, and was quick to affirm it. It was a good thing they didn't have sex. She had to keep reminding herself. They didn't need sex they couldn't remember with each other making the morning even more awkward, and complicating anything.
The elevator finally opened up to the restaurant. It was full, and busy. Hotel guests everywhere enjoying the huge buffet spread and preparing themselves for another day in Vegas. Both she and Colin scanned the room before quickly finding the long table full of Bridgerton's, and Benedict's arty friends. They checked in at the front counter before making their way over to them.
Benedict spotted them first and whooped.
Whooped?
His cheer at their entrance had everyone else in their party turning their heads and also applauding once they spotted them.
'The fuck…?' Penelope muttered.
'No idea,' Colin said.
Benedict was making their way over to them. 'I have to say, I didn't appreciate my Bachelor party upstaged like that. But if it was anyone, at least it was you two,' he gave Colin a clap on the back, and kissed Penelope on the cheek. 'Welcome to the chaos Sis. I can already tell you're going to fit in just fine,' he said to her.
'What?' she asked.
It was then that Anthony approached them. He gripped Colin by the upper arm.
'I need to talk to you,' he growled out, looking even more displeased than usual.
'What?' It was Colin's turn to look confused.
Penelope tried to catch his eye to figure out if he had any more of an idea of what everyone was talking about. But before she could, Anthony had hauled Colin off to an empty corner of the restaurant.
Penelope turned back to the large table. Most people had resumed their breakfasts, but Eloise was still looking at her. Penelope tentatively took the seat next to her friend.
'What is going on?' Penelope asked.
'I had the same question,' Eloise sounded on edge.
'What do you mean?' Penelope asked, she looked around the room again, hoping for some kind of sign or answer to appear. 'What happened?'
'What do you mean what happened?' Eloise asked.
Penelope felt herself going red. 'I don't remember anything from last night,' she admitted. 'What did I do?'
Eloise dropped the tension from her body and gave Penelope a worried look. 'Nothing?' She asked.
Penelope shook her head. 'I remember taking shots after playing roulette with Colin. But after that… it's pretty blank until this morning.'
'You really don't remember a thing?'
Penelope was starting to panic now. 'El, what happened? You have me worried something really bad happened.'
She glanced up to see Colin and Anthony making their way back over to the table. Colin looking white as a ghost. Shocked, like he might have actually just seen a ghost. Something had happened. She was convinced now. And whatever it was, it had to do with her and Colin, and it wasn't good.
'Eloise, tell me. Please,' she begged. She needed to know, what could possibly have her best friend so worried about her, and Colin looking like he was about to pass out. What happened?
Eloise sighed. 'You really don't remember marrying Colin last night?'
'Excuse me, what?'