I Do (Hate You) by Sienna Blake

Shell

The Present…

 

 

We’d dug through the trash, the bed linens, the drawers and even the refrigerator for those damn handcuff keys in James’s villa but still had no luck. Well, it was mainly James looking and me slowly following since I was attached to him.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asked. “You’re normally talking my ear off or telling me what I’m doing wrong.”

I pulled off a couch cushion and patted underneath with my free hand, trying to stall while I pondered whether to tell him that I had recognized the song he’d been singing in the bathroom. The one we’d danced to at Talia and Logan’s wedding reception.

James had kept humming it while I washed my hands in the bathroom sink, occasionally remembering the lyrics. “La da da…the look on your face…hmm hmm…never live without you…da da da.”

He didn’t remember all the lyrics, but I did. Every one of them.

When I heard it on the radio, I never sang along. But I remembered the feel of James’s hand on my bare back and how he spun me off the dance floor. And then later how we tore each other’s clothes off.

James stopped singing as we searched through his villa. I couldn’t stop wondering why that song was going through his head. His musical tastes ran more to the loud, metalhead type of songs, not slow and romantic.

“Seriously, why are you so quiet? Is your memory of last night coming back at all? Like where those keys are? Because they sure aren’t in this couch.”

James pulled his hand out from under the seat that he’d been patting down and turned to face me. I kept fussing with the pillows so I wouldn’t have to look at him.

“No. I don’t remember anything,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I just wanted to say thank you for singing in there, while I was in the bathroom. I mean, this is such an awkward situation and that really helped.”

He grinned. “Well, I’m a pretty resourceful guy. I can’t seem to remember where I heard it though. Do you know it? Hey, maybe someone was playing it last night and it’s a clue to what happened to us.”

I put down the pillow and finally looked at him. I doubted that we’d heard it last night, but I didn’t want to talk about that dance at the wedding or what we did after.

James closed his eyes and hummed again, moving his index finger back and forth. “Do you know that song? Da da da…we almost missed our chance…da da da…something something…we finally made our way here…then there’s a part about devotion and sacrifice. I can’t remember the next line.”

“We had to move through the hate so we could get to the love,” I croaked out.

James’s eyes popped open. “That’s it! Yeah, that song has been stuck in my head all morning. I don’t think I heard it last night though, I think I heard it…oh.”

By the look on his face, I could tell he remembered. I held my breath, hoping he would say something gross or snarky or bitchy or boastful or any of his usual go-to stupid comments. That way I could remember all the bad things about him, why we could never be together.

Instead, he just looked at me.

If he wouldn’t help me out by reminding me what a jerk he was, then I’d have to think of all the other reasons why I should get away from him as soon as possible. I looked over his shoulder to the coffee table by the couch and saw the wedding invitation lying out.

My wedding invitation.

Oh God, I was getting married to Rupert tomorrow in front of our families and our friends, and here I was handcuffed to another man. We had to find those keys. But we were failing by ourselves.

“We need reinforcements,” I said, pivoting and dragging James back to the phone in the kitchen.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, unable to follow my whiplash of a topic change.

I snatched the hotel phone up.

“Hello,” I said to the receptionist who answered. “Will you please connect me to villa number seven, please.”

“What are you doing?” James asked, then shoved his head next to mine so he could hear the phone.

“Good morning!” Miguel answered after the third ring.

“Hi!” I said, sounding a little too chipper.

“You’re up early. Hold on,” he said, and I heard the rattle of pills in a bottle then a gulp. “I only got out of bed because the aspirin was in my suitcase across the room. I thought you wouldn’t get up until mid-afternoon.”

James covered the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand and whispered to me, “You must have gotten plastered.”

“I guess,” I whispered back. “You must have too. I wonder if we were together.”

“Ask him,” James said.

We pushed our heads back together over the phone. I heard Miguel launching into a long graphic description of how hot the cabana boys were at the hotel’s infinity pool, but they needed to change the uniforms to be a little more revealing.

“Khaki pants and white polo shirts?” Miguel asked. “What is sexy about that?”

James nudged me. I slid my hand over the mouthpiece again as he whispered, “You should have them wear sarongs.”

I laughed so loudly that Miguel heard me but probably assumed that I had been laughing at his descriptions of various married men at the swim-up bar he thought were gay, including my cousin Shawn.

“Do you think his wife knows?” Miguel asked.

“No idea,” I said quickly before he could launch into some other story. “Miguel, can you come over? I need help with…something.”

“You got it,” he mumbled, and I could tell he was brushing his teeth. “Just let me clean up and shower off the party stink from last night. I need a little coffee and maybe some breakfast, so it’ll take me maybe an hour to get over to the bridal suite.”

James and I exchanged another look.

“Uh…Miguel, I’m actually in Villa 11.”

“Is that where Rupert is staying?”

“No.”

Pause.

“His parents?”

That was followed by an even longer, more awkward pause while I tried to figure out what to do.

James pulled the phone toward his mouth. “Hey, Miguel. It’s James. I’m staying in Villa 11. Do you mind—”

Before James could finish the sentence, Miguel yelled, “I will be there in ninety seconds,” then slammed down the phone.

“Well, that went well,” James said, putting the phone back on the hook.

“I was planning on easing him into the idea,” I complained.

“How do you ease into this?” James asked, waving his one free hand around to point at the handcuffs and his crooked shirt that I had pinned up.

“I was thinking maybe you could hide behind the couch while I have my arm draped over the back and then I’d slowly explain that we’re handcuffed together and you reveal yourself.”

James stared at me. “Like a stripper popping out of a cake?”

“No.”

“Right. More like the bad guy in a mystery popping out to murder someone?”

“No!”

A knock sounded on the door and I marched over there, pulling James along with me.

“At least I don’t have to hide behind the door,” James said as I opened it, shoving close to James so our bound hands were out of sight.

Miguel stood before us, looking happier than I had ever seen him. He loved gossip and scandal and me, and if he could combine all three of those, then this must have been like Christmas for him. His beautiful brown eyes were wide open, and when he grinned, I noticed that he still had toothpaste on his lips.

“Hi there,” he said, eyes darting between James and me, trying to process what was happening. “What’s up?”

“It isn’t what it looks like,” I said just as James took a giant step away from me to try to reveal the handcuffs, but I took a giant one with him to keep them hidden.

“She’s right,” James said. I looked at him with gratitude, thinking maybe he wasn’t a complete and total asshole.

That is, until he added, “It’s worse.”

James poked me in the side until I flinched away, and he whipped our cuffed hands in the air.

“I know this looks bad…” I said but then ran out of words.

“So bad it’s good!” Miguel shouted, closing the front door and leaning his back against it.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re here,” I said, putting my free hand on his shoulder.

His face grew comically suspicious. “Hold up. Did you call me here for a pre-wedding three-way? I am completely into this,” he said, dramatically sweeping his hands in James’s direction before pointing an index finger toward me. “But these parts don’t interest me.”

“You’re safe,” I said. “You told me you’d rather touch a tarantula than a boob and I believe you.”

Miguel cocked his head at James and raised a hopeful eyebrow.

James shook his head. “Sorry, I really like boobs.”

“Disappointing but not unexpected,” Miguel said, turning back to me. “I can’t tell you what an exciting development this is. I am so happy for you that you bagged yourself the Australian Bachelor of the Year.”

I snorted. “I think you’re exaggerating a little bit.”

“No, literally. He was voted Australian Bachelor of the Year,” Miguel said. James’s smug look confirmed it.

“Okay, well, James, I can’t imagine who voted for you but congratulations. I think we might be losing focus here, though,” I said, trying to steer the conversation toward a more useful direction.

But Miguel was having none of it. “You make a super-hot couple. Really first-rate. But the absolutely best part of this entire thing is that you are kicking Rupert to the curb!”

“Wait, what?” I asked. James swallowed a bark of laughter.

“Rupert is the absolute WORST! I have always hated his guts and thought he was completely wrong for you, Shell. I just couldn’t tell you because he was your fiancé.”

I knew he wasn’t Rupert’s best friend, but damn. After a full minute of Miguel running through all the ways he couldn’t stand him, even James felt uncomfortable.

When Miguel said, “It’s not a stick up his ass, I think it’s an entire branch,” James started pretend-coughing into his hand while saying, “Leave it, mate.”

“I must say that even I am scandalized by the idea that you are basically leaving Rupert at the altar for this hot little number,” Miguel said.

James smirked at me and I knew I needed to shut this shit down.

“Miguel…”

“I mean, I can’t even imagine what you and James have been up to when you’re alone in the bedroom if you are walking around in broad daylight handcuffed,” he continued, his voice getting higher and faster with the scandal of the entire affair.

“Miguel,” I said a little louder and firmer.

It didn’t work.

“How are you going to break up with Rupert? Send him a note? Wait, let me do it!” Miguel offered, literally hopping up and down with the joy of it.

“I don’t know how to stop him,” I told James as Miguel walked around the room role-playing how he would break up with Rupert for me.

“Let him go. I’m enjoying the one-man show,” James said, trying to sit down on the couch, but I jerked him back up with our bound hands.

“Seriously, I need him to shut up.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” James responded.

Miguel turned back to me. “I really should have known this was coming when James showed up looking for you last night.”

James and I both froze. Miguel had returned to the speech he was planning to give Rupert. “And I’ll tell you another thing…”

“Okay, now it’s time to shut him up,” James finally agreed as Miguel kept rambling, pacing the floor and waving his hand in the air for emphasis.

“Miguel,” I said.

It didn’t work.

“Miguel!”

Still not working.

I slapped him.

That worked.

As he stood there rubbing his cheek, I tried to explain. “Miguel, you have got to sit down and tell us what happened last night. James and I have no memory of it, we don’t know why we are handcuffed together or where the keys are. We’re hoping you can fill in the gaps.”

He looked to James, the only person in the room who had not assaulted him.

“It’s true. And we’re not a couple. We didn’t even hook up last night,” James said, and the two of them had a little male-bonding moment over having a rough night where you don’t even get laid.

“Most importantly, I am still going to marry Rupert tomorrow,” I insisted, which caused Miguel to collapse onto a chair. “You need to tell us exactly what happened last night so we can find the keys and figure out if anyone else has seen us like this.”

“You really don’t remember anything?” he asked.

James stepped in. “We woke up in Shell’s bed, naked, wet and handcuffed.”

Miguel raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but in a bad way,” James explained, and Miguel’s brows sank back down.

I let out a groan of disgust and stepped over to the couch, pulling James behind me. “Tell us everything that happened last night, Miguel. And start at the beginning.”

With a conspiratorial smile, he perched on the arm of a plush leather chair next to the couch. “It all started at the island nightclub for your hen’s night.”

“Nightclub? I thought we were doing a spa day.”

His smile grew wider. “As if we would allow that! I mean, maybe if you were pregnant or old or something.” Then he frowned. “Please tell me you’re not pregnant.”

I shook my head.

“Phew. Anyway, we just told you that we were doing a spa day when of course we were planning on having a blowout. It was actually all your crazy godmother’s idea. Do you remember when she called right after we landed and told you she still hadn’t arrived? She was actually already at the nightclub lining up the entertainment.”

“God, I love your Aunt Tillie,” James said.

“I know!” Miguel agreed, sliding off the arm of the chair and into the seat cushion. “It’s amazing you didn’t figure it out, Shell. It was my job on the plane to kick Claire every time she almost spilled the beans. Her ankles are covered in bruises right now.”

While James and Miguel laughed, I pulled my phone out of my pocket as it started to vibrate. It was Talia calling. If she found out about this, she might feel like she had to tell Logan, who would big-brother lecture, me then rat me out. I pushed the “Ignore” button and sent her to voicemail.

“Quit laughing and focus, guys. Tell me about the part with the handcuffs, Miguel. We need the keys.”

“I don’t know anything about them. Honestly. But if I were you, I’d look for them at the nightclub.”

“I don’t mind but Shell said we can’t go out in public like this,” James said, lifting up our cuffed hands and waving them around.

“Oh, of course. Well, I can go there if you want while you guys hide out.”

A series of beeping noises came out of Miguel’s shorts just as my phone started to buzz in my hand.

“It’s a group text from Talia,” I said as I looked at the screen. “Oh no! And now Claire and Vina are responding.”

 

Talia: Wake up, Shell!!! Vina, Claire and I are heading 2 breakfast and we’re coming 2 your villa 2 pick you up! Miguel meet us there!”

 

Claire: Hells yes. I hope u r still wearing that wig Shell.

 

Vina: Anyone else hungover as f-ck???

 

James leaned over me as I read the texts out loud with increasing panic.

“It’s only about a three-minute walk from the main restaurant to the bridal villa. And if they don’t find me there, they’ll probably go ask Rupert where I am and then he’ll come looking for me.”

“And I’ll be at the nightclub,” Miguel added.

Think quick, Shell. “Okay. New plan. You go stall the girls and James and I will go to the nightclub and try not to get caught.”

Miguel gave me a salute.

The three of us got up and moved toward the door.

“You know this is a terrible plan,” James told me as we peeped out, making sure the coast was clear.

“Yes, but it’s the only one we’ve got.”