“We should be figuring out how to get this annulled.”
He pouts his lips. “Or we could not.”
A snort comes out of me, and my hands flies up to cover my face. I don’t think I’ve ever made that sounds in my entire life. Fisher must agree, because his brows raise.
“Did you snort?”
“No!”
He falls back on the bed in a fit of laughter.
“It’s not funny,” I whine. “We have bigger problems than whether I may or may not have snorted.”
“Well, you definitely did so there’s no may or may not about it.” I grab yet another pillow to throw at him and this time he’s not ready to deflect it. He tosses it off his face and rolls over to face me, resting his head in his hand. “That wasn’t nice.”
“We’remarried,” I remind him, because clearly, he’s not fully awake and understanding.
“Oh? Is that what this ring on my finger means?” He wiggles his left hand at me.
“This isn’t funny, Fisher. This is a big deal.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He climbs off the bed and grabs his pants off the floor. He pulls them on but leaves them unbuttoned. “But annulment is a big deal too. Let’s order something to eat and some coffee and chat about this.”
“Not as big of a deal as a divorce,” I mutter under my breath. I pace back and forth, the plush carpet no match against my frustration. “I can’t believe the others aren’t trying to break the door down.”
He shrugs. “They’re probably still sleeping. So, should I order room service now?”
I plop in the chair in the corner of the room and draw my legs up to my chest. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I set my chin on my knees and nod.
“Good,” he says to my agreement. “Because I’m starving. Any requests?” He picks up the menu from the side table and holds it out to me.
I wave off the offer of the menu. “French toast.”
He picks up the phone and places an order. Hanging up, he stands with his hands on his hips and with his pants, open and low, the pose seems downright obscene which I know is ironic considering all the things we did last night … or early this morning, I suppose.
“Can we wait to eat before we continue this conversation?”
With a sigh, I say, “I guess so.”
I am starving, so food is probably a good idea. I never can think clearly when I’m hungry.
“I’m going to head over to my room and shower. Can I trust you won’t panic and leave in that time?” He arches a brow as he waits for my response. Mischief dances at the edges of his lips.
Narrowing my eyes on him, I swipe up my clutch from last night and pull out my phone. Dead as a doornail. Fantastic. “I’ll be just fine without you babysitting.”
He scratches his jaw before he cocks his head to the side. “I must not have done a good enough job.”
“At what?” I ask, brows knitting.
“Fucking the attitude out of you.” He smirks, looking me up and down.
My mouth pops open and before I can retort he lets himself through the adjoining door and shuts it behind him.
“Asshole!” I yell.
His laugh is my only answer.
The shower in Fisher’s room is still running when I manage to get a 5% charge on my phone, so that means I’m texting the girls and saying a prayer that at least one of them is awake. I click onto our group chat that Whimsy, with herJurassic Parkobsession, namedThe Clever Girls.