As soon as my body starts to wake up, the migraine hits me like a freight train, making me let out a low groan. I force my eyes open, wincing at the light coming in through the sheer hotel curtains. Who puts sheer curtains in a Vegas hotel room?

I grunt and roll over slowly, jolting slightly at the sight of another figure in the bed. Fuck. I did it again.

I played a show last night here in Las Vegas, so naturally I went out for a few drinks with the crew afterwards. Duh, it’s Vegas. But I guess a few drinks turned into too many. Lately, too many drinks means I wake up the next morning with a stranger that I don’t remember even meeting.

It’s really quite becoming a problem.

While I’m already mentally debating on either attempting to persuade you to just not tell anyone or if I’m actually gonna have to get Jeff to email me an NDA document, that’s when I notice it. A ring. On my left hand. On my ring finger.

That’s weird. I don’t have any rings that I wear on my left ring finger- oh no.

I shoot up in the bed, temporarily ignoring the throbbing head pain, my gaze flying to my hand. No…no no no no. I thought drunk Vegas weddings with a stranger just happened in the movies.

Fuck.