The Rock Star's Wedding

Part 10

TEN

"Ah, Ms Lane?" a soft voice asked.

"Nngh?" Xan had lost count of her drinks hours ago, but she was fairly sure she'd drunk less than Jay, who now sat with the band beside the darkened stage, sharing laughter, stories and enough alcohol to drown a whale.

She wasn't about to join them, though, and she was quite happy drinking alone, as long as Jerome didn't join her. Luckily, he'd vanished.

"Ms Lane, when you're ready, see Hotel Reception about your room key. All tonight's guests are staying in the deluxe apartments by the pool, as it's quieter than the rooms overlooking..." The waitress waved at the beer garden on the other side of the temporary picket fence, where the public staircase party had turned into a proper drunken revel.

Xan nodded and thanked the girl, without taking her eyes off the revellers. The last time she watched Staircase to the Moon from this lawn, she'd been among the public patrons, as the designated driver for a bunch of backpackers who'd been staying at the place she managed back then. It felt strange to be on the other side of the fence, as one of the upper-class VIPs. She half expected someone to tap her on the shoulder and tell her she didn't belong, but of course no one did. This was Australia; moreover, this was Broome. The laid-back lifestyle here was nothing like the prim and proper sort of thing that went on back in the UK. If the Queen herself held a garden party in Broome, it would either be on this very lawn, or at Romance Island Resort, and she's get an invitation just as easily as she'd scored one to this event.

The waitress carried her full tray of drinks over to the band. They raised their glasses in one raucous, clinking toast to cheers of "Yeah!" and "Right on!" before draining the drinks dry. As if this was their final cue, they rose as one to ascend the stage, not for an encore, but to pack away their gear.

Jay, never one to clear up after himself, or do a day's work at all, sauntered over to Xan. "Top blokes," he slurred, grinning. He nodded at the empty bottles on the table beside Xan. "I hope you're not planning on driving after those. The police in town get real narky about drink driving."

Xan rose and half a dozen...whatever-they-weres swam woozily up to her head. Shouldn't have drunk so much. "No. We're staying the night here. We'll head back in the morning. I'll be fine by then."

Jay snorted. "If you drank all those, you'll have a hangover by then."

Xan shrugged. "So will you." She bent her surprisingly unsteady steps toward Reception.

Jay held the door for her, which was probably a good thing, as her feet seemed to want to trip over themselves right now. Shouldn't have had that cider. Or the other ones. Maybe the cocktail had been a mistake, too. Too sweet. She was pretty sure she hadn't finished that one, at least.

"Your key, Ms Lane," the receptionist said, though Xan couldn't remember her name. Everyone knew her, that's all. It was a small town thing.

"What about him?" Xan demanded, jerking her head at Jay, then wishing she hadn't. Woozy as buggery. "He needs a key, too. He's not sharing mine." She closed her fist around it.

The receptionist blinked, then produced another key, which she handed to Jay. "For you, Mr Felix."

With a wink and a whistle, Jay led the way back outside, helping Xan out the doors and up the stairs. For once, Xan didn't protest about him touching her. Mostly because if he let go, she was certain her knees would buckle and she'd hit the floor. This was why she didn't drink. Now, why wouldn't the b****y key go into the lock? And which lock was it, when there were three of them?

"Here, lemme help," Jay said, taking the key. The lock behaved for him, clicking after barely a moment, letting him swing the door wide open. "C'mon, Xan, let's get you to bed."

She felt her body tilt dizzily, and opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again when she felt something soft under her back. Bed. Just what she needed right now, to sleep off that hellish cider.

"Now I get why you invited me. You needed someone to carry you to your room. You don't drink much, do you?"

Xan peered blearily at Jay. What was he doing in her bedroom? "Bugger off," she mumbled. "I'm not sleeping with you."

"You don't have to. There's another bed," Jay said.

No. She was not sharing a bed or a room with Jay Felix. "Out. Getcherownroom."

"My key's to the same room number as yours. Looks like we're sharing. At least your ex won't be likely to try and sneak in with me in here." Springs creaked as Jay threw himself on the other bed. His bed.

Bloody hell. Xan peered blearily at him. If she had to share a room, better Jay than Jerome. "I'm not sleeping with you," she repeated.

"Yeah, yeah. So you keep saying. Bet you're out before I am, though. I hope you don't snore."

Xan struggled to get under the sheets so she could pull one over her head. "You better not, either."

She vaguely heard Jay say something in response, but she wasn't listening any more. The cider pulled her under into welcome sleep. It'd serve him right if she snored, too.