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Chapter 8

Oh shit! Elvis, a ring, no…we couldn’t have…could we? I gulped. Please tell me I had not spent the previous night becoming a Vegas cliché like so many of my heterosexual colleagues. “Um,” I shifted on my feet. “Holly…what exactly happened last night?”

Holly appeared disappointed. “You don’t remember?”

“No,” I said with a shake of my head. I sighed as I walked over to the bed and looked down at Holly, trying to keep my eyes from staring at those immaculate breasts. “I remember bits and pieces. I know we made love,” I said with a grin. “I remember something about Elvis, too. What did we do last night? Do I even want to know?”

“You may want to sit down, sweetie.” Holly reached out and grasped my hand, pulling me down onto the edge of the bed. “We kind of went to the chapel and…” she frowned. “I’m so sorry. I thought it was what you wanted. You said yes and…”