*Disclaimer: All rights belong to Stephanie Myers. I'm only borrowing them for entertainment.*

Jackhammers.

My head was pounding jackhammers. Go to Vegas, they said. It'll be fun, they said. Yes, because waking up with a hangover the size of Texas is fun. The breakfast I'm about to eat that's going to come up thirty minutes later is going to be loads of fun. The fact that the second I open my eyes, I'm going to want to die that's going to be fun.

Vegas for your twenty-first birthday is not fun, contrary to popular belief. Don't let them lie to you. I couldn't remember a damn thing about last night other than the fact that Rosalie and I had about six shots of Tequila, after that everything gets sort of fuzzy.

"Rose, can you get the curtain?" I groaned grabbing the nearest pillow and tossing it over my head. I'd given up on the thought of going back to sleep as soon as I woke up. I knew that with this headache I wasn't ever going to get back to the peaceful, dreamless state I was in. Besides, we had to get on the road by six pm, and God only knows what time it actually is. "Rose?" I called out slightly louder when the room fell silent.

I gave a groan realizing I was either alone in the room, or Rose was still passed out. When Rose gets drunk she's dead to the world until she's good and ready to get up. That is, unless you want one bitchy Rosalie for the rest of the day, and I mean, she's already a bitch. You really don't want a hungover, pissed off because you woke her up for no good fucking reason, Rosalie. It's just not a good idea. Don't do it. I threw the pillow off my head with a sigh and slowly opening my eyes.

"This isn't our room," I noticed immediately. Sure, all Vegas hotels look similar, but this, was not our hotel. This hotel was much nicer than ours was, and much bigger. There was a couch, a flat screen TV, what looked like a bar, and a fridge. It looked like someone's apartment, or maybe those really expensive hotel rooms. What are they called again? Villas? "Where the hell am I?" I questioned to myself looking around the room spotting a man on the bed.

My eyes grew wide, and my heart rate quickened. Strange Vegas hotel room, with a complete stranger of the opposite sex usually means one thing: One nightstand. I didn't have a one nightstand. It's impossible. No, I did not fuck some random in Vegas. That's not me. That's Rosalie, or Jessica not me. I wouldn't fuck someone in Vegas.

I did not loose my virginity in fucking Las Vegas.

"Ugh," the man in the bed groaned rolling over.

Well… if I did not a bad looking man at least. I noted to myself looking over him. I might not have been able to get a clear look at him, but I could tell from his lean body that he was not a bad looking man. The man moved again, this time rubbing his eyes, and lazily opening them.

I froze. What is the protocol in a situation like this? Do I run for the doors? Do I leave a note? Do I leave my phone number? Do I stick around until he sees me? What the hell am I supposed to do? No one prepared me for this.

"Emmett, get the fucking curtain. I'm so fucking trashed it's not even funny," the man yelled to the air. I stood there, unable to move. His voice sounded so smooth, perfect, and rugged. I didn't even have to get a good look at the man to tell that he was oozing with sexiness. "Emmett, seriously!" The man threw the blankets from his face and sat straight up. "Totally not Emmett," he breathed out looking me up and down licking his lips.

"Looks like you remember about as much from last night as I do." A nervous chuckle escaped my lips. "Guess introductions are where we should start?" It was meant to sound like a statement, but instead came out as more of a question. The man in the bed let a cocky smirk grace his face as he stuck out his hand.

"The names Edward. You are?" I couldn't help but laugh at the situation I found myself in.

"Bella," I stuck my hand out taking his hand.

"Well Bella, it's really a shame I can't seem to remember last night." I ran my fingers through my hair, like I usually did when I was nervous.

"Ouch," I complained ripping my fingers out of my hair. "What got caught?" I put my hand out in front of my face examining my fingers. I wasn't sure how I didn't notice it right when I woke up. There was a huge diamond ring resting on my left hand. A diamond ring on my engagement finger.

"Is that?" All the color drained from Edward's face in seconds.

"I'm not sure," I breathed out trying to figure out what other explanation there was. Edward lifted his left hand seeing a gold band on his engagement finger. "No, that's not possible." I said definitively. Edward seemed to jump out of the bed going straight to the desk that was by the door.

"Isabella Cullen." He tossed the marriage certificate in my direction. "It's completely possible, this is Vegas. Fuck!" He ran his long fingers through his hair and walked into the living room as if he were looking for something. "Shit, where the hell is Emmett?" He cursed kicking a suitcase that was on the floor. "You had a blonde bitchy friend?" I nodded my head knowing he was talking about Rosalie.

"Knowing Rose, she's with him." I said staring straight ahead. "What are we going to do? Annulment? Divorce? A divorce before I'm even twenty-two. My mom's going to love that one. Getting hitched to a stranger in Vegas. I thought you were suppose to get drunk out of your mind for your twenty-first birthday, not hitched!" I complained my breathing starting to hitch. "How could Rosalie let me get married?" Edward's eyes grew wide as he walked over to me placing his hands on both sides of my shoulders.

"Annulment would be the smartest choice. I think we both need to just calm down, find Emmett & Rosalie, and talk this whole thing out. I mean if we all remember fragments of the night then maybe we can piece it together and see what lead here, right?" I shook my head.

"I'll call Rose, she'll answer me." I grabbed my cell phone from the nightstand. "If she doesn't I'll shove a foot up her ass," I grumbled under my breath as the third ring happened.

"I've been trying to call you for the past three hours. Where the fuck are you? I can't remember anything from last night! We fucked up!" Rosalie was hyperventilating in the phone. "I woke up this morning. We got married last night. There are pictures on the fucking desk in this place!" Well, at least I'm not the only idiot in the room.

"I know, where are you?" I questioned sitting down at the desk chair. "Is he awake?" Rosalie gave a sight telling me all I needed to know.

"He's saying he won't agree to an annulment. That makes everything one hundred times harder. It's not like having a boyfriend, Bella. I can't just be like well this was fun, but I think we've run our course. We're married and it's all legally binding." Rosalie was in the middle of a freak out.

She's had her wedding planned since we were ten. She knows the colors, the china patterns, bridesmaid dresses, and she even knows what kind of suit her fiancée will wear. She's planned out every single little detail for her dream wedding, and Vegas was not part of the deal. In fact, she was supposed to stay far away from Vegas until she said the words 'I do'. Now she can't even remember saying the words.

So, maybe freak out wasn't the appropriate term. Melt down might be more accurate.

"Rosalie, calm down. We'll talk it out, and go through this together. Your in his hotel room?" I questioned not knowing where that was. I looked to Edward who only nodded his head letting me know he knew where Emmett was staying. "We'll be there soon, and we'll talk this all out." I informed her hanging up. Edward was lacing up his shoes, oddly calm about the entire situation at hand.

"Your shoes are in the bathroom. Black heels," he informed me motioning to the room beside the bed. "I saw them when I used the bathroom," he explained shrugging his shoulders. "I don't wear pumps, so their either yours, or we've got one hell of a story to piece together." A chuckle escaped my lips.

I was never the girl to plan out her wedding. In fact, I wasn't even sure I ever did want to get married. Renee and Charlie married when they were eighteen, and they only lasted fourteen months before they called it quits. Almost every marriage I knew of ended with a divorce. Now days I just don't see the point in marring, because about 90% of them end badly. So, maybe I wasn't as upset as Rosalie about the marriage aspect of it. I was more upset because if he didn't agree to an annulment, I had no clue what I was going to do.

Live with a complete stranger? Where did he even live? Be married and not live with him? Get to know each other – in which case one of us would have to work extraordinarily hard for a stranger. There were only so many scenarios that I could work out without him agreeing to an annulment. It seemed like the smartest decision.

It seemed like the only decision.

"He's on the other end of the hotel," Edward explained opening the door for me. "Tell me what you think of this entire situation. Is it like you?"

"To get married in Vegas? I'd say it's out of the ordinary." A chuckle escaped his lips as we made our way down the hallway.

"Not exactly what I meant." I smirked at him.

"I know, and no I'm usually not this reckless. Normally I overthink every situation, so I really have no clue how this happened." I glanced down at the pear shaped ring that was still resting on my engagement finger. "I think you want this back," I slipped it off my finger handing it to him. He only shook his head.

"I'm being up front about something. I – like Emmett – will not agree to an annulment." He swatted my hand away from him telling me to keep the ring.

"Why not?" I'm positive my face drained of all color. Why would he want to stay married to a complete stranger? It wasn't logical.

"Our parents raised us in a certain way. We're adults, we have to deal with our mistakes. Dealing with them does not mean running away from them. In our eye that's what an annulment means, running away from our problems. I'm not saying that we're going to make this work hell or high water, I'm just saying we should give it a chance." He shrugged his shoulders. "Something made me ask you, and something made you say yes. Even if alcohol was involved." He made a good point, not good enough for me to want to stay married to him.

This was going to be interesting.

A/N: So, what do you think? Good, bad. terrible? Let me know your thoughts!

Next chapter, figure out what happened on Bella's 21st birthday and led to the marriage!