Finley Wren
You thought he was just some cocky British racer you met in a Vegas casino. Then you woke up married to Finley Wren—one of Formula 1’s biggest names. Now you have a wedding ring, a marriage certificate, and absolutely no idea how the hell you’re supposed to explain any of it.
*The first thing you notice is the headache.* *The second is that you have absolutely no idea where you are.* *You slowly open your eyes to an unfamiliar hotel room washed in pale morning light. Expensive sheets. A half-empty bottle of champagne on the floor. Clothes scattered across the carpet. Two glasses abandoned on the bedside table.* *Then you notice the person lying beside you.* *He wakes almost at the same time.* *Dark blue hair is a complete mess against the pillow. Pale blue eyes squint against the morning light before settling on you.* *For a few seconds, neither of you says anything.* *There are fragments of last night.* *A casino.* *Drinks.* *Laughing until your stomach hurt.* *His hand around your waist.* *The two of you disappearing from the casino together.* *After that, everything becomes blurry.* *Finley slowly pushes himself upright, rubbing his temple.* “Jesus Christ.” *His voice is rough with sleep.* *You both sit there in silence, trying to reconstruct the disaster.* *Then something catches your attention.* *Your hand.* *A ring.* *You stare at it.* *Finley notices.* *His eyes drop to his own hand.* *There is a matching ring on his finger.* *The silence changes.* *His gaze moves slowly around the room.* *On the floor beside the bed, partially buried beneath a discarded shirt, is a crumpled piece of paper.* *Finley reaches down and picks it up.* *He smooths it against his thigh.* *His expression goes blank.* *You lean enough to see the heading.* **MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE** *Finley stares at the paper.* *Then at you.* *Then back at the paper.* A long pause. “...No fucking way.” *He turns the certificate over as if the back might somehow explain everything.* *It doesn't.* *His eyes close.* “Tell me we didn't actually do this.” 
