Married To My Celebrity Crush

The chill in the room made my skin prickle as I groaned and reached for the duvet to cover myself. My hand, however, landed on a warm body. I jolted upright, immediately noticing my clothes scattered on the floor and realizing I was completely naked. I pulled the duvet around me and my eyes fell on a man sleeping peacefully on the bed.

"What the hell?" I whispered, shock and confusion mixing in my voice. "Shit, shit." The moment I muttered the words, my head pounded, and fragments of the previous night flooded back. I remembered following my friends-Bella, Tonia, and Mara to a nightclub for our usual ladies' night. I recalled taking shots and drinking heavily, but I had no memory of ending up in a stranger's bed.

I frantically searched the room for my cell phone, finally finding it under the bed. I unlocked it, only to be met with a barrage of messages and notifications. They all seemed to suggest that I was engaged to Smith Sinclair.

Smith Sinclair. The name was absurd. He was a top celebrity in Canada, a public figure no one had actually seen up close, except those in his inner circle. Why would I be associated with him?

Bella's name appeared on the screen, and I dialed it, my anxiety rising as I waited for her to answer.

"Emily, where are you?" Bella's voice was laced with concern. "Your mom's been calling me, and all I could tell her was that you were with me."

I rubbed my forehead, trying to soothe the throbbing pain. "How should I know? I woke up in a stranger's bed."

There was a pause, and then Bella's voice came back, hesitant. "Emily, I'm so sorry. I still can't believe it either."

"What... what are you talking about?" My voice trembled as I awaited her explanation, but before she could elaborate, someone snatched the phone from my hand. I turned to find myself face-to-face with a shirtless Smith Sinclair.

"Your call is disturbing my early morning sleep," he grumbled, tossing the phone onto the bed and heading towards the bathroom.

I stood there, frozen in disbelief. I had not only slept in Smith Sinclair's bed but was now confronting him directly. As reality set in, the possibility that something had happened between us became more apparent.

I scrambled to gather my clothes from the floor, dressing quickly and grabbing my phone. Without looking back, I hurried out the door.

Outside, I took a deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves as I navigated down a lavishly decorated spiral staircase. The gold and black decor made it look like something straight out of a real estate showcase.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs and neared the exit, a voice stopped me. "Mrs. Sinclair, where are you going so early in the morning?" A woman in a white and black uniform approached me, and I looked around, expecting to see someone else she might be referring to. But it turned out she was talking to me.

"No, my name is Emily," I corrected her sharply.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but since you're engaged to my boss, I'll have to address you as Mrs. Sinclair," she said, her tone firm but respectful.

I was tempted to ask her which engagement she was talking about, but I didn't have time. I needed to get out of there and head home before my mom started freaking out.

My phone kept vibrating with messages piling up as I made my way to the huge black gate. As I approached it, two men appeared out of nowhere and hurried to meet me.

"Mrs. Sinclair, your ride is here. Please follow us," one of them said politely.

"My ride? You've got to be kidding," I scoffed. "Is this some sort of joke?"

The man maintained a smirk. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Sinclair, if this is causing any inconvenience."

"Why is everyone acting so strange? There must be a mistake. I'm not who you think I am. I'm not married to your boss," I said, sighing in frustration.

"I understand, Mrs. Sinclair, but I'm afraid I can't let you leave alone. You're now a public figure, and those fans of your husband might not be too kind."

"Ugh, what is this?" I groaned, resting my hand on my forehead. He was right-something was off. My phone had been buzzing non-stop since I woke up, and the whole situation was making my stomach churn. Not knowing what was going on didn't help either.

With a sigh, I raised my hand, then dropped it by my side. "Alright, I need to get out of here anyway. Let's go."

The man nodded, and both of them took their positions beside me. When we reached the car, one of them moved ahead to open the door, and I slid inside, immediately pulling out my phone to check all the messages I'd been receiving.

11,089 messages in a split second. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I blinked furiously, trying to convince myself this was some kind of bizarre dream.

Smith Sinclair-my ultimate celebrity crush. Anyone who knew me would say we were like twins from different mothers. Smith was born on the same day as me; I knew this because I'd always been online, digging into his history.

"How did this happen?" I muttered, but the answer was staring right back at me from my phone screen.

A video of me dancing with a man in a club, my friends jeering nearby as they filled their cups with liquor. The way he grabbed my hips like he owned me made my stomach twist, and the fact that I was playing along only made it worse.

In the background, a guy-probably the one who filmed the video-was obnoxiously loud. "Yo yo yo," he kept shouting.

And God, the next part of the video made me wish I could just disappear on the spot, or maybe sink into the seat. But this was reality, and things like that don't happen.

The man, who I assumed was Smith Sinclair, though partially hidden under a cap, suddenly dropped to one knee in front of me, his eyes locking with mine. I was like a puppy, eagerly wagging my tail at the sight of a fresh meal.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, pulling out a tiny box with a glittering diamond ring that caught the club's lights.

"No, no, no," I muttered, staring at my phone screen, but my words were the exact opposite of what I had said in the video.

"Yes, stranger, I'll marry you," my intoxicated self slurred, and a cold chill ran down my spine. My eyes darted to my hand, and there it was-the same glittering diamond ring from the video on my index finger.

How had I not noticed it until now?

"Ma'am, are you alright?" The man in the passenger seat turned to look at me, and I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment, realizing he might have seen the video.

At that moment, it felt like the whole world had seen it.