“Hm, what nickname do you prefer, or should I just keep calling you my sexy biker baddie?”
“Definitely not that.”
I close my eyes for half a second, and for the first time in a long time, I feel something in my chest loosen, because… I think he might actually be right. He doesn’t know how right, but he’s right.
I didn’t promise LukeI’d never move on; I just didn’t believe I ever could.
And here’s this ridiculous, loud, stupidly attractive, affectionate man who has made me laugh more in forty-eight hours than I have in years, and he’s standing in a stupid Vegas chapel asking me to choose something good, something fun.
Something like him.
Sure, he thought he was only attracted to women until very recently, like, a few hours ago, but he’s been flirting with me and touching me all weekend, and he was so quick to offer to touch my dick.
Blake didn’t know he was bi until Liam. Is that why Chad keeps saying that I’m his Liam? Oh my god.Do I understand Chad?
I’m probably going to regret this in the morning, but right now, I’m telling myself that maybe there’s a reason Chad and I ended up here tonight, and… well, I’ve really sucked at saying no to Chad this weekend.
“Fuck it,” I hear myself say.
His jaw drops open, and for the first time all weekend, he’s silent, at least for a second while he processes because then he’s screaming, “Wait! Do you mean ‘fuck it’ as in let’s get married?! John, are we getting married? Are you saying yes? Holy shit, oh my god! Wait, wait, wait.”
Chad laughs, quickly dropping down to one knee, wobbling for a second before he confidently looks up at me with the biggest smile as if this really is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “John, will you marry me in this Vegas chapel and make all my dreams come true? I’ll be the happiest man in the world if you say yes!”
I sigh, resigned that I’m going to do this because I can’t help it, I’m smiling too. And Chad is right: this is fun and spontaneous, and those are two things I haven’t focused on in a long time and I’ve missed them. So, I nod. “Okay.”
“Yes! He said yes!” Chad shouts into the empty chapel. But a moment later, the man from the front desk appears like he was eavesdropping on this entire conversation just waiting to hear the words.
“Oh!” he says brightly, clasping his hands together. “Well! Congratulations! That was fast.”
I snort a laugh “Yeah. Looks like we’re doing this.”
“We are!” Chad says, still on his knees, hugging my legs now and it’s taking a lot of effort for me to not topple over. “He said yes, and I’m going to be so good at marriage! You just wait.”
“Stand up, Princess,” I mutter to him, and he grins, hurrying to do as I say.
“I love when you call me that. I think it was supposed to be an insult when you first used it, but I don’t care. It sounds like you think I’m special and important and I love it now, hubby. Oh! That can be my nickname for you!”
The chapel guy is also excited, clapping before he says, “Fantastic! If I can just have both of your ID’s and a credit card, then I’ll go get Elvis and we can perform the wedding.”
It all happens so quickly; we give him the necessary identification and Chad eagerly insists on paying. As the man turns to walk away, he yells, “Elvis! We’ve got another one!”
Another one? How many drunken catastrophes do they perform in a night?
Chad wraps his arms around my neck once more before I can get lost thinking about that too hard. “John,we’re going to have the best wedding ever! Should we call our friends? Should we write vows? Do people write vows in Vegas? I feel like I have so many things to say!”
“Chad,” I interrupt his ramble. “You don’t have to write anything or tell anyone.” I want to add that this isn’t that kind of wedding, and tomorrow our friends will probably laugh about this, but I don’t. What did Chad say earlier? That sounds like a future John problem.
Tonight, I’m going to focus on having fun.
“I just have so much love to give, John! So much, and I can’t wait to give it to you.”
Give me his love? Why does that sound so funny? Is he talking about sex? Or maybe that’s a song? “Hey, Chad, you do realize you’re about to marry me, right? As in, a man? Didn’t you say you were straight earlier?”
“I know! And obviously I’m not straight, I just didn’t realize it until I was staring at your dick. I can’t wait. I told you, you’re my Liam… but better. Just don’t tell Blake; he’s obsessed with Liam.”
Before I can reply, the door opens again and a man dressed as Elvis in a white jumpsuit with rhinestones and giant sunglasses, and what’s clearly a wig, steps into the chapel.
“Well, well,” Elvis says, voice deep and theatrical. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a weddin’.”
