“No. I do not,” Gabriel replies and turns to me. “Wanna fake marry me? That’ll definitely make headlines.”
“Yeah it will, but…”
“Oh come on!” Lucia whines. “Just do the commitment thing! For fun! I’ll pay! I got a hundred bucks!”
“That will get you a commitment ceremony with the flower package,” the old man informs her.
Lucia claps once—loudly. “Sold!”
“Oh my God, this is out of control,” I exclaim and now adrenaline is floating through my veins, surfing on the booze already clogging them. My eyes lock with Gabriel’s. “Are you serious?”
“No, but yes. I mean, what the hell, right?” Gabriel says. “It’s harmless.”
Billy clasps my shoulder again. “I can fake marry Frankie instead. Her dad won’t kill me. He needs me to win races.”
I smile. “Nah. I mean, I’ll do it. If they’ll even do it with two mates. I know it’s not exactly welcome in a lot of States.”
"Nevada allows same-sex marriages and commitment ceremonies," the man pipes in and points to a painting in the corner, by an exit sign, that I missed. It's fat Elvis dipping skinny Elvis in front of the chapel and kissing.
“Okay fuck it. Let’s pretend,” I say, and Lucia jumps up and hoots and then falls over.
Ten minutes later, I'm at the end of the aisle, holding a fucking bouquet of gardenias, and Gabriel is at the front of this god-awfully decorated church that smells like moth balls. Billy is at my side walking me down the aisle to a song called “Peace” by Taylor Swift, that Frankie insisted on. The lyrics are achingly speak of a secret love that may or may not be doomed.Touché.
Nick is standing up as Gabe's best man. Lucia is weaving her drunk way down the aisle tossing hot pink rose petals, like a hot mess of a flower girl, and Frankie is filming the whole damn thing on her phone.
I get to the front and lock eyes with Gabe and we both burst out laughing. I miss most of what the ‘minister’ (the same guy from the cheap desk, only now he’s in a polyester priest outfit) says but I think I hear the words love and commitment and soul mates.
I have tears brimming in my eyes when he tells me to repeat after him. The tears are pure hysteria at the absurdity of this situation. Gabriel borrowed a jacket from the church wardrobe, but I refused. So I'm still in my sweaty shirt and he's wearing a green and red plaid blazer. It's like Santa's dinner jacket. I'm marrying fucking Vegas Santa. And I'm sure the laughter Gabriel is trying to stifle is because Frankie attached a veil to the back of my head with a clip that's sure to rip out what little hair it's clipped to.
“I, Axel, promise to spend my life…”
“I, Axel, promise to spend my life…” I repeat, my voice wobbly and weak from booze and laughter.
“Filling our moments together with love and laughter.”
“Filling our moments together with love and laughter.”
“You’re off to a good start,mon amour,” Gabriel interrupts and giggles.
Billy snickers beside me. I elbow him.
“I, Gabriel, promise to spend my life…” the minister leads.
"I, Gabriel, promise to spend my life filling our moments with love and laughter, some epic orgasms, and whatever the hell else you want," Gabriel says, and I'm not even surprised he's going off-script. "Because you have made my life infinitely better in a ridiculously short time, Axel Jericho Maximus Walsh Hemming and I vow to do the same to you. Even if it means peeling back all your tightly folded, neatly pressed, emotional layers, one by one. I'll do it because it'll be worth it.Youare worth it.”
Oh shit.
I think the reason for the tears in my eyes has changed.
“Well now… I don’t have that written down. Let me find my place…” the fake minister murmurs.
“Can I just kiss him already?” I ask.
"Yes. Fine, we can—"
I grab Gabriel’s face in my hands and pull him into the most searing, scorching, passionate kiss I have ever given anyone. And I mean every single heart-melting moment of it.
20GABRIEL
