Grasping Air (Flipped Book 2)
Page 13
I kiss him, willing him to let his anxiousness subside.
“Okay, fine. Now you get why I’m so jealous of you all the time though. Isn’t it maddening that all of these women want me?”
Jared shoots me a goofy smile and I roll my eyes. He thinks that just because girls are crying over him on the Internet, I’m going to cut a bitch.
Well … I actually probably would.
“I’ll cut a bitch. Is that what you want to hear? Stop puffing out your chest, slow the ego roll down.”
He laughs and then begins to massage my hip with a big, callused hand. “So what do you want to do on our day off?”
I pretend to think for a moment. “Um, this.”
Jared chuckles. “We’ve been stuck in arenas and hotel rooms for months. Let’s do something fun.”
“Okay, like what?”
“I have an idea. Throw on some jeans and a T-shirt and be ready in fifteen.” He jumps up, suddenly all excited.
“Why would I wear jeans in Arizona? It’s so damn hot.”
Forty-five minutes later we pull onto a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, Arizona.
“Uh, you’re not bringing me to some weird religious thing, right? Or a deserted, haunted hospital or something?”
Jared looks at me like I’m crazy. “Those are really the two things you think I’d take you to do on your day off? You’re insane. And also apparently have zero faith in me.”
I hit his leg and then run my hand across his muscular, jean-clad thigh. “I was just checking. What are we doing anyway?”
“For once, I’m going to be the free spirit keeping you guessing. It isn’t that much fun, is it?” His face is all amused payback.
Jared is relishing in this, and it’s actually fun to see. It’s just us, and he’s let his guard all the way down.
“Actually, I’m quite enjoying this.” I reach for his hand and lace my fingers through it.
The warm Arizona air wisps through the window and tosses my hair. I realize that in this moment, sitting in a rented car with my boyfriend on some dirt road in the middle of America … that I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.
Jared steers the car around a curve and I see a sign coming up on the right. National Association of … Arizona Gun Members?
“Where the fuck are we?” My whole body goes tense.
“Surprise! I’m taking you to the range!” Jared looks delighted, and doesn’t sense the complete one-eighty of my mood.
“A shooting range?” I’m still in disbelief and my stomach is more sour than rotten milk.
“Yes! My family grew up on ranges, and I figure you might have not ever been, so why not have some fun? It’s a nice day away, do some target practice. Hey, I can even stand behind you and help you pull the trigger.”
He waggles his eyebrows at me, still none the wiser to my horrified expression with his eyes on the road.
“Turn the car around.”
He automatically starts braking. “Wait, huh?”
“Turn the car around!”
“Peyton, what the hell is wrong?!” Jared has fully stopped the car now, almost directly in front of the shooting range sign.
I try to compose myself before turning to him and speaking. “I’m not going to a shooting range.”
Jared looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “And why not?”
“Because I hate guns. I believe that no one in this country should have the right to own them. I think they’re violent and awful and I will never, ever hold one in my hands. Especially not to ‘have fun’ with. Shooting things doesn’t constitute fun for me.”
I’m panting with aggression and my heart drums against my ribcage as I stare into his coffee-colored eyes. Jared’s expression is one of anger and bewilderment.
“So because my family grew up around guns, you think we’re animals? That we’re all horrible people? And that way of thinking is juvenile; we have a second amendment right to bear arms and protect ourselves. What if a burglar broke into the house and was threatening to hurt you? Bet you’d be happy I had a gun then! I was trying to do something nice for you. Fuck!”
Funny how things can go from perfectly happy one moment to a screaming match the next.
“I never said you were a bad person! Don’t give me your second amendment bullshit. That’s the same type of bullshit that allows psychos to buy guns and kill thirty children in an elementary school! Or slaughter perfectly innocent people enjoying a night out at a gay club! Guns of any kind, even in the hands of a rational person, are not good!”
We’re both heavy breathing now, leaned in toward each other shouting over the center console of the rental car.
Then, Jared just breaks down laughing. “Hell, are we ever going to agree on anything?”
Laughter bubbles up inside of me too. “Probably not.”
“Who decided that us getting together would be a good idea? We have nothing in common!” He cups my face in his cheeks.
“I think we did. And you know what … who cares? It’s what will makes us more … well-rounded. Maybe we’ll learn something. Bickering is what we do.”
Jared pulls me closer until his breath fans over my lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He kisses me, gentle but quick. “Now what do we do?”
Tapping my finger against his cheek, I think. “Well, we could always go get some food.”
“Burgers and milkshakes?”
I smile as I buckle myself back up, facing forward. “Now that is something we can always agree on.”
28
Jared
Although I’ve traveled to many places by way of gymnastics, I’ve never actually been to Sin City.
Las Vegas. What happens there usually stays there, and therefore, I’ve never really had the desire to visit. Vegas holds no allure for me; I only drink in moderation, I quit the poker table after two hands, I don’t like nightclubs, and gourmet dinners to me equal steaks on the grill under the open sky.
I find this city cheesy and dirty, but for some reason when I enter it holding Peyton’s hand as we walk down the strip, I don’t hate it as much.
“Oh my gosh look at the fountains! And the dancers, wow I need a headpiece like that! Oh my God, can we get a margarita in one of those tall souvenir cups? I think it’s so cool you can drink on the streets here!”
She’s like a kid in a candy store, her flip-flops clacking against the sidewalk as her flowery sundress floated as we walked. It clung in all of the right places, and all I wanted to do was get her up to the hotel room.
“You have to play a couple of rounds of roulette with me. Promise?”
My little gambler, I could see dollar signs in her eyes at the thought of getting on the tables. It was cute, how excited she was, and I was kind of catching her bug even though I’d hated the thought of coming here.
We’re walking down the street, looking at all of the sights and interesting people, when the next building catches my eye. A chapel, all gaudy with its white lace and pink hearts. Get Married, only $100!, read a sign out front. My grip on Peyton’s hand tightens, an involuntary motion, one triggered by thinking about us in that chapel.
Marrying Peyton. Waiting at the alter for the only girl who I’ve ever loved, the only woman who has occupied my mind for years on end.
And suddenly, it seems like the most logical idea in the world.
“Let’s get married.”
The words pop out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Peyton giggles and bumps her shoulder against mine. “Yeah, right. Hilarious, babe.”
I stop, causing her to jerk back when our hands are still connected. “I’m serious.”
People pass us as we stand, blocking the flow of traffic in the middle of the sidewalk. She rolls her eyes and hits my pec. “You’re nuts.”
I shake my head, more sure about this than anything in the world. “I’m not. I’m serious. Marry me.”
Those hazel eyes widen, a
nd her mouth drops open slightly. “You’re really serious. This isn’t a joke. Huh? You’re the least spontaneous person I know … and this is just … crazy. We can’t!”
I take her in my arms, pulling her up onto her toes. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me. Life is short, and we’ve wasted so much time already. I love you. I’m in love with you. That’s never changing. Marry me. Let’s do it.”
She looks like she’s thinking, tears shining in her eyes. We might as well be in our own bubble, the shine and glitz of Vegas all but faded.
“Okay … okay, let’s do it. I love you. I can’t believe this.” She grabs her own face, shaking it back and forth.
“I love you!” I kiss her, tasting every emotion we both feel. “We’re getting married!”
My shout attracts cheers and yells of congratulations as I pick Peyton up and spin her in a circle.
“Okay so, how do we do this?” She asks as she wipes a happy tear from her cheek.
“We go into this chapel right now and say vows to each other.” It seems like the most logical thing in the world to me right now.
“No white dress? No friends? We don’t even have rings, Jared!” We walk over to the entrance of the wedding chapel.
“I’ve waited this long to be with you, to love you. I don’t need any of that. I don’t want to wait to plan any of that. I don’t need my family here, I’ve never been the big shindig type of guy anyway. We’ll buy rings in there and I’ll get you a big fat diamond later. You don’t even like to wear white, so why would you now? All I need is you and the love between us. I’m not building a marriage on dresses or flowers or guest lists. I’m building one with you.”
Now she’s really crying, slipping her arm through my elbow and pulling me towards the chapel. “Then let’s go get married, fiancé. I never wanted a long engagement anyway.”
We enter the building and it’s not as cheap and tawdry as I expect. There are no Elvis impersonators or showgirl wedding dresses. It’s just a small building with a front desk, a jewelry case, and an arch leading into a small but clean chapel. The carpet is a light pink, the walls a fresh white with pictures of wedding bells hung everywhere. There is no one in the joint, surprisingly, except for a plump older man with a shock of white hair.
“Hello there, young lovebirds. My name is Stanley, my wife Ruth is in the back. I can take a guess as to why you’re here, but I always like to ask: why have you walked into our fine establishment of love today?”
Stanley seems nice, and refreshingly … honest in this town of cheats and scoundrels. I can already tell I like him.
“I’d like to marry this woman.” I raise our joined fists.
“How romantic. Have we been drinking today? Are you of sound mind? Do you love each other?”
His questions make me like him even more as Peyton nods her head next to me.
“No drinking, just have waited a long time to make her mine, and I’m not willing to wait any longer. We love each other, don’t want the fuss of a wedding, and we’d like to get married. Right now.”
Stanley studies both of us, and I can sense Peyton standing a little taller like she’s trying to pass a test.
“All right, then we’d be happy to marry two young people in love such as yourselves. Now, do you have rings?” The twinkle in his eye tells me he likes us too.
“Rings. We’re picking out rings,” Peyton excitedly whispers in my ear as we make our way to the case. We may be in a chapel on the Vegas strip, but this feels more special to me than any ballroom or candlelit vineyard.
The jewelry case has rows of basic gold and silver rings, some with a little more design than others. Peyton holds my hand as I choose a thicker, silver band, trying it on and thinking to myself, perfect, when it fits just right.
“I promise I’ll buy you a diamond as soon as I get home. Or … we get home. Huh. Guess we will have to figure that out now.” I look at my soon-to-be wife in amazement.
“A big, fat diamond.” She winks at me. “Yeah, guess I will need to figure out if I’m moving to the south. Peyton Adams, the Southern Belle … we’ll see how it fits after I try it on.”
The smile on my face feels like it’s a thousand watts and burning bright. “You mean Peyton Hargrove.”
“Who said I’m taking your name?” She’s sarcastic as she slips on a simple silver ring with tiny studded diamonds around the band. Well, I doubt they’re real diamonds but it looks nice on her finger.
“You better be taking my name. You know I have ways of convincing you,” I whisper darkly in her ear when Stanley turns around to file some legal documents we will need.
Peyton grins and decides on that ring, and then all that there is left to do is actually say vows. Stanley gestures towards the chapel, and Ruth comes out to join us.
“Sweetheart, here are some fresh flowers, on the house. Every bride should have a bouquet.” Ruth hands Peyton a bunch of white roses tied together with a red bow.
She looks beautiful and fresh in her little floral sundress … maybe it’s not the traditional white, but my girl has never been one to stick to the rules. Her black hair is long and wavy, one of the features that’s always made her look exotic and sexy. Her face is nearly free of makeup, and I love her like this. I can’t imagine a more perfect way to marry her.
“Jared, if you could join me here up front.” Stanley stands at the tiny alter, and I walk down the aisle after squeezing Peyton’s hand.
Ruth starts a song over the speaker system, a nice guitar melody as I wait at the end of the aisle for my bride. Butterflies, excited and eager, flap around in my stomach. Even though this is sudden, even though we just picked out our dime-store rings together … it feels like this has been coming for years and I can’t wait for it to finally be here. Wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans, the song changes into Pachelbel’s Canon in D.
I face the front, and there she is. My sassy, beautiful, smart, amazing woman. Just this morning, we woke up thinking it would be another day in another city. But now … it’s our wedding day. And it couldn’t be anything more than fate’s absolute plan. Today, December 14, will be a day we celebrate for years to come.
Peyton’s quietly crying when she finally makes it all the way down the aisle, and I reach out to rub the tears off her cheek with my thumb.
“We’re here today to join together you young, committed soul mates in marriage. Marriage is the bonding of two lives into one; a partnership where each brings their own values and traditions and melds them to the other. In this, find love, compassion and eternal trust in one another.” Stanley begins the ceremony and already I have chills from how surreal this feels.
“Would you like to say your own vows to each other?” he asks as we join hands. I don’t want to spend another minute not touching her.
We haven’t prepared anything, so I look at Peyton for direction.
“Sure, I think that would be special,” she speaks through her tears, her voice small and emotional.
I nod, agreeing. Stanley points to me, and I take a deep breath. Thinking deeply, I need to convey everything I love about Peyton and everything I will give to her forever.
“I’ve loved you … probably since the day I laid eyes on you. You are the complete opposite of me in so many ways, and yet … I think that’s why we work. We challenge each other, and we don’t allow the other to rest on their laurels. Where you color outside the lines, I bring you back in. Where I stick to the script, you drag me off of it. You’re the most incredible human being, and I’m so lucky that you picked me. When I’m with you, even if we bicker constantly, it’s still the best part of my day. I will protect you forever, I will work hard to compromise, I will put your needs before mine. You have been the only woman for me since I can remember, and you’ll be the only woman for me ever. I am so in love with you, Peyton … and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
By the time I finish, my throat is tight with emotion and I’m squeezing Peyton’s hands so h
ard that I fear I’m hurting her, but I can’t let up. Tears stream down her face, and I kick myself for going first because I wouldn’t be able to talk now if I were her.
But somehow, she musters the voice to do it.
“For such a long time, I was scared of love. Despised the idea, and would put myself in any situation not to fall so that I could keep my heart safe. And then I met you.”
Peyton has to pause as the emotions overcome her, and I squeeze both of her hands that are gripping mine in reassurance.
“You taught me what real love is, and you’re still teaching me everyday. You showed me that it didn’t have to be scary; that the love two people share can shield them against anything the world throws at them. That’s what you’ve given me. You’ve shown me that giving my heart to you guarantees that it is safer in your hands than anywhere else in the universe. I want to give that to you every day. We may not agree on mustard or ketchup, whether flip-flops can be worn after November, or if JIF is really the best peanut butter … but I love you more fiercely every day. I promise that I’ll always push you outside of your comfort zone, as long as you reel me back in. You’re the other side of my heart, Jared Hargrove. The missing chambers and ventricles didn’t exist until you came along. I love you, and I’m more than ready to join my life with yours.”
We’re both in tears by the time she finishes, and you could cut the emotion and happiness in the room with a thick kitchen knife.
“Well, I reckon there isn’t much more that I could say to seal the deal. By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.” Stanley motions between us.
I wrap my hands around the back of Peyton’s neck and close the distance between us. My lips broach the small space towards hers, and she gives a tiny sigh of complete bliss before we meet. Our wedding kiss is slow, there is no tongue but just a touching and holding of lips. It’s as if we’re having an entire conversation just from the contact of our skin. I press my mouth gently but solidly to Peyton’s, to my wife’s, and don’t want to come up for air.