[2017] We Said Forever

by Marie James

  He sighs at my persistence. “Fine. We can go there as well, but I was talking about the wedding chapel.”

  I tug away from him slightly as he wraps his arms around me after getting dressed and tilt my head up to his, confusion causing my brow to furrow. “For what?”

  He can’t possibly mean—

  “We’re getting married,” he declares.

  “Today?” The squeak in my voice betrays my surprise.

  “Now,” he proclaims.

  “It’s three in the morning, Blaze.”

  “It’s Vegas, Fallyn,” he counters.

  “We need to sleep on it,” I say, tossing my jeans down and putting my yoga pants on.

  “If we stay here,” he whispers in my ear, “we won’t be sleeping.”

  “If I don’t sleep now, I’ll sleep all day tomorrow and your wedding plans will be ruined.”

  I climb in the bed and pull back the covers, indicating he should climb in beside me.

  With feigned annoyance, he shoves his jeans back down his hips and climbs into the bed gloriously naked. My body hums in disapproval at my declaration that we’d only be sleeping.

  “How do we do this?” I ask into the darkness after lying awake for an hour, unable to sleep.

  Doubt creeps in and I know he must be struggling with the same because his body hasn’t relaxed next to mine either.

  “Which part?”

  “Marriage, while still in college. Where do we live?”

  “I don’t want you at my house,” he says, and I stiffen beside him. “All the guys on the team will try to get in your pants and I can’t kill everyone on my team. It’ll make it incredibly hard to win nationals again next year.”

  I laugh, feeling better at his explanation.

  “You can live here,” I offer. “But Charity may try to fuck you.”

  “She’s toxic,” he mutters.

  “I know that now,” I agree. “Maybe I can convince her to move out.”

  “Just you and me here?” he asks, a hint of hope filling his voice.

  “Would that be okay?”

  “I could fuck you in the kitchen.”

  “Life goals?” I ask with a chuckle.

  “You’re my life goal,” he confesses. “Anything above that is just a bonus.”

  I curl into his chest, tracing his abdomen with the tips of my finger.

  “I’m scared,” I confess on a whisper, praising myself internally for being brave enough to put it out there, but at the same time, hating that it may give him a chance to back out.

  Silence fills the room for the longest time.

  “I am too,” he admits. “But no amount of unease I feel about taking such a big step with you makes me doubt the fact that I will love you every single second for the rest of my life. We’ll fight, argue, and say shit we don’t mean, but at the end of the day, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. As cliché as it sounds, you complete me.”

  I smile against his chest, turning my face a few inches to brush my lips against his skin.

  He holds me tighter. “I can’t wait to make it official, Fallyn Porter.”

  Chapter 16

  Blaze

  No matter how much I fight it, I can’t stop the tremble in my hands as I reach up and cup my wife’s face.

  “I love you,” I whisper as the Austin Powers’ lookalike pronounces us man and wife. His assistant in the corner begins to play Love Shack by the B52’s on the cheap surround sound.

  She sputters a laugh against my lips as the dim light in the tiny chapel reflects off the incredibly inexpensive gold band on my left hand. Lucky for us, they sold them here, since we forgot them after getting our paperwork from the marriage license bureau.

  “This is crazy,” she exclaims as I lift her off her feet and twirl her in a circle.

  Her long hair whips around us and I realize I could never love anyone more than I do her. In a matter of weeks, she’s become my soul purpose for surviving. I can’t wait to finish school and give her everything she’s been afraid to ask for—everything I’ve silently hoped for but never gave myself enough credit to wish for.

  An unfamiliar throat clears, pulling us from our exuberant celebration. I look over at Mr. Powers, jacked up teeth and all, and cock an eyebrow.

  “Hey, man,” he says, looking at his watch, “I’m not trying to rush you, but there’s another ceremony happening in two minutes.”

  I glance behind me to see a couple who has to be every bit of seventy years old standing in the back of the chapel looking up at each other, so in love. I know the look well. It’s the same way I’m looking at Fallyn.

  Mr. Powers takes a step closer, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “For twenty bucks, you can use the office to fuck your new wife. The big boss is out for the next hour. Super comfy couch in there.”

  He winks conspiratorially, and I want to deck him.

  “I’ll make love to my wife in our bed, thanks.” The tug of Fallyn’s hands on my arm pulls me away from the douche seconds before I plow his face in. “Disrespectful fuck,” I mumble only loud enough for her to hear.

  “No getting arrested on our wedding day,” she chides playfully as we exit the chapel.

  “I promise,” I agree as we stop at the front desk. We both hand over our wigs and I peel my black sideburns off and place them on the counter for the receptionist. She hands us an envelope with copies of our marriage license, telling us how to file to get an official copy in two weeks.

  “I liked the side burns,” Fallyn says as we climb in my truck.

  “Didn’t look very realistic,” I say, running my hand through my blond hair.

  She just watches me for a long moment, taking in every feature on my face. I swallow roughly, praying she isn’t having second thoughts.

  “I can’t believe how much I love you,” she finally says. Her words are wonderful to hear, but aren’t needed since the sentiment is sparkling in her gorgeous brown eyes.

  I reach for her, but she’s already crawling across the seat and climbing into my lap. Her hands wrap around my neck the second our lips find each others.

  “I’m not going to fuck you in the truck,” I mumble against her lips when her hips roll in a tiny circle against the erection I don’t even try to fight.

  “We should’ve taken Austin up on his offer,” she jokes, nipping my bottom lip.

  I pinch her ass, loving the way she squeals and presses against me harder.

  “Let’s go home,” she begs.

  “We need to stop by my house first so I can grab some things for the next couple days.”

  She pouts. “Just a couple days?”

  “I’m not moving furniture on my wedding night,” I tease. “I need some things to get me through the week, then I’ll get the rest on Saturday.”

  She kisses my lips and both my cheeks with loud, wet pops, then climbs off my lap.

  “That okay with you, Mrs. Porter?”

  She grins at the use of her new name. “I guess it will have to do.”

  We both smile like idiots the whole way to my house, but her face falls when we pull up and see people milling all around the yard, the house too full to contain them all.

  “Is it like this all the time?” she asks, looking out the window at a guy without a shirt on as he stumbles toward a group of giggling girls. “The sun’s barely down.”

  “Why do you think I spend so much time at your apartment?” I say.

  “So, you married me for a new place to stay?” She’s joking, but it hits me the wrong way. My mother used to taunt me, call me a mooch, remind me daily that I contributed nothing to the household. The thought that, deep down, Fallyn may feel the same way annoys me.

  “Don’t say shit like that. I married you because I love you and don’t want to spend another day without you in my life.” I grab her hand and kiss the inside of her wrist. “If I were here, this wouldn’t be happening tonight. This party is for us.”

  “Us?” she asks.

>   I nod. “I texted a few of the guys and told them the good news. They wanted to invite a few people over. I didn’t expect it to be this big, though.”

  “If this is for us, I have to say I’m surprised the girls are actually smiling. I would’ve expected them to throw trash at me or something.” I lean toward her, kissing her lips, a silent vow to spend the rest of my life making sure she knows she’s the only woman I see, the only woman I want in my life.

  “Not a single one of those girls matter to me, Wife.” I wink at her and climb out, indicating I’ll come around to help her out.

  She gives me her hand, but I overlook it, scooping her up and carrying her up the driveway to the front door. Ignoring the slaps on the back and jabs about being tied down, I head to the stairs.

  Several of my teammates catcall and urge me to “fuck it hard”. Halfway up the stairs, Fallyn tenses in my arms.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask before reaching out for the doorknob.

  “Nothing,” she whispers, refusing to make eye contact with me.

  “Something’s wrong,” I say, lowering her feet to the ground. I pin her against the wall and tilt her head up with a finger under her chin, forcing her to look into my eyes. “Tell me.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s stupid.”

  “Fallyn,” I warn.

  Stubbornness settles in as her eyes close. I wait her out, standing there in silence until she’s ready to speak.

  “I can wait here all night,” I say.

  “How many girls have you slept with in that room?” Her eyes open with pained intuition.

  I stiffen before releasing a deep breath and answering honestly. “I don’t know.”

  “You want the first time we make love as husband and wife to be in a bed where you’ve slept with countless women?”

  Her words hit me like a blow to the gut. The only thing on my mind was being inside my amazing wife, but leave it to her to open my eyes to the mistake I was about to make.

  “No,” I answer with an emphatic shake of my head. We stand in the hall, the sound of the party all around us, just gazing into each other’s eyes. “I don’t want memories of you in that bed.”

  She smiles at the easiness of my truth and decides to push me just a little further. “So, you don’t plan to bring it to the apartment?”

  I shake my head, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth as she asks questions rather than insisting I leave the filthy thing here. “We don’t have anywhere to put it anyway.”

  She smiles up at me, and I’m happy the crisis is averted. Drama is the last thing we need on our wedding day. Just as the thought hits, my bubble bursts when Charity comes slithering up to us.

  Wild hair, smeared lipstick, and a backwards tank top are only a few of the hints that this girl has already been overserved this evening.

  “Well, if it isn’t the newlyweds,” she slurs as she posts up beside Fallyn. Her shoulder against the wall seems to be the only thing holding her upright.

  “Hey, Charity,” Fallyn says as cordially as possible.

  “I have a great idea for a wedding gift,” she begins. “How about I fuck both of you?”

  Fallyn cringes at her friend’s brashness, and the thought of Charity getting anywhere near my dick makes him hide in fear. I look at her—really look at her. Covered in sweat, constricted pupils even in the dim hallways—she’s high as a fucking kite. I’d recognize the signs anywhere, especially since I had to stare at the same symptoms my entire childhood.

  I grab Fallyn’s arm to pull her away from the wall before this situation gets any more volatile.

  She spins her head around and glares at her friend. “Go fuck yourself,” she spits out. “Likely the only action you’ll be getting tonight.”

  The words don’t even phase Charity as her smile turns villainous. “Not true,” she counters. “I’ve already banged the freshman lineup. Just call me Monique.”

  I grab Fallyn by the shoulders as she lunges for her so-called friend. Throwing her over my shoulder in an attempt to keep her from clawing Charity’s eyes out, I carry her back down the stairs. I stop and tap Danny on the shoulder before heading into the kitchen. He’s not too happy that he has to pull his mouth away from the pixie-like blonde chick sitting on his lap.

  “Get that redheaded skank out of this house,” I command, pointing to Charity as she makes her way down the stairs.

  He grumbles, but gets up and takes care of her. The last thing I need is Fallyn not being able to enjoy herself.

  A second after we step into the kitchen, a champagne cork shoots across the room followed by a stream of bubbles. Everyone cheers as the girl manning the makeshift bar hands me a glass of bubbly. I pass it to Fallyn, who holds it like it’s going to bite her.

  “Just champagne, beautiful.” I smile and take a shot glass full of an almost black liquid. “What’s this?”

  “Liquid heroin,” the girl answers with an unassuming smile. My nose scrunches up at the name. “Jägermeister and peppermint liqueur.” She nods, encouraging me to take it.

  Just the name makes my stomach turn and I chastise myself. I can’t let my mother’s history keep me from having a good time.

  The bartender’s smile widens when I toss back the shot and ask for another. It’s more bitter than I expected it to be.

  “You’re driving,” Fallyn whispers in my ear.

  I nod in understanding, but toss the second shot back anyway. “Just a few shots, Wife. I’ll be fine.”

  She huffs, taking a sip of her champagne.

  “Let’s dance,” I whisper in her ear before pulling her from the kitchen. “I want to make every guy in here jealous.”

  She grins against my lips as my hips start moving against hers. The deep bass of the music the DJ is playing echoes all around us, and before long, everyone else fades away. Just like the night we first met, it’s only me and her on the dance floor. No one else exists. There’s not another single soul who can invade our blissful bubble.

  My lips find her neck and her hands dig into my hair, just like that first night.

  “I’m the happiest man in the world,” I vow in her ear.

  “You’re hard,” she says. “Seems there’s something else that would make you happier.”

  I grind against her harder, my eyes darting around to find a vacant spot against a wall or dark corner, but they all seem to be taken.

  “You ready to leave?” I ask after only two songs.

  She grins up at me. “I never wanted to be here to begin with.”

  Without bothering with goodbyes or grabbing some clothes, we jump in the Jeep.

  Her hand finds my thigh and caressing fingers stroke me through the fabric of my pants.

  “God, that feels good,” I praise. “Take me out. I need skin on skin.”

  I look down to watch her unbutton and unzip my pants, shifting my hips up a couple inches so she can slide them down to get the fabric to loosen under my sac.

  With one hand on the wheel, the other finds the back of her head, the need to guide her greater than my restraint in letting her get there on her own. A flash of running orange demands my attention the same second my brain insists I respond. The wheel jerks to the right before I can process the cat running across the road.

  Terror grips my heart as my eyes find Fallyn’s and realize she has no clue what’s going on. A split second turns into eternity as I pull her to my chest, the only way I can think to protect her. The Jeep tips. The deafening sound of her screams tangle with the crunch of metal as shards of glass fly all around us.

  Her shrieking stops the same second I feel the impact of the asphalt against my shoulder. Thunderous silence engulfs us as we slide to a stop on the opposite side of the road. Seconds turn into years as my eyes attempt to adjust to the sudden darkness, and unsure hands grope, looking for my wife.

  Chapter 17

  Fallyn

  The heavy, metallic taste of iron swims in my mouth, no matter how many times I attempt to swa
llow it away. My head rages with the thundering of a thousand drums, and the only thing I can think of is how much I need a drink of water. The disgusting flavor in my mouth has to be from a hangover I can’t remember earning.

  The wedding.

  The party and horrible confrontation with Charity.

  Leaving.

  Reaching down to wrap my hands around my husband’s dick.

  The wreck…

  Memories of the night hit me in waves, some with absolute clarity and others as if they were part of a fading dream. Marrying Blaze Porter has to be one of the memories my mind has fabricated. I could never get that lucky.

  “Jesus, baby. Wake up. Are you okay?” Blaze’s voice is almost like a whisper, which doesn’t fit the actual words he’s saying.

  I open my mouth to remind him I hate when he calls me baby, but no sound comes out. My eyes are only able to open a crack, but blinding light forces them shut again. Wincing against the pain, I reach into my subconscious for calmness from the activity raging all around me.

  “Baby, please! No, no, Fallyn. Stay with me.”

  “Sir, you need to step back so we can help her.”

  In my mind, I tell him to hush. I have the mother of all headaches, but the words never escape my lips. Luckily, my mind silences, and so do the voices surrounding me.

  ***

  “Ms. McIntyre? Can you open your eyes for me?” An unfamiliar, masculine voice seeps into my subconscious, destroying the peace of my dreams.

  I attempt to shake my head back and forth, swaying a little when the pain and vertigo take over. I pull my hand up, reaching for my head, only to realize someone is holding it. I crack one eye open to find Blaze sitting beside what seems to be a hospital bed.

  “Hey, baby,” he whispers, as if he knows how bad my head hurts.

  “Don’t call me baby.” My voice is so hoarse and throaty, I almost don’t recognize it as my own.

  His face falls, but he doesn’t release my hand. From the look on his face, I wonder if he thinks I’m mad at him for some reason. I begin to explain how he knows I hate that nickname, but I’m interrupted.

  “Ms. McIntyre?” My squinted eyes dart to the right, the action causing more searing pain in my head. “If you want me to make your boyfriend leave—”