Page 39 of Imperfect Cadence

“If by fun, do you mean I had the best experience of my life and have a meeting with a producer in LA to talk about signing a record deal? Because fuck yeah I had fun!” he shouted, simultaneously brandishing a business card from his back pocket for me to inspect.

Carl Smuthers - Executive Producer at Quest Studios

I whistled. Shit, I knew the venue manager had mentioned a bougie producer, but I hadn’t anticipated she meant one from one of the biggest record labels in the world.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Princess.” I pulled Colt into a searing kiss, letting all my nerves dissolve. The anxiety was pointless; it was just him and me, and we would make it work.

Colt was my forever, and it was time to tell him that.

I placed Colt’s feet back on the perpetually sticky ground before sinking down onto one knee.

16. “Marry Me”

Grayson

“Will you marry me?”

The words had fallen from my lips without permission, but I didn’t regret them. I had a grand speech planned about my deep love for Colt and my commitment to being by his side for the rest of our lives—sharing both the highs and the lows. I’d tell him the idea of waking up beside each other every day, navigating life together, was my greatest desire.

But as the words hung in the air, I knew that they didn’t need repeating. I belonged to Colt, and I had hope that he felt the same.

Marriage evidently hadn’t crossed Colt’s mind. The widening of his gorgeous brown eyes, shimmering in the sparkling lights, betrayed his thoughts—surprise, disbelief, hope.

“W-What?” He sounded so small and uncertain, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor of sass and confidence. He looked like he thought I might be playing a joke on him, hesitant to unveil his true desires in case I laughed it off and claimed I hadn’t been serious.

Maybe the speech was needed after all. “You heard me, sweetheart. I want to marry you. If you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you. Colton Ray, will you be my husband?”

I maintained my position on one knee. Fumbling in my jeans pocket, I retrieved the vintage ring box that had resided in my nightstand for over a decade since my grandmother passed away. With care, I opened the softened velvet to reveal the sole reminder I had of my favorite family member.

Grandma Betty had been a rebel of her times, and I knew she would have adored Colt. When I had come to terms with my bisexuality, there had been times I worried about not being able to give my partner my grandmother’s ring if I fell in love with a man—a notion that seemed absurd. Gender should never dictate whether I could offer the love of my life a ring that held such sentimental value to me.

Then Colt came into my life. My beautiful Colt. A man who proudly embraced his masculinity while also enjoying painting his nails, adorning himself with jewelry, and wearing makeup that complemented his Gothic Barbie aesthetic to perfection. Colt would wear my grandmother’s ring with pride—a nearly four-carat, almost black sapphire. Not only because it perfectly matched his style, but because he understood how significant the small token was to me. It affirmed that Colt was my person and I was convinced that Grandma Betty had played a role in introducing him into my life from beyond the grave.

“Gray,” Colt said, his tears barely contained. “Is that what I think it is?” He reached out a shaky hand to gently brush his fingers over the delicate gold band. I was genuinely impressed that he recognized it, considering I had only ever shown him the ring once, and that had been months ago. I had shared the story with him of the time when I was a kid, and Grandma Betty had caught me trying to smuggle her knitting outside to make sweaters for some abandoned birds I’d found. It had struck me in that moment how much I longed to introduce Colt to her. The next best thing had been showing him her engagement ring she left me and attempting, in vain, to describe how incredible she’d been and the profound impact she had left on my worldview.

She’d helped shape me into the hopeless romantic I was, now on bended knee and pledging my undying love to the man of my dreams. “Yes, baby, it’s my grandma’s ring. Because it makes sense to give it to the one person who means more to me than anything else in the world… So is that a yes?”

Colt couldn’t answer; tears flowed freely down his cheeks in an open display of emotion I had rarely witnessed from him. Instead, he nodded and stuck his left hand out toward me, the gesture serving as all the confirmation I needed.

Gently taking the delicate ring out of its velvet bed, I slid the jewel onto Colt’s ring finger, hoping it would remain there for the rest of his life. It fit perfectly, another sign in my mind that we were meant to be. Leaning forward to kiss his hand, Colt had other ideas. He crash-tackled me to the ground, showering me in frantic kisses and whispered declarations of love.

My heart felt like it might burst out of my chest from happiness. Our quick pecks turned into deeper kisses, almost as if we were trying to fuse our bodies together. Before we could get too carried away, we hurried out of the bar hand in hand, huge grins plastered on both of our faces. The warm air hit as soon as we stepped outside, causing sweat to pool along the curve at the base of my spine. We started our walk back to the truck, but the urge to claim his mouth became too overwhelming. Glancing around, I caught sight of an alley tucked down the side of the building we’d just exited. I chuckled to myself: how poetic that we’d begun our lives together in an alley, and now we would seal our future in another one. Who said alleys weren’t romantic? Without speaking, I led us far enough in that the noise from the road faded to a volume allowing us to hear each other.

“Did you really mean it?” Colt’s eyes were still wide in disbelief that this was really happening. His need for reassurance brought out my protective instincts. I wanted to confront every person who had ever made Colt hesitant to accept that good things could happen to him, that someone might love him. It made me angry, but not at him. If Colt needed me to repeat myself a thousand times a day to believe I loved him, then I’d do it with a smile on my face, grateful for the privilege.

“Of course I meant it, baby. I was so scared that you’d say no, that you’d think it was too soon, that we’re too young, that…” Colt silenced my rambling with a fierce kiss, claiming my mouth the way I’d craved to claim his. Then, just as quickly as it ignited, he pulled away.

“Then I want to do it now,” he declared, leaving no room for an alternative.

“Do what now?” I asked, needing to confirm I’d understood him correctly.

“Get married. Right now. If that’s alright with you? I don’t want to wait and have you change your mind.” His eyes cast down to the ring on his finger, his subtle nerves revealed through his fidgeting.

My poor baby. How could he not understand? There was nothing that I could think of that would ever sway my decision. “Okay, let’s go get a marriage license then.”

His eyes shot back up in astonishment. “Wait a second. Are you sure? I mean, none of your family is here, or any of the guys. Surely you at least want Remy here? I don’t want you to feel pressured just because I’m a needy bitch sometimes,” he backtracked.

“Baby, I don’t care if my family is here. You’re my family now, and I want to be your husband as soon as I can. I actually researched what we needed to do in Nevada to get married before we came here in case you wanted to elope. And, oh, by the way, surprise,” I gestured theatrically, “Remy flew in yesterday to help me set things up for today. And he’s still here because he was secretly hoping he’d get to be our witness,” I confessed with a sheepish grin.

---