Page 57 of Fire Me Up
“So,” Gael said when I finally pulled out, “pink shorts were a good choice?”
Ilaughed, falling onto the bed beside him. “Fuck yes.” I reached for my phone, wincing at the barrage of texts from our friends. “We should probably let them know we’re running late.”
Gael glanced at the mess we’d made of the bed, of ourselves, and grinned. “Worth it.”
Ipulled him close for a kiss, soft and sweet after the frantic pace of our fucking. “Always worth it with you.”
And in that moment, with Gael’s body warm against mine and Bacon purring contentedly in his cat tree, I almost believed that this happiness could last—that I could have this, have him, without the other shoe dropping.
“I love you,” he said, as if it was just that simple, that straightforward.
We cleaned up quickly, the post-sex glow making everything feel dreamlike and soft around the edges. Gael insisted on wearing those ridiculous pink shorts despite my half-heartedprotests. Truth was, I liked the possessive thrill that shot through me knowing everyone would stare at him, knowing he was coming home with me. He pulled a loose tank top over his head, the fabric hanging open at the sides in a way that showed flashes of his abs when he moved. I couldn’t stop staring at him, couldn’t believe this Greek god of a man loved me back.
“Ready?” Gael asked, sliding his wallet into his back pocket, which was a feat considering how tight those shorts were.
Ifinished pulling on my own outfit—black jeans and a purple mesh tank that showed off my tattoos. “Ready. Though Aiden’s gonna kill us for being late.”
Gael checked his phone and smirked. “Nah. He knows what’s up. We’ve got time for one stop first.”
“Another stop? Gael, they’ve been waiting for over an hour.”
He crossed the room and kissed me, deep and thorough, stealing my breath and my objections in one smooth move. “Trust me,” he whispered against my lips. “This is important.”
Isighed, pretending to be annoyed even as my heart raced with anticipation. “Fine. One stop.”
The Vegas Strip blazed with light against the darkening sky as we stepped out of our hotel. The air felt electric, charged with possibility and the collective energy of thousands of people chasing their next thrill. Gael held my hand firmly in his as we navigated through the crowd, his thumb absently stroking my knuckles in a way that sent warmth cascading through me.
“Where are we going?” I asked for the third time, getting a mysterious smile in response from my family. “Seriously, isthis some kind of surprise strip club? Because I’m not sure I want to see you get a lap dance from some oiled-up firefighter lookalike.”
Gael laughed, the sound rich and full. “Not even close.”
He guided me past casinos and tourist traps, weaving through crowds with purpose. I noticed he kept checking his phone, like he was coordinating something or watching the time. My stomach fluttered with a mixture of excitement and anxiety—after years of disappointing relationships, part of me still waited for disaster, for him to realize I wasn’t what he wanted after all.
We turned onto a quieter side street, and Gael stopped in front of a solid, unremarkable brick building. I looked up at the sign and froze, my heart stuttering in my chest.
MARRIAGE LICENSE BUREAU.
“Gael?” My voice came out strangled, barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears.
He turned to face me, his expression shifting from playful to vulnerable in a way that made my chest ache. “I know it’s fast,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “But I want to marry you.”
Istared at him, unable to form words as he pulled out a small velvet box from the back pocket of his tiny shorts. He flipped it open, revealing two matching rings nestled inside—sleek tungsten bands with a thin purple line running through the center.
“Here? Now?”
He chuckled, glancing behind him as his cheeks turned pink. “I can see now how that was confusing. I just thought it’d be a romantic place to propose.”
“Ah.”
“Oh my god. Dylan, you’re killing me. Marry me?” Gael asked, his voice steady despite the uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “I meant what I said before. I want everything with you, Dylan. I don’t want to waste another day without you being officially mine. We can plan any type of wedding you want. Take our time or elope. I mean, as long as you say yes.”
Ifelt tears burning behind my eyes, joy exploding in my chest so intense it was almost painful. I flung myself at him, nearly knocking the box from his hands as I crashed my lips against his. He caught me, steadying us both as he always did, laughing against my mouth.
“Is that a yes?” he asked when we broke apart, both breathless.
“Fuck yes.” I kissed him again, hard and desperate, pouring every ounce of love I felt into it. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”
Gael’s smile could have lit up the entire strip. He took my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm before tugging me toward the entrance. “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Okay! We’re getting married!”
