Chapter 14 John
JOHN
Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that last shot.
I’m definitely drunk, leaning into Chad just as much as he is to me. This whole night with him has been so weird and confusing. I’ve felt way too many things, and I didn’t know what else to do besides drink more.
On top of all the other questionable shit he’s done this weekend, he’s now talking about getting married. He tried to backtrack and make it seem like he just wanted to see a wedding, but he said I was his Liam. Which I think makes him my Blake?
So, is this straight man actually trying to get married? To me?
Obviously, that won’t be happening. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t be marrying anyone but Luke… And that’s not possible, so I simply won’t get married.
I’ll just continue to go along with what Chad says because he’s too endearing to say no to.
He’ll see some random people get married, check off that box in his head, then maybe we can go back to that gay club for real, and I can find someone who actually wants to get me off in the bathroom and life will make sense again.
Chad seemed like he wanted to, that unhelpful voice in my head reminds me. But he didn’t really want to. He’s just drunk and friendly.
Way too fucking friendly. Tomorrow he’ll go right back to claiming he’s only attracted to women.
I wasn’t going to take advantage of how lonely he apparently is by accepting his offer to help me out.
Even if I’m kind of regretting that now as I look over at him with all his muscles and that stupid annoying smile and… nope, focus.
Chad isn’t actually into me, so I shouldn’t be considering if I’m actually into him. He’s straight. This means nothing to him. And maybe if I tell myself that enough times, I’ll believe it.
We walk up to the chapel, and it’s definitely cheesy. It’s white with large pink letters on a massive sign.
“Let’s go inside!” Chad shouts, dragging me by my hand toward the entrance. I stumble forward but steady myself quickly. Chad doesn’t need to see how drunk I am or he’ll probably offer to carry me home, and we don’t need that when he’s just as bad as I am.
“Hello, can I help you?” a man asks behind the counter at the front.
It feels like we’re at a restaurant. God, I wish we were at a restaurant; that sounds like a way better idea.
Why are we even here if they don’t have food?
I was so nice yesterday getting Chad food, and I’m never that nice.
We should have done that again. Maybe after this.
“Hi, yes, it’s so great to meet you,” Chad says to the guy who works here, drawing my attention back to the fact that we’re in a fucking chapel right now. “I’m Chad, and I’ve always dreamed of seeing a Las Vegas wedding. Any chance we can sit in on the next one? I promise we’ll be good.”
No part of me believes that he’ll be good, so I snort a laugh as the man looks between us.
“Actually, we don’t have a wedding happening right now. But the chapel is empty if you’d like to go look at it?”
“Damn. No wedding? But yes, I want to look!” Chad practically shouts, still with a death grip on my palm, as the man comes out from behind the counter and leads us toward the chapel. Chad is still way too loud as he turns to me. “John, this is so exciting.”
“So, are you two already married then, or perhaps looking to get married?” the man asks.
“I wish we were married!” Chad admits before he thumbs in my direction. “Still trying to get this one on board.”
“You really have no filter, huh?” I ask, despite already knowing the answer.
“I can’t help that I’m so into you! You’re my Liam. I just want you to be mine for real. Then we don’t have to be besties-in-laws, we can be husbands! Doesn’t that sound so much better?”
Does it?
Wait no. Definitely not.
“I’ll, uh, give you two a minute in here to look around and see how it feels. If you want to get married tonight, we have space. Obviously.” The guy gives us a polite nod and disappears into a back office, leaving Chad and me standing alone in a tacky chapel.
“John, this is so magical, we have to get married!” Chad pleads.
Magical? Fuck, what grown man describes a cheesy Vegas chapel as magical? Chad. That’s who. He looks so hopeful, and I can’t help but tease him a little. “Is this why you brought me here? To convince me to marry you?”
“Well, no… Maybe? I don’t know, I did think we’d watch someone else get married and then maybe you’d be inspired seeing other people in love and realize that it could be us, too.
Now that I’ve realized just how much I like you, I just thought…
I don’t know, John, would being married to me be the worst thing in the world?
” He throws his arms out to the sides like I’m exhausting him.
“Chad, you’re drunk,” I remind him.
“I’m not drunk,” he lies. “You’re drunk.”
“Not as drunk as you.”
“Maybe,” he agrees with that giant smile of his on full display, “but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do this.”
God, that look on his stupid perfect face. Why is it so hard to say no to him? I grunt as I look around the chapel. There’s no way I could get married. No way. I promised myself I wouldn’t ever get married.
“John.” Chad comes up to me, wrapping his arms around my neck again.
“You said that I’m the happiest person you know, but being around you this weekend has made me happier than I can remember being in such a long time, and well, I think you deserve to be happier too.
You’re grumpy, sure, but I’ve also seen you smile more in the last two days than I ever thought possible, and I don’t think it’s cocky to say it’s been because of me.
I know you now. You’re secretly soft, you might act annoyed, but you like me, I know you do.
You keep holding my hand and you don’t hate it—”
“I do, though.” I insist, but it even sounds like a lie to me.
“—and you always look out for me,” he finishes, ignoring me entirely.
“You make me feel cared for and protected, like I’m someone precious who should be adored exactly as I am.
I’ve never felt appreciated in a relationship before, John.
Ever. But with you? I know I don’t have to worry about a thing. ”
“We’re not even in a relationship,” I attempt to dismiss him.
“We’d be so cute together though. No, not cute. Hot. We’d be hot as fuck, John. Could you imagine us in matching leather jackets that say ‘Just married’? We’re so getting those!”
“No, we aren’t. We’re not getting married, Chad.”
He tugs me closer to him with his arms still wrapped around my neck. I don’t agree with what he’s saying, obviously, but I find myself wrapping my arms around his waist. Holding him there against me feels too nice not to.
But I know it shouldn’t. Chad isn’t… It should feel wrong.
“I can’t get married,” I insist.
“Why not?” he asks, looking at me like a lost puppy.
I should say because we’re both drunk, that this is ridiculous, and because he’s straight, but instead, I give him the truth.
“I said I’d never marry anyone else.”
Chad’s eyes go wide. “Oh my god. Were you married?”
“No.” The word is rough in my throat as I break eye contact. I haven’t talked about this, ever, with anyone. “But I wanted to marry someone once.”
“And…?” he prompts.
“And it didn’t… He’s gone.”
“I’m sorry, John,” Chad says earnestly.
I don’t say anything as we stand here, holding each other. My mind is spinning between logic and desire.
“So,” Chad starts again. “What, you promised you’d be miserable for the rest of your life? Is that why you’re so grumpy and boring now?”
I let out a surprised laugh. “First of all, fuck you. And second, no. I didn’t promise him that. He’d want me to be happy.” I sigh, trying to stay in the moment and not get lost in the emotions of my past.
“Then why aren’t you?” Chad asks thoughtfully.
“Because it’s not that easy!” I scoff, dropping my arms from Chad and breaking free from his grip around my neck.
This is why I don’t talk about him. I don’t even normally let myself think about him. But between Chad and the alcohol, I guess I’ve lost the tight grip I normally have on my control.
“Hey, hey,” Chad soothes, rushing up to put what I’m sure he means as a comforting hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive. But… if he wanted you to be happy, I was just pointing out that you don’t have to keep suffering to prove you loved him.”
My eyes snap to his because what the fuck? “When did you get so insightful?”
“I’m a man of multitudes.” He grins, and I laugh, despite myself, because that didn’t even make sense, but I also know what he means.
“And maybe I’m drunk,” he offers, lifting his hand and drawing his pointer finger and thumb together.
“But I think you deserve something good. Something fun. Something—”
“Don’t say it.”
“Something like me.” He smiles. “I promise I’ll be the best husband ever.
I’d cook for you—well, I’d order food for you.
I’d hug you every day and hold your hand.
I’d make you laugh. I’d be the little spoon, or the big spoon if you’d prefer!
I’d remind you that you’re, like, super hot even when you’re being mean to me for no reason because I fully accept your grumpiness.
You don’t have to change for me at all. Just marry me, say yes! ”
I grit my teeth. This man is impossible. He’s too loud, too confident, too… charming.
I hate that the voice in my head—telling me that I need to loosen up and have more fun, and that Chad is right and I could be happy—sounds like Luke.
But is he right?
More than anything, I hate that Chad is making it all sound so easy, so simple. That he’s making a part of me actually want to do this.
“And you’re running out of excuses. So prove it,” Chad challenges, cocky as ever.
“Prove what?”
“That your life didn’t end just because a chapter did. That you can choose something new. Choose to be happy, John.” He lifts his chin. “Choose me.”
“Chad.”
“Yes, my love?”
“Don’t call me that.”