CHAPTER 17
Summer
“You kissed me,” I say.
My forehead is pressed against Declan’s chest and my back is against a building. There’s a sea of screaming, drunk people wandering around on the sidewalk. The smell of gunpowder hangs in the air and my ears ring from the fireworks display that seemed to go on and on and on.
Like our kiss did.
The position I’m in is not all that comfortable. The building is hard, and Declan is hard. Everywhere. His chest is hard muscle and the rest… I may be a virgin, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know a hard cock when I see one. Well, feel one, anyway.
“I kissed you through the whole firework thing,” Declan says.
I pat his chest. “You’re really hard.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I mean your chest. I’ve seen you eat. You should be a lot more squishy than you are.”
“I know, but I can’t get fat. It’s annoying. Everyone else can get fat but me. Doughnuts turn into muscle.”
“Me, too. I can’t get fat, either. I’ve been the same size since I was sixteen.”
“I know. And it’s one hell of a perfect size, too.” He squeezes me tight.
“You kissed me with tongue,” I tell him.
“Because you put your tongue in my mouth first. I didn’t want your tongue to feel lonely.”
“You’re so fucking thoughtful! Excuse my language. I mean, you’re so fucking thoughtful.”
“You already said that.”
I clench my arms around his middle and press into him. I can’t get close enough. Of course, this is fucked up and stupid, but I don’t care anymore. I want closer and I want more.
I want Declan.
“When do I get to see both your boobs?”
I pull away from him, lose my balance, and nearly smack my head against the building. He catches me, and we slump together in another embrace.
“You have to marry a girl before you’re allowed to see both boobs at the same time,” I say into his chest. “One boob is allowed for New Year’s Eve, but anything more has to be saved for marriage.”
“I fucking hate that rule!” he yells.
“That’s probably why Evander stole Phoebe away to marry her. He wants to see both of her boobs.”
“You’re so smart. You’re like a famous detective from a TV show.” He rests his chin on top of my head.
“That’s my favorite show,” I tell him.
“Which one?”
“The detective one.”
“Mine too. But I have to tell you something.”
I smile. Because I don’t care what he wants to tell me—whatever it is, I’m totally fine with it. Because this is Declan.
“I might be drunk,” he says.
“I’m not. I never drink more than two beers in a night.”
“I know, right? And you had zero beers tonight. So do you really think Phoebe is showing Evander her boobs right this minute?”
“Declan!” I try to turn us so that I’m not against the wall. I need to move. My legs are falling asleep. “You’re a genius! They’re probably getting married right this second because they’re having a New Year’s wedding! Why didn’t I think of that? It’s the ultimate in romance! Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to stop the wedding!” I drag him by his hand through the crowd, reaching the corner. I look up and down the snarled streets for a taxi, not even sure if they exist anymore, since taxis have been taken over by rideshares.
But I got this.
I stick two fingers against my tongue and let go with the kind of brain-splitting whistle I use to round up cattle. It works like a charm. A taxi skids up to us.
We fall into the back seat. I’m pretty sure the driver didn’t even come to a complete stop before he forced his way back into the stream of traffic.
“Where to?”
“We need to find Evander and Phoebe,” Declan says.
The driver closes his eyes like he’s annoyed with us, which is kind of rude. And maybe dangerous for someone driving a car. But I bet he’s had more than his share of drunks like us tonight.
“And where are these people?” he asks. He sounds very tired.
“They’re getting married,” Declan says. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars cash if you can take us to any wedding chapel that’s open.”
I correct Declan. “I have all the cash, so I’ll give the driver a thousand dollars to take us to a wedding chapel that’s open.”
“Sounds good to me,” the driver says.
Thankfully, it’s not far. I hand all of Declan’s cash to the driver. I think I forgot to count it. We spill out onto the sidewalk, and I read the pink neon sign over the arched doorway. “The Mariah Carey Chapel of Love,” I say aloud.
“I love her,” Declan says. “Let’s go hear her sing.”
We manage to weave our way through the horde of people and slip into the chapel interior.
There are quite a few sloppy drunks just like us milling around. A few more are seated in chairs. The walls are the color of Pepto Bismol and there’s a cupid hanging from the light fixture. Declan’s so tall that he smacks his forehead on cupid’s arrow.
We approach the reception desk. A small man in a tuxedo greets us. “Hello, happy couple!”
“Hello!” I say. “We’re looking for a wedding.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” he says. “We take Visa, MasterCard, Discover, and American Express.”
I’m not sure why we have to pay just to check to see if Evander and Phoebe are in there getting married, but what do I know?
Declan hands him his American Express card, the one that could purchase a city. “We’ll run a tab,” he says, which makes the tuxedo man extremely happy. I’m about to point out to Declan that we’re not in a bar when a very tall woman throws open the curtain.
She’s got teased-up, long blond hair and freakishly huge eyelashes, even bigger than Bryttni’s. She’s wearing a gold sequined body suit, mesh stockings, and high heels higher than any heels I’ve ever seen.
I gasp. I recognize her. This isn’t Mariah Carey.
“It’s Beyoncé,” Declan says, his voice a hushed whisper of awe. “I love you, Beyoncé.”
“I also love you, Beyoncé,” I say.
“Beyoncé’s all about the love! Are you two all about the love?” she replies.
“I love love,” I gush.
“I love love, too,” Declan says.
“So who’s next?” Beyoncé asks tuxedo guy.
He points at us with his eyebrows raised. “These two are running a tab, and you know what that means.”
“Front of the line!” Beyoncé stretches one hand high above her head and does a fancy flourish thing with her fingers. No wonder they call her a queen.
Then she sings out, “Love is in the air!” She has the voice of an angel. I’ve always thought that. She grabs Declan’s jacket and pulls him behind the curtain.
I stumble after them.
And that’s when things get kind of blurry.