Page 14 of The Forever Experiment

Drinks in Caesar’s. She did buy that dress, but not for a bit. For a wedding. Afterward, I bought that fucking boulder. I begin to reach into the pocket of my trousers, locating a simple black tungsten ring. The one she bought for me before we stumbled down to a little chapel and fulfilled that marriage pact from all those years ago.

“Easton!” Maya’s voice is damn near blood-curdling from the other room, and I can only assume she came to the same realization.

The bedroom door flies open a moment later, and we both pause. She’s staring at me where I sit on the couch, twisting the ring with what I know must be a shocked expression. I lift my head to find her holding up a piece of paper with what I can only describe as wild, frantic eyes.

“What the fuck did we do?” she asks breathlessly, enunciating each word.

“Maya, baby,” I say as calmly as possible. “I think we got married.”

6

Maya

“Who the fuck isArnold?” Easton asks, rubbing the scruff on his jaw as we study the marriage certificate in front of us.

Arnold was our witness, apparently.

The signature is messy enough that whatever last name he signed isn’t legible, not that it matters. Neither of us know a fucking Arnold.

And next to Arnold’s signature is mine, Easton’s, and the minister’s. Fuck.

“Why did we do this?”

“We must’ve thought it was a good idea at the time.” Easton lets out a breathless laugh, pointing at the date on the certificate. “Look, we must’ve got married after midnight, because it’s dated February fourteenth.” He lifts his head smiling at me. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Isn’t Valentine’s Day the same day we…” I trail off, pretending like I’m not sure, though I remember the date Easton ravished me in that library thoroughly. Ten years ago to the day.

“This cannot be happening,” I mutter, because if it was, that would be fucking kismet, wouldn’t it? I rub a hand down my face, biting back a yawn. “There is no way that two people who are so intoxicated they won’t remember their wedding the next morning can be legally bound.”

“I think that’s what Vegas is all about, baby.” Easton places a hand on my lower back in what I know is meant to be a reassuring gesture, but I shake off the touch. I’m too overwhelmed for it right now, and while he does have an uncanny ability to settle my nerves, it won’t work this time, since he’s the goddamn cause of them.

“Well, as long as we don’t actually file this with the county, we should be fine. We’ll just…shred it and forget this ever happened.”

Easton points to the fine print at the bottom of our marriage certificate. “It says that this is a keepsake copy, not an official document.”

“Fuck.” I should’ve known, based on the showgirls and poker trips on the page, but I was being hopeful Vegas is just festive about its court documents.

“I think the official certificate is with the minister. They’ll probably file it today.”

I turn to face Easton. Even disheveled and in last night’s clothes, he looks damn good. I like the way his five o’clock shadow has grown out, the tousled mess of hair atop his head, the way that even though I know he didn’t sleep well, his blue eyes sparkling when he looks at me.

This entire situation is a fucking disaster, but I’m not sure I’d want to be caught in a storm like this with anyone other than Easton Mason.

“Do you think if we caught the minister before he delivered the marriage certificate, we could intercept it and stop this thing from being made official?” I ask.

“Maybe.” Easton sighs, and it almost sounds disappointed.

I glance at the watch on my wrist, noting the time. I have forty-five minutes before I’m supposed to be at my first workshop of the day. I’m not leading it, fortunately, but considering I missed last night’s dinner, I can’t afford to be absent from anything else.

“I’ve got it, Maya,” Easton says, eyeing me. “You get ready, and I’ll head down to the chapel. The address is here on the certificate. I’ll see if I can speak to the minister and get this all cleared up.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, easier than I have all morning.

Easton tosses me a crooked smile, and a need surges through my being that has me raising on my toes, pressing my lips against his cheek. I think that need is gratitude.

Easton makes me feel supported, never makes me feel alone.

He grabs my hip, steading me before placing a quick kiss against my forehead.

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