Page 3 of Hot Shot

He opens the little box, and my lungs shoot open with a gasp. In the bed of dark velvet is a small, sparkling diamond ring.

I blink tears away so I can see the ring, and beyond it, his hopeful face. But I can’t speak. So I nod, my face bent.

“Yes?” he asks, unsure.

“Yes!” I answer, and fling myself at him, lips first.

He catches me, kisses me to the cheers and clapping of a knot of lookie-loos. But I don’t care who’s around. Not as he puts the ring on my finger, not as we kiss some more. Not as I live a few minutes of my dream, a fantasy.

For one night, I was going to be Wilder’s wife.

After a quick cab ride, we’re at the county clerk’s, signing a marriage license. Imighthavemaybeconsidered this as an option before we left, so I searched the internet last week and found out that A) you need a license to get married in a chapel, B) you can get a license in about an hour, and C) the clerk’s office is open until midnight. You know, just in case.

We spot an Austin Powers chapel, which is one of my dad’s favorite movies, and as such I’ve seen it a trillion times. Which means Wilder has seen it at least a million times. As far as I’m concerned, it’s perfect, and Wilder doesn’t seem to care any way we cut it, as long as we end up married.

In a foyer covered in fuchsia shag wallpaper, we’re greeted by two Fembots, their fur-lined sheer nighties dotted with lightfrom a spinning ball hanging on the ceiling. They escort us to their counter, the base of which is shaped like a pair of lips, and have us sign a few things. I don’t have a ring for Wilder, but they have options—I try to convince him to get a thick gold band with a gigantic tiger’s eye in it, but like a wet blanket, he opts for a traditional, plain old gold band. And once we pay up, the Fembots disappear to get things ready.

My ring goes back in its box for a moment, and as he slips it into his pocket, I smooth my sundress, suddenly nervous.

“You sure you want to do this, Cass?” he asks.

“Never been so sure of anything. I just wished I’d dressed better.”

He slips his hand into the curve of my neck and smiles down at me. “You’ve never been so beautiful.”

I chuckle. “You’re just saying that because you’re about to own me for twenty-four hours.”

“It’s only fair. You’ve owned me for five years.”

I melt into him as he kisses me. I’ve never loved anything as much as I love him.

I’ve never been loved like he loves me.

People like to say we don’t understand, that it’s just young love. Hormones. And I’m sure those things are true. But I know somehow that I’ll never find a love like this again. Not ever.

When the kiss breaks, we sigh happily, and he strokes my face while I stare into his.

“Think we can scrounge up enough to get our own room?” he asks.

“I was thinking…I have an emergency credit card Mom snuck me. This feels like an emergency to me.”

Wilder laughs, threading his fingers in mine. “She’s gonna kill you. And probably me too.” He brings my knuckles to his lips.

I shrug. “I got nothin’ to lose, baby. I saw a little place around the corner that might work.”

“Good. I need you all to myself tonight. I only get one night. Gotta make it count.”

I’m an inch away from hitching my dress right then and there, but the Fembots bust back into the room.

One takes Wilder, the other shooing me toward the double doors of the chapel.

“Here are some flowers, honey,” she says, handing me a bouquet of fake plastic daisies in psychedelic colors that definitely didn’t exist in nature. “I’ll hang on to his ring for you, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Gosh, you’re gorgeous,” she says, fluffing my hair. “Do you mind if I…” She gestures to my ponytail.

“No, be my guest.”

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