Page 112 of The Barkeep and the Bro

I...the man’s logic was tough to crack. I did love him. I did want to spend the rest of my life with him. I didn’t need a huge ceremony to codify that statement. I just needed Mitch. The spontaneity took hold of me.

“Let’s do it!”

Right there, on the mock dance floor, Leo pulled out his script. The music stopped, and soon everyone crowded around us. I got hold of my parents via FaceTime, and Russ held up the phone so they could watch. Ellie put Amos on FaceTime, too. She caught him mid-burrito at Chipotle. The whole thing was the most wonderful kind of insanity.

“Do you, Mitchell Dekker, take Charles Porterfield to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

I inhaled a deep breath. Tears welled in Mitch’s eyes, his once stone face alive with feeling. Just because this was spontaneous didn’t mean he took it lightly. My throat clogged with emotion. I had never felt so loved.

“And do you, Charles Porterfield, take Mitchell Dekker to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Then, by the power vested in me by the state of New York, I pronounce you married. You may now kiss.”

And kiss we did. It was restrained and classy but still managed to give me a religious experience.

“What are you thinking?” he whispered into my ear during our first dance as a married couple.

“Well…” I leaned into his ear. “I’m jacked. According to multiple sources, I’m packing heat. I’ve got a hot-as-fuck husband and the most primo job in the world. I have to say, I’m the man.”

Mitch studied my face as he massaged my cheek. “You’remyman.”

“And you’re mine.”

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