Page 60 of Wild Hit
My eyes narrow at him as Lucky and I approach, and Miguel tilts his head with some confusion.
Lucky deposits me right in front of Miguel, and the officiant between us starts talking. I can’t focus for shit, especially when Miguel’s lips are moving without making any sound.
You okay?
I return a tiny nod.
Miguel offers a hand and I take it. I need all the anchoring I can get. This freaking guy starts to guide me through breathing exercises as the officiant keeps delivering the ceremonial speech. My, er, groom’s attention goes to our joined hands and I realize that I’m squeezing his to death. He runs his thumb across my knuckles and the most curious thing happens.
I actually calm down.
“And now, the vows,” the officiant says.
A long pause happens.
I also forgot that vows are a thing at weddings.
Miguel does the thumb-knuckle thing again, and his full lips stretch into an amused smile. “I’ll be your rock,” he says, all confident and relaxed. And adds nothing else.
The officiant blinks owlishly at him, and then turns to me in expectation.
Doubt flashes through my mind just one time. What I’m about to say is probably the most absurd vow this woman has heard, even accounting for the drunk marriages.
“And I’ll be your hard place,” I return.
Miguel chokes back a laugh. My lips twitch, and our composure shatters into unhinged giggles. It makes sense that a sham wedding should have crappy vows. Neither of us will forget that.
The officiant clears her throat and continues onto the last part of the ceremony. Meanwhile, Miguel and I are still fightingto stay serious, and for the first time all night I’m not freaking out. The fog in my head clears. I’m no longer strangling his hand.
“You may kiss the bride now.”
Never mind, my heart leaps in my throat.
Someone taps my arm and I half turn. Hope takes my bouquet and I automatically move back to the front. More flashes go off, and they’re almost blinding.
Miguel takes a step closer and gently holds the ends of my veil. I watch transfixed, as if this was a very interesting movie that’s happening behind a screen.
And then the veil is off. The cameras flash even faster. I blink almost violently between the lights and the fact that Miguel is bringing me closer, just like he did at the nightclub.
One of his hands circles my waist until his arm is around me, and I’m flush against him. It’s a jolt to the system—I can’t remember the last time I was held by a guy. I don’t think any of them ever did it so tenderly.
Wait, his other hand is cradling my jaw.
How?Why?
We’re not supposed to kiss.
I can’t unglue my lips to speak. Not when Miguel is looking at them like they’re the most interesting thing in the entire world.
Oh, gosh. Are they chapped? I didn’t think of fixing my lip oil. Is it gonna smear all over him? Argh, where’s the pause button?
Then he twirls me gingerly, putting his back between the cameras and I. He comes closer still and I swallow hard. His breath fans my face, revealing that he popped some mints before this. How kind. How nerve wracking.
I start lowering my eyelids and then he touches my lips?—
With his thumb.
The same one that soothed my knuckles earlier.
