Page 91 of Victorious: Part 2
“Dearly beloved…” Elvis begins in that deep, surprisingly reverent voice. “We are gathered here tonight in the presence of the King to join these two wild souls in holy matrimony.”
My breath catches.Holy Matrimony.
Oh my God, we’re actually doing this.
“Do you have rings?” Elvis asks.
Phoenix clears his throat, looking slightly sheepish as he pulls something from his pocket. “Sort of?”
He opens his palm, showing me two keychains.
One is shaped like a miniature motorcycle. The other, a tiny green cactus that looks as if it’s waving.
“Okay, before you judge me…” he says quickly, “… this was all I could find last minute at the gift shop by the slot machines. They’ll work for now. We’ll get real rings later, but I figured this way, we’ll always rememberexactlyhow impulsive and ridiculous this night was.”
I burst out laughing, tears pricking my eyes. “I love it. It’s so us.”
He grins. “It’s either this… or I makeshift them from cable ties. I thought this was like you said… moreus.”
Smiling at him, I think I just fell even more in love with him, if that’s even possible. “They’re perfect,” I reply happily.
Elvis chuckles like he’s seen it all before. “All right then. Do you have vows, or shall we go with the King’s standard?”
“Vows,” Phoenix states, his voice suddenly rougher, as if he’s sobering right in front of me. “I want to say vows.”
“Well, all righty then, take it away,” Elvis says in his deep southern drawl.
Phoenix takes a deep breath and turns fully toward me, the cheap rhinestones from Elvis’s jacket reflecting in his eyes as if the universe itself is watching. “Clover, I never believed in happy endings. I thought I was born broken, raised to survive, never to hope. But then you crashed into my life with your camera and chaos and your fierce, impossible heart, and somehow you made me believe that maybe I could have something good. That I couldbesomething good.”
My throat tightens as he continues, “You made the road feel like home. Even with the diabetes meltdowns and the sand in places it shouldneverbe, you made it all magic.”
I can’t help but let out a small giggle.
He tightens his hands in mine and continues, “I promise to keep chasing this feeling with you, even when it’s hard, even when it’s terrifying. I promise to love you loud, protect you fierce, andneverlet a single day pass where you doubt just how much you matter.” He swallows hard. “I love you. And I’m not afraid to say it in front of Elvis…oryour brother, when we see him again.”
Jesus! That would have been hard for him to say.
And I love him for saying it.
Wiping at my eyes, I step closer, sliding my hands up to cradle his face. “Phoenix…Wes, you walked into my life when I didn’t even know how lost I was. You challenged me, protected me, drove me crazy, and then loved me anyway.” I smile through my tears. “You stood beside me in the Mojave, literally chased after me, and jumped onto a moving truck to catch me. Didn’t flinch when my blood sugar dropped, and made me laugh when all I wanted to do was scream. You’ve seen me at my worst, and somehow, you still look at me like I’m the best damn thing you’ve ever seen.”
A sob catches in my throat. “And yeah, this is wild and impulsive and borderline reckless, but so are we. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. I promise to love you through every desert detour, every club crisis, every fight with my overprotective brother, and yes, Maverickisgonna lose his shit. But I choose this. I choose you.Tonight. Tomorrow. Always. And don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Maverick.”
Phoenix chuckles, pulling me closer to him as Cedar and Meadow continue to take photos behind us.
“Well, then…” Elvis announces, “… by the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada and the eternal rhythm of rock ‘n’ roll, I now pronounce you, all shook up, and husband and wife.” Elvis grins. “You may kiss your bride, son.”
Phoenix doesn’t hesitate. He pulls me into a kiss that steals every last ounce of air from my lungs. It’s messy, passionate, and even though we’re drunk, it’s so goddamn real. His hands slide into my hair, anchoring me against him like he’s afraid I might disappear, and I kiss him back with everything I have.
It tastes like promises.
Like love.
Like fate wearing rhinestones and a cape.
The camera flashes go off in the background, Cedar capturing everything like some sentimental paparazzo, and when we finally break apart, Meadow screams as though we just won an Oscar.
It’s messy, and utterly fucking crazy.
