Page 26 of Fire Me Up (Front Range Motorcycle Collective #2)

“ I love you,” he said, as if it was just that simple, that straightforward.

W e cleaned up quickly, the post-sex glow making everything feel dreamlike and soft around the edges.

Gael insisted on wearing those ridiculous pink shorts despite my half-hearted protests.

Truth was, I liked the possessive thrill that shot through me knowing everyone would stare at him, knowing he was coming home with me.

He pulled a loose tank top over his head, the fabric hanging open at the sides in a way that showed flashes of his abs when he moved.

I couldn’t stop staring at him, couldn’t believe this Greek god of a man loved me back.

“ Ready?” Gael asked, sliding his wallet into his back pocket, which was a feat considering how tight those shorts were.

I finished pulling on my own outfit—black jeans and a purple mesh tank that showed off my tattoos. “Ready. Though Aiden’s gonna kill us for being late.”

G ael checked his phone and smirked. “Nah. He knows what’s up. We’ve got time for one stop first.”

“ Another stop? Gael, they’ve been waiting for over an hour.”

H e crossed the room and kissed me, deep and thorough, stealing my breath and my objections in one smooth move. “Trust me,” he whispered against my lips. “This is important.”

I sighed, pretending to be annoyed even as my heart raced with anticipation. “Fine. One stop.”

T he Vegas Strip blazed with light against the darkening sky as we stepped out of our hotel.

The air felt electric, charged with possibility and the collective energy of thousands of people chasing their next thrill.

Gael held my hand firmly in his as we navigated through the crowd, his thumb absently stroking my knuckles in a way that sent warmth cascading through me.

“ Where are we going?” I asked for the third time, getting a mysterious smile in response from my family. “Seriously, is this some kind of surprise strip club? Because I’m not sure I want to see you get a lap dance from some oiled-up firefighter lookalike.”

G ael laughed, the sound rich and full. “Not even close.”

H e guided me past casinos and tourist traps, weaving through crowds with purpose.

I noticed he kept checking his phone, like he was coordinating something or watching the time.

My stomach fluttered with a mixture of excitement and anxiety—after years of disappointing relationships, part of me still waited for disaster, for him to realize I wasn’t what he wanted after all.

W e turned onto a quieter side street, and Gael stopped in front of a solid, unremarkable brick building. I looked up at the sign and froze, my heart stuttering in my chest.

M ARRIAGE LICENSE BUREAU.

“ Gael?” My voice came out strangled, barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears.

H e turned to face me, his expression shifting from playful to vulnerable in a way that made my chest ache. “I know it’s fast,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “But I want to marry you.”

I stared at him, unable to form words as he pulled out a small velvet box from the back pocket of his tiny shorts. He flipped it open, revealing two matching rings nestled inside—sleek tungsten bands with a thin purple line running through the center.

“ Here? Now?”

H e chuckled, glancing behind him as his cheeks turned pink. “I can see now how that was confusing. I just thought it’d be a romantic place to propose.”

“ Ah.”

“ Oh my god. Dylan, you’re killing me. Marry me?

” Gael asked, his voice steady despite the uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

“I meant what I said before. I want everything with you, Dylan. I don’t want to waste another day without you being officially mine.

We can plan any type of wedding you want.

Take our time or elope. I mean, as long as you say yes. ”

I felt tears burning behind my eyes, joy exploding in my chest so intense it was almost painful. I flung myself at him, nearly knocking the box from his hands as I crashed my lips against his. He caught me, steadying us both as he always did, laughing against my mouth.

“ Is that a yes?” he asked when we broke apart, both breathless.

“ Fuck yes.” I kissed him again, hard and desperate, pouring every ounce of love I felt into it. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”

G ael’s smile could have lit up the entire strip. He took my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm before tugging me toward the entrance. “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Okay! We’re getting married!”

A few people glanced our way.

G ael’s cheeks went pinker. “Not immediately,” he told the bystanders. “Like in a few months or something. Again, I see how this was a confusing choice of a proposal location. I just thought it would look cool in the social media photos.”

“ What if we did it right now?” I whispered, looking up at him. “I mean, we’re in Vegas. They do that, right? And your sisters are here, my brother. The FRMC guys. It’ll be a whole party.”

“ What?” Gael asked, eyes widening.

I kissed him again. “I don’t want to spend another minute not married to the man I love.”

H is cheeks turned even pinker as he gathered me close and kissed me back, his intensity matching mine. Then he pulled back, his eyes scanning my face. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this!”

“ Holy shit. We’re getting married?”

“ We’re getting married!” he said, beaming down at me.

T he reality of the Marriage License Bureau hit us like a bucket of cold water.

The interior was fluorescent-lit and institutional, with all the romance of a DMV.

A long line of couples snaked through the room—tourists in flashy clothes, locals in casual wear, everyone with the same mix of excitement and impatience on their faces.

“ Well, this is anticlimactic,” I said as we took our place at the end of the line.

G ael squeezed my hand. “Worth the wait.”

I leaned against him, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions. We were getting married. Me, Dylan Kim, the guy everyone said was too much, too intense, too needy—I’d found someone who wanted me forever. The thought was so overwhelming I could barely breathe.

“ Hey.” Gael tilted my chin up, searching my face. “You having second thoughts?”

“ No,” I said quickly, honestly. “Just... processing. This is real, right? You really want this? Want me? Forever?”

H e threaded our fingers together, his gaze so steady and sure it anchored me. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. I’m crazy about you, Dylan. Every chaotic, beautiful part of you.”

T he certainty in his voice, the unwavering love in his eyes—it filled all the cracks and empty spaces inside me I’d been trying to patch for years.

I opened my mouth to tell him this, to pour my heart out right there in the sterile government office, when a familiar voice cut through the background noise.

I t was messy and imperfect and completely, utterly us.

“ I love you,” I told him, not caring who heard or saw. “So fucking much.”

G ael’s smile softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that made my heart flip. “Good thing you’re marrying me, then.”

T he line inched forward, and I tucked myself against Gael’s side, my head resting on his shoulder. For once in my life, I didn’t feel too much or too intense or too anything. I just felt right where I belonged.