Page 37 of Victorious, Part 2 (The LA Defiance MC #6)

CLOVER

My stare focuses on Cedar, almost begging for him to see that even though I’m nineteen, and yeah, probably a little too drunk, Phoenix is it for me.

I bite down on my bottom lip, giving him puppy dog eyes, and Cedar shakes his head, a bright smile crossing his face, and claps his hands together as if he’s moving this thing right along.

“Well…” Cedar says with a grin that’s pure mischief, “… lucky you can get married at eighteen in the state of Nevada. Otherwise, we would have had to pretend you were both twenty-one. I know a guy who could have made you both fake IDs, but that’s beside the point. Let’s have some fun.”

I knew I liked these guys!

What follows is the most beautifully chaotic hour of my life. Meadow, despite being three sheets to the wind, somehow transforms into a wedding planner extraordinaire. She disappears into the bedroom and emerges with an armload of dresses.

“You can’t get married in jeans,” she declares, holding up option after option. “This is your wedding day… well, night. Wedding night! You know what I mean.”

The dress she finally settles on is this flowing cream-colored delight that somehow manages to look both ethereal and elegant. It’s a little loose on me, but Meadow pins and tucks with the focused determination of someone who’s found their life’s purpose.

“You look like a fairy princess,” she chimes, tears already starting to form in her eyes as she steps back to admire her work. “Cedar! Come see how beautiful our bride looks,” she calls out like a proud parent.

Meanwhile, Phoenix and Cedar have apparently bonded over the shared experience of impending matrimony while drunk. I hear them in the other room, Cedar giving Phoenix what sounds like a pep talk about marriage and love and seizing the moment.

When I finally emerge from the bedroom, Phoenix’s face goes completely still. The expression that crosses his features is so intense, so full of love and wonder and pure devotion, that it nearly knocks me off my feet.

“Clover,” he softly says, and even through the alcohol haze, everything he feels is written plainly across his face. “You’re… fuck! You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Meadow immediately bursts into another river of tears. She’s clearly an emotional drunk. “This is so perfect. You two are so perfect. Cedar, look at them.”

Cedar, who’s traded his casual shirt for what appears to be the nicest button-down he packed, clasps Phoenix on the shoulder. “Kid, you’re about to marry an angel.”

“Oh, I am fully aware,” Phoenix says simply, never taking his eyes off me.

The chapel Meadow found is exactly what you’d expect from a Vegas Elvis wedding venue. Gloriously tacky and absolutely perfect. The Elvis who’s going to marry us is indeed classic Vegas Elvis, complete with the white jumpsuit and sideburns that defy physics.

As we wait for our turn, I find myself getting nervous for the first time all night. Not about marrying Phoenix, that feels as right as breathing, but about the magnitude of what we’re doing.

“Hey,” Phoenix says softly, appearing beside me. “Having second thoughts?”

“No,” I say immediately. “No second thoughts. Just, wow! We’re really doing this.”

“We really are.” He takes my hand, steadying both of us. “Any regrets?”

“Only that it took us this long to figure out we’re meant to be together forever,” I say, meaning every word.

Meadow thrusts a bouquet of fake flowers into my hands from the chapel’s gift shop, but they are beautiful in their own ridiculous way. “Every bride needs flowers,” she declares, the brightest smile lining her face, finally.

“Meadow, honey, you look beautiful,” Cedar says gently.

“Clover’s the beautiful one. And this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed. True love in Vegas with Elvis. It’s like a fairy tale, Cedar.”

He pulls her to him, a genuine smile crossing his face at seeing her so happy. Which only makes me even happier in this moment.

And then the clerk calls us up.

Phoenix leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek as he stands. “Don’t back out on me now, Reel Girl.”

Biting down on my bottom lip, I shake my head before he starts to walk into the Chapel with Cedar. “I’ll be the one walking toward you and the rest of our lives, Presley.”

He winks at me, and then he’s out of my sight.

I stand with Meadow, trying to fight those butterflies in my stomach as she tousles my hair and fluffs around with my dress. But then, suddenly, she reaches out, gripping my hand in hers, forcing me to look at her. “Stop. Stop and take it all in. Just breathe.”

I don’t know how she knew, but I close my eyes and draw in a long, deep breath. She places her hand on my chest over my heart, and I keep my eyes closed. “Just feel, Clover… is he in here?”

An overwhelming sensation rushes over me.

A sensation of warmth. Phoenix told me I was his warmth, but he is mine too.

I open my watering eyes, looking right at Meadow, trying to keep my shit together, and she simply smiles in understanding.

“Then let’s go get you married. This is so exciting!

” Meadow claps her hands together like she might physically explode from joy, looping her arm with mine as we make our way through the chapel doors.

“I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” is playing softly through the speakers, because, of course, it is.

It’s Elvis.

It’s fate.

And it’s perfect.

The aisle is only about ten steps long, but walking down it toward Phoenix feels like the longest and shortest journey of my life.

I’m not even sure if I’m walking straight.

My heart pounds in rhythm with the music, my heels are slightly unsteady thanks to the whiskey still dancing in my system, and my emotions are already one giant raw nerve.

But Phoenix, he’s standing there like he was carved from something ancient, serene, and strong, staring at me as though I hung the moon and strung the stars personally just for him.

And maybe I did.

When I reach him, he takes both my hands in his, our fingers weaving together like they’ve always known how. We’re both trembling.

Could be nerves.

Could be love.

Could be alcohol.

Probably all three.

“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 remember exactly how 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… more us .”

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 could be something 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 should never be, 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, and never let 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…

or your 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, Maverick is gonna 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.

But it’s perfect!

“You’re married,” she shrieks, launching herself at us in a glittery blur. “You actually did it. This is the most romantic, chaotic thing I’ve ever seen, and I want to live in this bubble forever.”

Cedar cracks open a bottle of Chapel brand champagne and toasts us with dramatic flair. “To the bride and groom, and to the poor bastard of a brother who’s going to find out on Instagram.”

Phoenix winces. “Maverick really is gonna skin me alive when we get back to LA.”

“He’s going to kill us both,” I remind him, laughing as we stumble back into the reception room where Meadow starts snapping photos of our rings, or, well, the motorcycle and the cactus now resting proudly on our fingers.

We take a hundred pictures. Us kissing. Us with Elvis. Us holding a bouquet of fake roses under a blinking ‘Love Me Tender’ neon sign.

Meadow keeps insisting this is history in the making.

And maybe it is.

Maybe this will be the kind of story we tell fifty years from now with grandkids at our feet and shake our heads at.

But right now, with Phoenix’s arm around me, our makeshift rings catching the Vegas lights, and our hearts beating wild and reckless in sync, I think this might just be the best decision I’ve ever made.

When we finally make it back to the Bellagio, we’re all riding high on adrenaline and champagne and the pure euphoria of what we just witnessed and participated in. The alcohol has made everything feel heightened and magical, and Cedar insists on more photographs in front of the dancing fountains.

“Wedding pictures by the fountains,” he declares, steadying himself against the railing. “This is iconic Vegas stuff right here.”

More photos, more laughing, more champagne somehow appearing from Cedar’s seemingly endless supply. By the time we make it back to their penthouse, I’m definitely feeling the full effects of everything we’ve consumed tonight.

“I can’t believe you actually did it,” Cedar says for the fourth time, refilling our glasses again.

“I can’t believe it either,” Phoenix admits, pulling me out onto the balcony, his arm around my waist like he’s afraid I might disappear if he lets me go. The alcohol has made him openly more affectionate.

“No regrets?” I ask, swaying slightly against him.

“None,” he says immediately, then pauses. “Well, maybe one.”

My heart stops. “What?”

“That the club isn’t here with us to celebrate. That Sadie and Mav aren’t here,” Phoenix says, and my stomach sinks a little at the realization that our family has missed the most important day of our lives.

My smile falters, and he notices instantly, his finger moving to my chin, lifting it to make me look at him.

“Hey, no regrets. We can do this all again back in LA. A proper wedding for the family. This one, though, this is just for you and me. This one is just ours, okay? They can’t take that away from us. ”

Leaning on my toes, I press my lips to his softly and briefly, and when I pull back, my eyes meet his. “I love you.”

His eyes sparkle as his grip around my waist tightens, his smile growing wider. “I fucking love you too.” He leans in quickly, kissing me again, then pulls back.

“We should go back to our dingy hotel room, and to our cat, to properly celebrate being married.” His meaning is clear as he waggles his eyebrows.

We all know what happens on wedding nights.

We have pretty much done everything but…

And yet, I still haven’t told my now husband that one small factor I’ve been hiding from him.

I’m still a virgin.