Aflame (Fall Away #4) (23 page)

A chill spread over my skin, despite the hoodie, and I didn’t hesitate to barrel around the next turn, charging ahead.

I didn’t want to win or need to win, but I wanted to have this with him.

My music cut off, and my phone started ringing on the touch screen. I pressed Accept Call.

“Yes?” I answered.

“What happens if I win?” Jared asked, and his velvet voice caressed my skin.

I hesitated, not sure how to answer. “Then . . .” I searched for words. “Then I guess I trust that you’ll always give me your best.”

He was quiet, and I could hear the crowd ahead.

“And if I lose?” he asked, sounding unusually sad. “Will you still trust that I gave you my best?”

A lump rose in my throat, and I blinked away the sudden tears.

“Jared.” I folded my lips between my teeth, trying not to cry. He wanted to know if I trusted him.

“I can’t promise I’ll wake up every day operating at a hundred percent, Tate,” he admitted. “No one can.”

I heard his voice change as he struggled to round the last turn, and I shifted down, doing the same, the steering wheel trying to pull against me as I skidded.

“But”—he breathed hard from the exertion—“I can promise I’ll always put you first.”

“Then, prove it,” I urged in a thoughtful voice. “Meet my match.”

I shot down into fifth and then up into sixth, seeing his lights ahead.

This was it. One of us was going between the barriers, and the other would be forced to take the lane to the outside, and he was fucking with my head right now, and I just wanted him to race.

“Tate . . . ,” he said in a hesitant voice.

“Jared, just go,” I pressed. “It’s you. It’s only you. You’re the only one who challenges me, so challenge me! Don’t hold back. I trust you.”

I squeezed the wheel, my eyebrows pinching together as I pressed myself back into the seat.

Go, go, go . . .

Shooting for the starting line, I pushed the gas to the floor, seeing him charge ahead, both of us in the path marked by the barriers.

“Tate!” he barked.

“Go!” I yelled.

Jax had lines marked on the track, giving drivers notice for their last chance to exit, but judging my space, I knew I was going to make it.

I was going to make it, and I didn’t want Jared to ease up.
Give me everything!

I held the wheel, my arm like a steel bar, and sucked in breaths as my heart beat like a jackhammer.

“Fuck!” Jared cursed, barreling straight for me. “Tate, stop!”

His car, my car, one lane, right for each other, the barriers in three . . . two . . . one . . . and . . .

No!

I screamed, twisting the wheel right, every muscle in my body in a nightmare of pain as I swerved out of his way and passed the barriers, nearly whimpering out of fear as I winced.

Oh, God!

I let breath after breath pour out of me as I took quick glances behind me several times to see that he was on the other side of the barriers, too.

He’d tapped out. Just like me.

Shit.
I dropped my head back, terrified by what had almost happened, as I slowed to halt.

Shaking my head, horrified and relieved at the same time, I realized the irony.

He’d put me first. Just like he’d promised.

The crowd descended, and I climbed out of my car, feeling shaky and weak.

“You’re absolutely crazy!” I heard him yell as he made his way through the crowd. “Does Stanford know how reckless you are?” he attacked.

I straightened but averted my eyes, feeling a little contrite. He had every right to be pissed. I’d messed with his head, telling him to give me his very best, which would also put both of us in danger. Which choice had I expected him to make? But before I had a chance to apologize, he threw a small box at me. “Here.”

I shot up my hands to catch it.

“Open that,” he ordered.

I studied the cylindrical black leather box and immediately knew what it was.

He stayed a few feet back, but the crowd surrounded us, and I saw our friends push to the front of the audience.

I did as he said and opened it, revealing the platinum band, the princess-cut diamond that had been meant for me. Gasps exploded in the crowd and even some squeals, probably from the high school girls who thought his rudeness was cute.

I twisted my lips to the side, taking in his angry arched eyebrow.

“So this is how you propose?” I asked sternly. “Because I kind of have a problem with a ring being thrown in my face and you not kneeling like my father would expect.”

I looked at Jax and a laughing Madoc and continued, “Not that I expected Jared to kneel—I know he’s not the type—but I damn well expect a gesture, and—”

I looked down, seeing Jared in front of me on one knee.

“Oh,” I whispered, shutting up.

Snorts could be heard in the crowd, and I let him take my hand as he smiled up at me.

My heart pounded, and butterflies swarmed in my stomach.

“Tate.” He spoke slowly, looking into my eyes in a way that was still so much like the boy I grew up with but more like the man I’d grown to love.

“You’re written all over my body,” he spoke low, just for us. “The tattoos can never be erased. You hold my heart, and you can never be replaced.”

I pressed my lips together, trying to stay composed.

He continued, “I only live when I’m with you, and I’m asking for your heart, your love, and your future.” He smiled. “Will you please be my wife?”

My chin trembled, and my chest shook, and I couldn’t help it. I covered my smile with my hand and let the tears fall.

The crowd around us started cheering, and I caressed his face as he stood up and lifted me up off the ground.

“Now, that’s how you propose,” I joked through my shakes.

“You going to answer me, then?”

I laughed. “Yes.” I nodded frantically. “Yes, I would love to marry you.”

***

After the Loop, we escaped.

Just the two of us to Mario’s for a late dinner and then home. I couldn’t stop the flutter in my chest.

I think it was the happiest day I’d ever had.

Jared had slipped the ring on my finger and held me close, tucked under his chin as we called my father on Skype with his phone.

Apparently, he’d asked my dad a year and a half ago, and true to fashion, my father didn’t share business that wasn’t his to share or interfere in situations he knew needed to play out. We also found out that was why he’d never accepted other offers on the house. He knew Jared would come home eventually.

I looked up at Jared, resting my head on his arm behind me. “I’m sorry about the tree,” I said, feeling bad as we sat in the middle of it, me between his legs and lying back against his chest.

“I know.” His voice was gentle. “It’ll heal. Everything does with time.”

Looking down, I studied the ring, feeling its happy weight on my finger. There were still lots of things to work out—living arrangements while I went to school, his career—but it was small potatoes considering what we’d survived to be together. Two assurances I had come to realize about life: Almost nothing turns out exactly the way you plan, but I’d be happy only if he was by my side. There was no choice.

“If you don’t like it, we can exchange it,” he spoke up, seeing me admire the ring.

“No, I love it,” I assured him. “It’s perfect.” And then I smiled. “My new lifeline.”

Jared snorted, remembering my lifelines from high school. The things I always made sure to have on me when I went out, just in case I needed to escape him.

He leaned in, kissing my hair. “I don’t want to wait to marry you,” he whispered, and I nuzzled into him, loving him so much.

I didn’t want to wait, either.

Jared

Three Months Later

“Knock it off.” I jerked away from Madoc’s hands as he fiddled with my tie.

“But it’s crooked,” he argued, yanking me back. “And it looks like shit.”

I gave in, standing still and trying not to feel creeped out as another guy straightened my necktie.

My entire suit was black, of course, but I’d added a vest for extra effect.

Madoc leaned in, his mouth inches from mine. “Mmmm, you smell good,” he purred.

I jerked back, wincing. “Get off me,” I grumbled, shoving him away, and he hunched over, his face turning red from laughing so hard.

Jax hurried over to my side, smiling. “She’s here.”

I grinned but then hid it right away. Grabbing the back of my neck, I put my head down and tried to get my pulse under control. Hell, get my temperature under control, for that matter. I felt sweat on my back, even though it was late September and the weather had started cooling off already.

I looked around the pond—our fishpond—and focused on the small man-made waterfall display with little rapids cascading down the rocks, and I remembered her here when we were little.

This was where I’d thought I lost her when I was fourteen, so as a measure to make sure that no bad memory ever controlled us again, we both agreed that this was where we’d be married.

This was the start of new memories and new adventures.

Jason and Ciaran, Fallon’s father who had employed my brother for a time and become part of the family in a way, stood off to the side, chatting casually—which was surprising, considering they worked on opposite sides of the law. My mom—glowing and with newfound energy—sat on a ledge, holding Quinn in her arms, while Pasha stood next to the pond’s edge dressed in a tight silver and black dress, standing out like a sore thumb.

Lucas, Madoc’s “little brother”, played on his phone, while Lucas’s mom and Miss Penley—or Lizzy, as we were allowed to call her now, but I refused, because it was weird—cooed over my new little sister.

James, Tate’s dad, and his new fiancée had bought a house between Chicago and Shelburne Falls, an easy commute that wouldn’t disrupt either of their jobs. They were planning a summer ceremony next year.

Juliet, Fallon, and James were all with Tate, I assumed, and Madoc and Jax were standing up for me.

“You know, you didn’t have to do this,” Madoc spoke up, straightening his own tie. “Jax is your brother. It would make sense that he’d stand up for you at your wedding.”

I saw the officiant approach and pointed out to Madoc, “You’re my brother, too. I can’t choose between either of you any more than Tate could choose between Fallon and Juliet.”

When we’d had to tell the officiant the names of my best man and her maid—or matron of honor, we didn’t second-guess ourselves. Fallon and Juliet for her, Jax and Madoc for me.

“You know we could’ve just had this at my house,” he suggested. “There’s plenty of room on the grounds, and you wouldn’t have had to limit the guest list.”

“We limited it out of preference,” I corrected him, “not necessity. Tate and I wanted small and private,” I told him, knowing he preferred big and flashy. “And we wanted it here,” I added.

“Okay.” He dropped the subject, accepting my reasoning. And I knew he understood.

Although Madoc had had an impromptu wedding at a bar, I don’t think he regretted it for a second. He loved Fallon, and they had just wanted to get married. The rest didn’t matter.

Tate and I waited a little longer than he and Fallon did, but not by much.

We’d spent the rest of the summer between Shelburne Falls—relaxing with our friends and enjoying our family—and California, looking for an apartment near Stanford and spending time at my shop.

Once school started, Tate got settled in as I commuted home to her as much as possible. The wedding date and details here were already set, so all we had to do was fly in and then fly out.

For Christmas, we were spending a week here with family and then a week locked in a cabin in Colorado for a delayed honeymoon. Tate had it in her head that we’d ski.

Yeah, no.

Just the thought of her walking around a cozy cabin dressed in nothing but a long sweater that showed off her beautiful legs in the firelight . . .

I might ski. If she was really nice.

After the ceremony today, we were having a small, private dinner and then going home to our house; we were already having fun planning what to renovate whenever we were able to make it home in the future.

“You didn’t invite a shitload of people to your house for a party tonight, did you?” I shot Madoc a knowing look. He loved parties and looked for any excuse to have one.

But he looked insulted. “Of course not,” he answered and then jerked his chin, standing up straight. “Here we go, dude.”

I turned my head, hearing the music start, and suddenly my pulse starting raging—pumping like a machine gun under my skin—and I focused on the path next to the rocks. Where I knew she was coming from.

Four cello players sat above us on a rock landing, playing Apocalyptica’s rendition of “Nothing Else Matters,” and everything hurt as I looked around. In a good way, I guess. I just wanted to see her so badly.

Juliet came first, dressed in a light pink, knee-length dress, her hair spilling around her, and I heard my brother’s sharp intake of breath. Her small baby bump was visible under her high-waisted dress, but she looked great, having gotten over the morning sickness.

Fallon trailed behind her in a gray dress similar to Juliet’s, her hair in long curls, and I caught her wink at Madoc before coming to stand next to Juliet on the other side of the officiant.

I darted my eyes over to the rocks again, keeping them glued there. I hadn’t seen Tate in more than twenty-four hours because our friends had decided that keeping us separate would make the wedding day more special. But I couldn’t wait anymore.

I’d waited for years.

She appeared, arm in arm with her dad, and I smiled, locking eyes with her.

“She’s beautiful,” I heard Madoc say.

I blew out a slow breath, feeling my eyes burn as my throat tightened.

I blinked away the tears and clenched my jaw, trying everything to keep myself steady.

“Just look at her, okay?” Jax whispered. “Hold her eyes, and you’ll be fine.”

I swallowed the needles in my throat and looked up at her again, seeing the joy and peace all over her face.

Why did I feel like I was in pain?

She’d never looked more beautiful.

Her strapless dress had a sweetheart neckline—don’t ask how I knew that shit now—that featured glimmering jewels on the bodice that brought out the glow in the smooth skin of her neck and arms. The bottom of the antique white dress was tulle that held layer upon layer all the way to the ground, and even though the dress was beautiful, I didn’t care about every little feature. All I knew was that she broke my heart looking like a dream that was all mine.

Her hair hung perfect in loose curls, and she wore light makeup enhancing every bit of her. Looking down, I saw white Chucks peek out of the dress as she walked, and I couldn’t help but laugh to myself.

She stepped up, not taking her eyes off of me as her dad kissed her cheek and handed her over.

I knew it wasn’t a politically correct practice anymore—fathers handing responsibility for a daughter’s care over to a man—but it meant something to me.

And I never doubted that she’d take care of me just as much as I did her.

I clasped her hand in mine and felt James’s hand grip my arm reassuringly before he stepped aside.

I looked up at the officiant, nodding at him to get going.

“Can you hurry up?” I urged, hearing Madoc and Jax laugh at my side.

I didn’t mean to be rude, but Tate was like a meal I was being forced to stare at as I starved.

The dude smiled and opened his folder to begin.

I looked down at Tate, barely hearing his words. “I love you,” I whispered.

I love you, too,
she mouthed, smiling.

The people around us listened to the officiant’s short speech about love and communication, trust and tolerance, but I didn’t take my eyes off Tate for a single second.

It’s not that we didn’t need to listen. We knew we didn’t know everything, and we knew we were going to fight. We’d learned too many lessons the hard way to take for granted how far we’d come.

But I couldn’t not look at her. It was too perfect a day.

The officiant passed it off to me as Jax handed him the rings, and he handed me Tate’s.

I put in on her finger, sliding it only halfway as I spoke only to her.

“As my friend, I liked you,” I whispered. “As my enemy, I craved you. As a fighter, I loved you, and as my wife”—I slid the ring the rest of the way on—“I keep you.” I squeezed her hand. “Forever,” I promised.

Silent tears spilled down her cheeks, and she smiled, even though her chest shook. Taking my ring from the man’s hand, she slipped it on my finger.

“When you left me the first time, I was devastated,” she said, speaking of when we were fourteen. “And when you left me the second time, I was defiant. But both times I regret,” she admitted, keeping her voice low. “I always fought with you instead of fighting for you, and if I commit to doing one thing differently for the rest of our lives, Jared”—she inhaled a deep breath, steadying her voice—“it would be to make sure you always know that I will fight for you.” She blinked, sending more tears down her cheeks. “Forever.”

I knew it without needing to hear her say it, but it still felt good to hear. Being a kid was hard. Being a kid with no one to count on changed my life. And hers. She knew how much I needed her.

I saved the officiant the trouble and took the back of her neck in my hand before pulling her in for a kiss.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pressed her body into mine and kissed my wife for almost longer than necessary, getting lost in her taste and scent, before pulling back slightly to lean my forehead into hers.

Laughter and snickers erupted around us, but I didn’t care. I’d waited long enough, in my opinion.

After the ceremony, Madoc slapped me on the shoulder as we all trailed toward the cars. “I’ll lead,” he instructed, meaning what, I didn’t know.

We had a lot of cars between us all, but I saw no reason to make a parade.

But whatever.

Climbing in the black limo behind Tate, I closed the door and instructed the driver to follow the GTO. He then closed the privacy glass, and I wasted no time hauling Tate into my lap.

I bunched up the dress to allow her legs to straddle me, and the poor girl sank into a cloud like it was a patch of quicksand. I saw just her face.

“I really love this dress”—I slid my hands up her silky thighs—“but it’s a pain in the ass.”

I took her hips in my hands and pulled her in for a kiss, not caring that she was messing up my hair, which my mother had made me style to perfection today.

The limo took off, following the GTO and trailed by everyone else.

“Our wedding turned me on,” I admitted, slipping my hand inside her underwear. “Will you let me get to third base right now?” I teased.

She nuzzled into my neck, kissing and playing, and—I closed my eyes, groaning—
fuck dinner
. We needed a room.

But horns sounded outside, and Tate sat up, peering out the window.

“What the hell?” she breathed out, sliding off my lap.

I winced, my cock stretching painfully against my pants.

Looking out the window, I immediately rolled it down, seeing the city street littered with all of our friends. All of them not invited to the ceremony, because it was family only.

What?
Horns honked, people whistled, and I even noticed a few of Tate’s old track teammates clapping.

Although it was a surprise, it was kind of touching to see the people we’d grown up with sharing this.

“Oh, he did not . . . ,” Tate seethed, thinking the exact same thing I was.

Madoc.

He’d told everybody.

And speak of the devil.
I leaned out the window, seeing that Madoc had done a U-turn and cruised past us, grinning from ear to ear.

“I lied,” he admitted, all too proud of himself. “Huge fucking party at my house.” And he sped off laughing.

Tate’s wide eyes met mine, and she shook her head, amazed.

All of these people were going to be there, apparently.

I rolled up the window, and Tate slid back onto my lap, sighing.

“He’s got rooms,” she taunted over my mouth, looking at the bright side. “Lots of rooms for us to get lost in.”

And I leaned up, grabbing her lips with mine as I shucked off my jacket. “Who needs a room?”