Becoming His (48 page)

“But she’s twenty!”

“And she feels ready, and that’s what’s important.”

“I don’t know, I think that rushing into marriage is partly why our divorce rate is so high in the U.S. I mean if people would just slow down, maybe it wouldn’t be so high.”

“You’re right, it is high, and I agree that marriage isn’t something people should rush into, but those two haven’t spent a single day apart from each other since August. I know that isn’t years, but I think they have a pretty good idea as to what they’re getting themselves into.”

“I hope so. I think it’s kind of crazy because I can’t even commit to a freaking major and they’re getting married, but you’re right, they do seem to love each other a lot.” I let out another breath and nestle closer to Max. I wrap my arm around his bare waist and press my cheek to his warm chest, breathing in my favorite scent as I fall asleep.

T
he wedding is perfect. It screams of Abby with small feminine details, and yet is fast and a bit loud, just like her. I’d initially feared that she was planning to elope, and in some ways I suppose they do because it’s only twenty-five of her family members that come, as opposed to the four hundred or so people she assures me would have come had they planned a wedding with more notice. Max and I join Jesse’s brother, his only relative, on Jesse’s side of the small chapel.

“L
et’s do something crazy!” Max says with a large grin as we make our way through The Bellagio, looking at all the different sights. I still have Kendall’s ID, but I hadn’t realized how thorough they are when you cash out your chips, and my desire to not be arrested is marginally larger than my desire to gamble … by a lot.

“What kind of crazy?” I ask, stepping aside as a large group of guys walks by, holding large drinks with twisty straws. All of them are bare chested and in swim shorts and hats, making no effort to hide the fact that they’re checking me out even though I’m holding Max’s hand.

“I’m about to tattoo ‘his’ to your forehead,” Max jokes, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against his chest.

“That’s perfect!” I cry. “Ready for a permanent dose of crazy?” I ask, looking at our entwined hands. Max raises his eyebrows and then gives me a single nod, and I lead him down the street, through the crowds of people until I reach the destination we’d passed when we arrived.

“This might hurt like hell,” the older man covered in tattoos warns.

I shrug and splay my fingers as I lay my hand on the arm of the chair. Max had insisted he go first so I had more time to think about it, but I refused and eventually he gave up and let me go first.

The tattoo is relatively quick and thankfully has no shading, because this makes my side tattoo feel like a joke. When the gun turns off, I look down at my ring finger where it now reads ‘His’ on the side facing my pinky in Max’s handwriting.

“I love it!” I sigh, keeping my eyes glued to the small ink that represents such a large piece of me. So much truth is in that single word. I’ve become his.

“She’s one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. You may need to make this claim a bit more obvious,” the tattoo artist says while getting out clean supplies for Max’s tattoo.

“I’m twenty,” I interject.

“Yeah, what are you folks doing in Vegas?”

“My best friend got married.”

“Oh yeah, how old’s she?” I look up from my tattoo and study his bright blue eyes that assure me I won’t win this argument. I stand up so Max can take my seat, hoping he’ll just drop it.

Max reaches out with his right hand and grips my left, staring at my new tattoo as his thumb travels over the back of my hand.

I keep my eyes focused on Max’s skin, watching as ink injects the small space of olive-toned skin to now reflect the prominent, but small word ‘Hers’ written in my handwriting on his left ring finger, against his pinky, just like mine.

“I love you, Ace,” Max says quietly. I look up from his fingers to see him watching me intently and my smile stretches even wider.

“That’s good, because you now permanently have a piece of me.”

“I already told you, I want every last one.” He pulls me between his legs and presses his lips to mine, making my knees weaken. I lean into him and fist his shirt in my hands in an attempt to get closer to him.

Hoots and whistles echo around us. I ignore the reminder that we’re in public as I kiss Max a moment longer. As we separate, we share a long look as the impact of what we’ve just done seems to resonate within us.

“Don’t worry about it. Consider it my gift to you guys on the day you told the world you belonged together,” the man says, waving us away as Max pulls out his wallet.

Max slides a bill toward the man. “Consider this our thank you card,” he says with a smile.

“What do you want to do tonight?” I ask Max as the scenery fills with bright lights and scantily-clad women that make no issues about checking Max out.

He lifts my left hand that now has a small bandage secured around my ring finger and brings it to his lips and kisses it. “Go to our hotel room and make you mine.” His eyes are intense and seductive as we mill through the crowded streets.

“I already am yours.”

He smiles digging his fingers into his side. “Show me.”

W
hen we return from Vegas time seems to speed up and slip away, like it has a habit of doing as we get back into the routine of classes. Abby moves out of our apartment and in with Jesse, which makes the apartment feel empty and hollow, so I spend even more time at Max’s.

S
pring break arrives and Kendall, Shelby, and I board the large ship that will be our address for the next five days. I’d been reluctant to go on the cruise, partly because the idea of being on a boat, surrounded by water—really, really deep water that we aren’t made to survive in—haunts my nightmares. My even bigger deterrent to going is leaving Max for five days, as lame and dependent as that sounds. The latter however, is actually the reason I finally gave in and decided I’d go. The fact that I was allowing my relationship to affect my decisions freaked me out; no other person has ever affected me the same way Max has. The fact of the matter is it scares the hell out of me. I’ve officially stalked, done crazy, been jealous, craved, and felt insane. It has me starting to slowly ask myself if Max is my other half? My soul mate, according to my own algorithm.

We board and receive an introduction and tour before we’re escorted to our room. Three girls in one room hadn’t seemed all that daunting to me when we were planning the trip, I’ve been on multiple trips to Texas in the back of a minivan with my four older sisters, cramped for space and fighting over whose turn it was to pick the radio station, which direction the air vents blew, and who was crossing who’s invisible boundary lines; I knew this would be a cake walk compared to those two-day road trips.

“Alright, I say we get our nails done and then spend some time at the pool,” Shelby says, opening her suitcase and pulling out a tangle of swimsuit pieces.

My mind immediately travels to Max, wondering what he’s doing right now. I pick up my phone to send a text before we leave, not certain how far out we’ll have coverage.

Me: We made it! There’s an awful lot of water ;) love you!

Max: I already miss u. I love u babe.

Me too
. His words hit me squarely in the chest, and I feel both elated and homesick at the same time, wishing I could feel Max beside me.

Me: You’ll be having way too much fun to miss me. We’re about to leave the port. I’ll see you Saturday, xoxoxoxoxo LOVE YOU!

Max: Not possible. Have fun! I’ll b counting down the hours til Sat.

“No more lover boy. Let’s go.” Shelby whines. Her tone sends a small fissure of annoyance through me that I work to suppress as I follow them through the maze of doors and stairs until we reach the mall.

My fingernails and toenails glow bright pink—Feisty Flamingo Pink. Kendall seems aware of my tension and orders three Sex on the Beaches, a drink with a horrible name, but delicious taste. The combination of the vodka and my pink nails improves my mood significantly. I’m even joining in the conversation and listening to the itinerary of events, feeling excited for the first time about this trip.

We head out to the pool and I claim a chair under a large umbrella and crack open one of the two books I’d brought along.

After dinner we return to the pool area where Shelby tirelessly flirts with a guy that looks old enough to be our father, possibly grandfather. I try to not roll my eyes as she giggles for the thousandth time.

“Gosh, I’m feeling exhausted.” Kendall sighs, running a hand through her blond waves. “Shelby, we’re going to go head down to the deck, and hang out a while.”

Shelby hardly acknowledges our departure, and I wonder if it’ll be just Kendall and I in the room tonight.

“How are you feeling out here?”

I look out over the railing only fifteen feet away from the stretch of black that is the Pacific Ocean and give her a half smile, shaking my head. “It’s a little overwhelming.”

Kendall smiles warmly and reaches forward to rest her hand on mine. She lifts her chin to look out into the abyss. The setting sun sends warm orange shadows across her face, and I lean back and watch her. My sister who is so beautiful suddenly looks so womanly. How did this happen? Where did time go? It seems like it was only yesterday that we were trampling around the house in Mom’s high heels five sizes too big for us, decked out with all of our
Pretty Pretty Princess
bling.

“Are you sad Max isn’t here?” Her question brings me out of my nostalgic mental home video, and I look over to see her crystal blue eyes staring back at me.

I give a small smile then move my hand so I hold hers. “A little,” I admit. “But I’m really glad I’m here with you. I was just thinking how crazy it is that we’re in our twenties now.”

“I know. Mindi is about to be thirty!”

“Yeah, but she’s always been old.”

Kendall throws her head back and laughs, squeezing my hand. “She’d kill you!”

“Why do you think I waited to say it until we were out in the middle of the ocean?”

Kendall laughs again, leaning her head forward on my shoulder. When her laugh quiets, she leaves her head resting against mine and reaches around me with both arms.

“So did Max tell you?”

“Tell me what?” I ask, watching as the sun lowers further into the ocean.

“I’m going to move into the house at the beginning of the summer.” I feel my eyebrows rise as I turn to look at her, and she nods at my silent question.

“I’m going to have to teach Landon how to do his laundry.” Kendall grins at me. “But I think we’re ready for this. I’m sure you think we’re moving a little fast, but I really love him, and I want to be with him. I think it will be a good step toward knowing what will come of our relationship.”

I nod a few times, trying to sort my words. “As long as you’re happy.” I study her face as it brightens into a smile, as though my blessing means something significant.