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“That’s what I said.” I nudge her arm. “All the weddings in Vegas are for show. It doesn’t count unless you register at Town Hall and get an official marriage license.
“If you say so.” She takes the ring and laughs while Fake Elvis continues in what must be the worst Elvis impersonation I’ve ever witnessed.
“Repeat after me.” Fake Elvis leads us through our fake vows.
This might not be a legally binding ceremony, but there’s something special about this moment—something that feels real.
“And now, by the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada—or maybe it’s just my fantastic hair—I now pronounce you husbands and wives.” Fake Elvis’s announcement is accompanied by a round of applause and cheers from the gathered crowd.
I turn to Barbi, who is now wearing the fake ring on her finger. She smiles at me in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. “How’s that for spontaneous?”
“Definitely spontaneous.” Her soft laughter fills me with joy.
“Hey!” One of the new couples call out to those of us gathered. “The party is just starting. Join us for drinks, drinks, and more drinks.”
I glance at Barbi and shrug. “What do you say?”
“Why not?” Her excitement is infectious. I take her hand in mine, and we follow the young couples out of the chapel and back into the bright lights of Vegas.
The rest of the night is a blur. We drink at one bar, follow the group to the next where we drink more. But eventually, the drinks get the better of us. Barbi slurs her words and can barely walk straight. I’m not too far behind her. Ready to call it a night, I pull Barbi aside and whisper into her ear.
“Do you want to ditch the newlyweds?”
“Lead the way.” Her smile makes my heart pound.
Hand in hand, we walk down the neon-lit streets of Vegas, content to be together in the city of dreams.
The adrenaline of the night, plus plenty of alcohol, courses through our veins as we stroll back to our hotel suite, taking in the dazzling lights of the Strip one last time before we retreat to our room. On the horizon, the golden glow of the sun barely lights the sky.
TWENTY
Alec
The sexual tensionbetween Barbi and me charges the night air and crackles with the promise of what’s to come. Anticipation builds as we navigate the bustling streets of Vegas, intent on retreating to the privacy of our hotel room. We weave our way through the crowd, our fingers tightly intertwined. Our steps rushed.
Neon lights from the casinos and bars illuminate our way as our night winds down. The city has a soul, a pulse of energy uniting everyone, but we’re ready to escape the lively Vegas Strip.
Like always, I scan the crowd, my senses alert and wary of any danger lurking in the shadows. It's late, but Vegas never sleeps. Not the revelers and not the criminals.
A saxophone’s somber notes drift toward us from a nearby corner. We stop for a moment, drawn in by the soulful and melancholic melody. I drop some bills into the musician’s hat, and we listen to another song while I wrap my arms around Barbi and sway to the heavy-hearted notes. A billboard blinks slowly above us advertising vacancies and a show, but then the feeling of someone watching puts me on alert. Danger pricks at the back of my neck, but a quick scan of the crowd reveals nothing.
I turn to Barbi and her eyes sparkle in the neon lights. Warmth fills my chest. Something I haven't felt in years. We move on from the musician and keep walking, our fingers still intertwined, while I scan the sea of faces as my senses warn me of an unseen threat.
"Thanks for bringing me here." Barbi breaks the silence. "I've never been to Vegas before."
"I'm glad you're enjoying it. I want tonight to be special. Are you hungry for a midnight snack?"
"Yeah, that sounds great."
"There's a small Italian restaurant right around the corner. Does that sound too heavy?”
"Italian sounds perfect."
We walk a few more blocks until we reach a quieter street. The crowds thin, shadows lengthen, and the neon lights flicker and fade. I can’t shake that feeling we’re being followed, but for the life of me, I can’t find anyone watching us.
“Is everything okay?” Barbi notices my tense posture and looks at me curiously.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” I try to shake off the sense of unease and offer her a reassuring smile. I stop in front of a small Italian restaurant with a sign out front proudly proclaiming they're open 24-hours.
