My Anti-Marriage

by D. J. Jamison

“Nah, not really,” Ant said. “I front, just like everyone else. We all have insecurities.”

  “Like you being sensitive about your intelligence?”

  Ant tossed down his pillow. “I’m not insecure about that. Just wanted you to know I’m smart as well as sexy.”

  “And you’re not vain?”

  Ant laughed. “Where else could this ring be? After the pep talk we got dressed, right?”

  Chris crossed to the closet and dug through his suitcase while Ant watched.

  “I’m a teacher, you know,” Ant said.

  Chris felt through each exterior pocket of the suitcase, although he thought he’d remember putting the ring there. Then again, he hadn’t been thinking straight that morning.

  “Yeah, you teach weight training,” he said, distracted as he closed the suitcase to drag it out of the closet and search the floor.

  “Nah. I mean, I do that. But I’m also a schoolteacher.”

  That got Chris’s attention. He paused, looking up at Ant, who seemed oddly vulnerable. Taking in Ant’s built physique, Chris tried to picture him at the front of a classroom. He could almost see him coaching a sport, but teaching?

  “What grade?”

  “Second.”

  “Grade school?” Chris was dumbfounded. “You’re telling me that you, man of the bulging biceps and giant pecs, teach young children?”

  “Yes,” Ant said. “Like I said, I have brains and brawn.”

  “Wow. That’s ...”

  “Boring,” Ant said. “Teaching little kids doesn’t scream sex appeal. Which is why I stick to weight training when going out with a man I want to impress.” He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, which Chris noticed was turning red. “And I really wanted to impress you.”

  Chris stood, satisfied the ring was not in the closet. He met Ant’s gaze, shaking his head. “Seriously? I never would have thought it was boring.”

  “No?”

  “Intelligence is attractive.”

  “Maybe on you.”

  Chris laughed. “I don’t know why you think I’m smart. I work in retail.”

  “You work in management, and you’re interested in things like foreign movies and art.”

  “No, I feel like I should be interested in those things. I front just as much as you do. I don’t want to be boring either.”

  Ant chuckled. “Damn, we’re a pair. Were we honest about anything when we were dating?”

  Chris’s chest tightened as the memory slammed into him.

  “I’m famished,” Ant said. “I swear I could eat a horse right now.”

  “Tough day at the gym?” Chris teased. “Better feed those muscles of yours. I bet there’s a nice big steak in here with your name on it.”

  “Mmm,” he said. “You have my number.”

  “Besides,” Chris said, leaning in. “You’re going to need your strength tonight.”

  Heat sparked in Ant’s eyes. “Is that right?”

  Chris licked his lips, knowing exactly what it would do to Ant. “I’m tired of waiting, and I think you’ll find I’m very ... demanding in—”

  “Ant?”

  A high-pitched voice interrupted Chris’s attempt to be sexy. Ant’s turned-on expression gave way to one of horrified surprise.

  “Raul?”

  A gorgeous Latino man with delicate features stood next to their table, his eyes sparking with fury.

  “You two-timing dick!” Raul screeched, throwing a glass of red wine in Ant’s face.

  Chris gasped, hands flying up to cover his mouth as Raul raged at Ant, tears streaming down his cheeks. “How could you do this to me? You said you loved me, and now you’re seeing other men?”

  Ant was too busy swiping wine from his eyes and fumbling with a cloth napkin to dry his face to answer.

  “You broke my heart,” Raul said in a trembling voice. “You really did.”

  Then he turned to Chris. “Don’t trust him. If he says he cares, don’t believe it for a second.”

  “Chris?” Ant said now, interrupting his unpleasant stroll down memory lane.

  “The bathroom. Let’s look there,” Chris said, charging ahead.

  “I know what you think,” Ant persisted as Chris moved aside toiletries and hand soaps to search the space around the sink. “I’m not a cheater.”

  “I know what I saw,” Chris muttered while attempting to pry the stopper from the sink.

  “I don’t think that comes out.”

  Chris stared at him, confused as he tried to make that statement fit with their conversation. Then Ant pointed to the sink stopper. “They make it so things can’t be lost down the sink.”

  Chris moved to the bathtub-shower combo, checking shelves for shampoo and conditioner, but nothing was there.

  “You never let me tell my side of the story.”

  “I didn’t want to hear it,” Chris said. “I’ve been with guys like you before.”

  Ant crossed his arms. “Guys like me?”

  “They say it’s not what it looks like. The other guy is just crazy or jealous, right?” Ant’s jaw tightened as Chris looked at him. “See? I don’t need to hear your story. I’ve heard it before.”

  Ant dropped his arms to his sides with a sigh. His shoulders slumped, his entire posture screaming defeat.

  “So, explaining what really happened that night won’t change anything? You’ll never believe me.”

  Chris hesitated. “I don’t know. I wish I could just believe you. It’d be easier.”

  “Would it?” Ant asked. “I think that’s a cop-out. If you believed me, you’d have to consider giving me another chance, and that scares the hell out of you.”

  Chris frowned, dropping his gaze to the floor. He couldn’t completely reject Ant’s words. Love was scary and painful, and Chris was done trying to crack the code to a successful relationship. Ant the lying cheater was easy to push away, but Ant as an honest guy who genuinely liked Chris? That would be a lot tougher to resist.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Chris murmured.

  Ant sighed. “Chris—”

  “What’s that?” Chris interrupted, dropping to his knees. Something shiny glinted under the edge of the bathroom cabinet. He leaned forward to snatch it from the tile and hold it up.

  “Found it!”

  Ant dropped down beside Chris, slumping against the sink cabinet. “Thank fuck.”

  Chris held up the ring, examining the inscription. “Definitely Brad’s ring. I can’t believe you got either of them on your huge fingers.”

  Ant wiggled the fingers in question, but he didn’t joke or flirt about that comment, as he once might have. Chris’s refusal to give him a fair hearing still stung. All the worse because Chris was right about what that story would be. Raul was jealous and unstable. But that didn’t mean Ant’s story wasn’t true. Only that Chris was unlikely to believe him.

  If he was going to have another chance with Chris, he’d have to find a new approach. It galled him that Chris so easily believed he was a player, but maybe if he could earn Chris’s trust again, the stubborn man would realize he’d judged Ant unfairly.

  It was a long shot, but it was all he had.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Chris glanced over, so close Ant could see the varied shades of blue in his irises. One eye was darker than the other, Ant noticed, when he was looking at him from this close-up.

  “What?” Chris asked.

  “When we go back home, what happens then?”

  “What do you mean? We’ll get the annulment. Everything goes back to normal.”

  “Everything?” Ant pressed.

  Chris looked confused. “I don’t know. I just want this whole mess over. Once we get the annulment, we can both move on and forget what idiots we were together.”

  Like a glutton for punishment, Ant kept pushing.

  “Or we could start over. Be friends again at least?”

  Chris remained ominously silent.

  “Or not,” Ant
said, standing.

  Chris scrambled to his feet, looking apologetic. “No, of course we could be friends. I’m not usually so …”

  “So what?”

  “I don’t know. Angry and bitter,” Chris said. “It’s just … I thought things were going to go different with us.”

  “So did I,” Ant said.

  They stood awkwardly gazing at each other, regret a heavy presence between them.

  “What now?” Chris asked.

  “Now, we get these wedding rings back where they belong so they’re ready for their real husbands. After that, we can go down to the marriage license office and see what we can sort out. With any luck, you won’t be my husband for long.”

  “Some luck,” Chris murmured.

  Chapter Seven

  Chris stepped into the marriage license office, stopping two steps inside the door.

  “It looks familiar, doesn’t it? I kind of remember being here.”

  “We would have come to check out the paperwork for Brad and Riley, though,” Ant said. Even though he didn’t really believe it, he added, “Maybe we’ll get up there and find out it’s all a mistake.”

  Chris nodded as they stepped into a short line behind a young, nervous-looking blonde.

  She flashed a smile over her shoulder. “Exciting, isn’t it? We’re getting married tonight!”

  Her fiancé, a significantly older gentleman in a cowboy hat and the largest belt buckle Ant had ever seen, smiled indulgently.

  “It sure is, sweetie. But hey, let’s not pester anyone.”

  “Sorry,” she said with a smile. “I’m just so excited.”

  “No worries. It’s a big day,” Ant said.

  “A memorable one,” Chris added. “You should cherish it.”

  Ant didn’t miss the subtle messages Chris was sending out. He was clearly unhappy he didn’t remember their ceremony. Ant was a little distressed not to remember the night more clearly himself, but there was nothing to be done about it.

  “Aw, y’all are so sweet! Aren’t they sweet, Ted?”

  “They sure are, darlin.’”

  Ted subtly turned her to face front, and Ant shook his head. He wasn’t sure if the guy was jealous of his bride talking to men or if he’d read them as a gay couple and was homophobic. Either way, he wasn’t friendly, but Ant didn’t have the energy to care.

  “You really think there’s any chance they won’t have a marriage license for us on file?”

  “We’re about to find out.”

  THURSDAY NIGHT

  Chris pranced ahead of him, oddly graceful even as he wavered on his feet. He tapped at his phone.

  Ant sped up to catch him. “What are you doing?”

  “Ordering a Lyft.”

  “Where to?”

  “Marriage licish.” He stopped and tried again. “Marriage licish. Insh. Offish. Fuck’s sake!”

  He yelled the last two words, and Ant bent over laughing. He laughed so hard he nearly collapsed on the sidewalk. There were people around them, walking the Strip to visit casinos, to go to shows, and to meet for dinner. They gave Ant a wide berth.

  Chris laughed with him, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward a car.

  “Wait, stranger danger!”

  Chris laughed harder. “No! It’s the Lyft.”

  They fell into the backseat, giggling like kids, and the driver didn’t look too pleased.

  “Don’t puke in my car,” he said. “If you feel sick at all, you should get out now.”

  “We’re good,” Ant said.

  “Yep, never better!” Chris grinned at Ant. “Just on the way to get our marriage ... license.” He spoke slowly to enunciate, and he was so adorable Ant leaned in and kissed his cheek.

  “You proposing?” he teased.

  “Yep. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em!”

  “Sounds like a great reason to get married,” the driver muttered.

  The car pulled up outside the marriage license office, and they stumbled out.

  “We’re not really getting married, right?” Ant asked.

  He didn’t really mind one way or the other, but he thought Chris was joking.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Chris singsonged as they stepped up to a counter. The place was relatively quiet, with just two other couples sitting in chairs with clipboards balanced on their knees as they filled out paperwork.

  “But what about—”

  Chris raised a finger to his lips. “Shhh. This is the only way to make sure Brad and Riley have smooth sailing. We’ll be the guinea pigs.”

  Then he asked the clerk for a marriage license. Ant braced himself for another slurred mangle of the word, but the clerk handed over the paperwork and recited the fee required without looking up from her computer.

  They took the form to a corner and worked on filling in names, birth dates, Social Security numbers, and cities of birth. Chris’s handwriting was surprisingly legible, and Ant let him do the writing.

  Shortly after, they gave it to the clerk along with Chris’s credit card, and voilà! They received one marriage license issued to Christopher Anthony Everett and Bryant Henry Fletcher.

  FRIDAY NIGHT

  Chris and Ant ordered a Lyft ride back to the hotel, having gotten all the help they were going to find at the marriage license office, which all told, wasn’t much. They’d received a group text about meeting up later, but for now, their time was their own.

  “Well, I guess that’s that,” Chris said. “I officially have the worst luck ever.”

  Ant nudged his shoulder. “Hey, you could have done worse. Some people would even think I’m a catch.” He lifted his hand, ticking off points on his fingers, “I’m employed, I’m fit, I love dogs—”

  Chris laughed, despite reeling from the confirmation he was a married man. Any doubts he’d had about it had been squashed when he saw the copy of their marriage license.

  “Really? You’re counting your love of dogs?”

  “Never trust a person who doesn’t love animals,” Ant said. Wearing a serious expression, he asked, “How do you feel about animals?”

  “Um …”

  “Because if the man I drunk married doesn’t love dogs, then I’m the one with the worst luck. Believe it or not, this isn’t happening to only you. We’re in this together.”

  “Okay, point taken.” Chris had been a smidge self-centered since this thing started. He was so overwhelmed about how he felt about it, he hadn’t spared Ant’s feelings much thought. The man was all bravado and smiles. It was tough to remember he might be reeling too. “I love dogs, by the way, but I’m more of a cat person.”

  Ant groaned. “No. Cats are evil. I don’t know if I can trust you now.”

  They bantered most of the way to the hotel until Ant spotted a food truck and asked the driver to pull over. Chris’s stomach growled as they lined up for street tacos, reminding him it had been a long time since lunch, and he hadn’t eaten much then.

  While they devoured the tacos, spiced perfectly and accented with fresh cilantro and salsa, Chris tried to come to terms with his new reality.

  The man walking beside him was his husband.

  He’d really gone to Vegas, gotten drunk, and married someone. He’d known since he saw that wedding band on his finger that morning, but it felt real now.

  He was married. He’d never again say vows, kiss a man, and promise to be his husband for the first time. He’d never remember his first wedding. Even if he met the man of his dreams and remarried, he’d never have that again.

  But it could be worse. He could have married some stranger instead of Ant, a thought that made his stomach curdle.

  At least if he had to go through this, he wasn’t going through it alone.

  Ant walked Chris to his room. Their lighthearted banter had fallen away while they ate, to be replaced with a comfortable silence. Well, it was comfortable on Ant’s end. He wasn’t sure what was going through Chris’s head.

  They stopped in front of Chris’
s door, but Ant wasn’t ready to say goodnight. Chris had looked so fragile in the marriage license office, where the clerk printed a copy of their marriage license for them to see with their own eyes. All day, they’d been working under the assumption they’d gotten married, but seeing it in black and white had brought it home for Chris.

  For Ant, too.

  He’d spent the walk to Chris’s door thinking about the fact that Chris was his husband now. He’d come on this trip for another chance with Chris, and if this wasn’t it, then what was? But he could hardly suggest they stay married. Even if it wasn’t crazy to marry a man who’d hated his guts a day ago, he’d never want Chris to be with someone he didn’t love. The guy deserved happiness, and if the price was an annulment, Ant would make sure they filed their paperwork the next morning.

  The clerk at the marriage license office had informed them there were a number of lawyers in Vegas who specialized in annulment and divorce, and they should look there for assistance.

  “Guess I should go in,” Chris said, breaking into his thoughts.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, your pep talk worked,” Chris said. “You’re not the worst guy I’ve met recently.”

  Chris’s attempt at his old snarky humor was weak, but Ant played along, sensing that Chris needed it.

  “Does this mean I’m no longer the last man you’d ever marry? Because I’m counting that as a win.”

  Chris smiled up at him, those clear blue eyes drawing Ant closer. “You’re really not the last,” Chris murmured. “If only …”

  He trailed off, biting his bottom lip. Ant felt a tension mount between them, not angry or uncomfortable, but thick and mouth-drying.

  “What?” Ant asked as his pulse jumped.

  They stood an inch apart, close enough to kiss, and he wanted to bridge that gap. But he didn’t want to spook Chris when the man was finally seeing him as something other than an enemy.

  “I just wish I could remember it,” Chris said. “I’ll never know what it was like to say those vows or kiss my groom. I always thought if I got married, and that’s a big ‘if,’ it would be something I’d remember for the rest of my life.”