Rachelle

“Got it all scheduled,” he noted.
“Yes,” I returned.
“What’s a huge-ass wedding?”
“Don’t ask that,” I advised. “Just show up.”
His grin turned wicked and I liked it. That was, I liked it until he enquired, “You askin’ me to marry you, Red?”
I wasn’t even sipping coffee and, still, I chocked. Then I pushed out, “What?”
“I accept.”
I shook my head and kept shaking it when I requested clarification, “Let me get this straight. Did you just accept my non-marriage offer?”
“Non-marriage?”
“I didn’t ask!” My voice was rising.
“So you just wanna shack up?” he asked but didn’t wait on my answer. “I’m good with that too.”
Gah!
“I’m getting my huge-ass wedding,” I declared.
“So you are askin’ me to marry you,” he noted.
Gah! Gah! Gah!!
Sharp as a tack.
Someone kill me.”
― Kristen Ashley, Motorcycle Man