Dreamy Dylan

All Rights Reserved ©

#81 Dylan Peterson-Dyer

I really want to post, but I did my editing while I was tired. Then again, I am so busy these days that by the time I finally have time to write or edit, I am ALWAYS exhausted.

No worries, I am good, it's just exam period for my students, which means grading & fielding panic emails all day long. And of course I still have to teach my non-exam groups, hold parent-teacher conferences, and do a million other things. You guys should see my house... It's a dirty mess right now. When I have to choose between cleaning or sleeping, or cleaning or writing, cleaning never wins.

Why am I telling you this? My editing might lack a little bit in this chapter. If you see a mistake, feel free to tell me. You can snap a screenshot of the mistake and DM me on Instagram, or just leave a comment here on Inkitt after reading the chapter. I promise I won’t take it as criticism! You'd be helping me. :)

Anyway, I figured you guys would rather get my chapter tonight than wait a week or so until I have more time to edit. Hope I’m right about that!


The ceremony itself is nothing special, to be honest. It’s just the justice of the peace explaining to us what we’ll be signing, asking us basic questions like if our date of birth and names are correct on the forms. Andre and I sit in the middle, nodding and affirming everything is correct, while our witnesses are on either side of us. Thomas and Deidra on my left, Ivan and Imani on Andre’s right.

“Would you like to sign the papers first to make things official, or do you wish to exchange rings or say vows before we get to the legal part?” the officiant asks.

“Oh erm, we don’t do rings today,” I say, glancing over at Andre. “And no vows either, but maybe we could… I don’t know…?” Crap. I should have read up on this. I don’t even know what the options are. I do, however, know all the different shades of white we could go with for our huge castle wedding. Cream, eggshell, ivory… I’m starting to question my priorities right about now.

“Can we stand up or something?” Andre asks, calm as ever. “We’d like to both say I do. We’re having a big wedding in about a year, so we’re saving all the rings and vows for that day, but it would be nice if this moment would still allow us to say something.”

“And kiss,” Thomas adds. “They need a big, epic, newly-wed kiss.”

The woman smiles. “Of course. Who doesn’t?” She motions for us to stand up. “You can hold hands if you want, whatever you feel comfortable with.”

Andre immediately grabs mine, squeezing tightly.

“Wait!” Ivan’s booming voice interrupts the officiant just when she starts to speak. “Sorry, but there should be pictures. Let me unlock my phone…”

“I’ll take some as well,” Thomas says behind me.

Pictures. Of course. I didn’t even think of that. I’ve thought a lot about our big fancy wedding, but today is truly only about convenience for me. About changing our names for the baby. Still, now that we’re here, and Andre is gazing at me with those soulful brown eyes, this day feels important too.

“Andre, do you take Dylan to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you take this man to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, till death do you part?”

“I do,” he breathes, his eyes locked with mine. “I definitely do.”

“Me too,” I reply without even thinking. “A thousand percent.”

“Dude, she didn’t even ask you yet,” Thomas laughs behind me.

Right. Luckily, Andre thinks it’s funny, and so does the officiant.

“Ask me,” I tell her without taking my eyes off my almost-husband. “I’ve got my answer ready and everything.”

“Dylan, do you take Andre to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you take this man to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, till death do you part?”

“Yes,” I reply. “I do.”

We lean in at the same time, sharing a tender kiss. I can’t even explain it, but something feels different. I didn’t think it would, but here we are. We’re married, and I feel married too.

Thomas hollers, acting like this is his unorthodox Vegas wedding all over again instead of a courthouse quickie. It makes me laugh, and Andre doesn’t mind either, grinning from ear to ear.

“Time to make things official,” the justice of the peace decides. “You’re not legally married until you and your witnesses sign the papers.”

We sit back down, and all six of us sign the documents one by one. Finally, the officiant checks the signatures, and tells us that we’re officially married as of now.

“My hubby,” I murmur to Andre, burying my face in his neck and inhaling his scent.

He embraces me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I love you so much, Dylan Peterson-Dyer.”

The name is official now too. That makes me grin as well.

“Oh my,” Deidra says behind us. “He’s kicking! Like a little maniac!”

Immediately, we break apart to feel our son kicking. Soon enough, we’re politely asked to leave, since the justice of the peace has four more weddings today. A couple comes in right after us, with two young kids, and what looks like their parents as their witnesses. Andre and I go outside with our four guests, deciding to pose for a few pictures in front of the courthouse. Not the most gorgeous backdrop ever, but with the stairs and the tall pillars, it still looks pretty official, I guess. Whatever – I just want a picture of how happy we are right now, so we can frame it.

A little to the left are two guys sitting on the steps. One is gangly, with short curly hair and dark skin. The other looks Asian, and he’s fidgeting with the fabric of his cheap-looking suit.

“You’ll keep your mouth shut,” the tall black guy says, glaring at the other one. “You hear me? You’ve made your opinion on the matter perfectly clear.”

“Surely he’s not going through with this.” He shakes his head. “What kind of an idiot gets married at 20? To her, of all people.”

Oh boy. I exchange a look with Andre, both of us a little amused. Good thing we know for sure none of our friends objects to our wedding.

“He’s definitely going through with this, and you better be supportive.” This is some serious tough love the tall guy is giving his friend. “You will smile, and you will act like you’re on board with this.”

“You mean like I do every single time you get back together with your cunt of an ex-girlfriend?” the Asian one bites back.

“Shut up, Khiêm.”

Deidra cuts into us listening in on the drama. “Smile! Look at the camera!”

“Oh sorry, are we in the picture?” The tall guy gets up, smiling apologetically.

They move a couple of steps down, continuing their intense conversation, shoving each other and scowling the whole time. I turn my attention back to Andre, putting an arm around him and pressing my lips to his. He even dips me, giving me one of those movie-moment kisses. These pictures are going to be amazing.

Of course, we need pictures with Thomas and Ivan as well, and with our two baby mommas. All in all, we pose for pictures for at least twenty minutes. You can never have too many of those. By the time we’re done, a jeep and a sleek black car have parked across the street, and the two guys who were sitting on the step have gotten up. A couple crosses the street, the guy in a simple suit, the girl in a slutty white dress.

“Hey,” Thomas says, nudging me. “Isn’t that Christopher?”

Indeed, Christopher Davis is getting out of the black car, along with his wife Abby and their kids. I look back at the couple about to get hitched, and realize the long-haired guy in the suit is Jagger, Chris and Abby’s oldest kid. I don’t know him well, but I’ve met all the members of the family at parties, mostly at Aston’s house.

“He’s a doctor,” I whisper to Andre, “and yes, the young woman is his wife.”

Andre laughs. “I know, love. I’ve met them before. Abby stops by the bakery with the younger kids a lot.”

When they reach the steps, Abby spots us right away. “Oh, don’t you two look amazing! Did you get married just now?”

“Shh, he refuses to call it a wedding.” Andre puts his hands over my ears. “But yes, we got married.”

“Congratulations,” a girl with long black hair says, straightening her red dress.

“Bee!” The gangly black guy is on his feet, rushing over to the group. “You came!”

“I wasn’t going to miss Celeste’s wedding,” she says, smiling at the bride.

“Oh,” the guy breathes. “You came for… Of course.”

“And I might have been hoping to see you,” she admits shyly. “I was hoping that afterwards, we could talk.”

“Yes,” he says quickly. “Yes, we can talk. We can definitely talk.”

The Asian guy is on his feet as well, muttering something under his breath about how he’s glad he’s single, because all women are cunts.

“Doesn’t have to be a woman,” I point out to him even though no one asked me. I press a kiss to Andre’s cheek. “Who needs women anyway?”

Deidra waves at me. “Erm… you do? Or did you forget I’ve got your bun in the oven?” With only two more months to go, her oven, a.k.a. her belly, is looking nice and round.

“I could never forget our baby boy.” I rub her stomach with a grin on my face. He kicks me right away, and it makes my stomach flutter. We still don’t have a name for him, because we can’t seem to agree on anything. With four parents in the mix, finding common ground can be tricky. We agreed on Jade for a girl rather quickly, but a name for a boy is harder for some reason.

“That’s your baby?” the tall gangly guy asks, his arm now around the girl who just arrived. “But… you just got married to… him… Right?”

“Oh my God, Marcus, you’re such an oblivious dipshit sometimes.” Jagger laughs and smacks his friend on the back of his head. “Obviously, two guys are missing a quite important ingredient to make a baby.”

“So do we,” Imani chimes in. “But between the four of us, we’ve got everything we need.”

“Congratulations,” the bride says as she cozies up to her fiancé. “Shouldn’t we be heading inside, Wolfie? I don’t want to be late to our own wedding.”

“Sure thing, Moonie.” Jagger says goodbye to us, congratulates us on the pregnancy and our wedding, and then he leads his soon-to-be wife up the steps.

“Wolfie?” Deidra mouths to me. “Moonie?”

“Don’t even ask,” the Asian guy mutters. He pretends to gag before plastering on a fake smile and following the others into the courthouse.

“I think it’s safe to say their wedding party is heading towards a lot more drama than ours,” Andre comments, looking over his shoulder at them. “Imagine having your best friend walking around telling people it’s a mistake you’re getting married.”

“Instead, you have a best friend who totally knew this was where you guys were heading back when the two of you were still pretending you were nothing but friends.” Ivan grins. “You’re so lucky to have me.”

Andre rolls his eyes, but he smiles fondly at the mountain of a man. “So fucking lucky.”

Since we don’t want today to be a huge deal, we settle for lunch at a local restaurant, just the six of us, and then Thomas and Ivan drop us back off at home. To my surprise, a guy is on our front porch, drilling a hole into the panel next to the front door.

“Excuse me!” I call out. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He doesn’t hear me, so Andre and I rush up there, trying not to scare the hell out of a guy with a drill, but at the same time attempting to get his attention. He turns around when he notices us, holding a piece of wood as well as his drill. “Yeah? What?”

“Why are you on our porch?” Andre asks, trying to sound polite.

“Drilling holes,” I add. “I’m a big fan of holes, especially ones I can drill, but I don’t remember asking you to be here.”

The man grins at my joke. “I’m putting up your new name plate.” He holds up the piece of wood. “You’re the Peterson-Dyer family, right?”

“Who…?” Andre seems at loss for words seeing our joint last names carved into the wood. “How…?”

I know immediately who gave us such a thoughtful gift, ordering a random guy to put it up without even informing us. It’s a no-brainer. I tell the guy to continue what he was doing, ushering Andre into the house. I plop down onto the couch, pulling out my phone to video call my best friend. The one who couldn’t be here today.

“You nasty bitch,” I greet Mila with the biggest smile on my face. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“You got married without me, after promising you wouldn’t!” She scowls at me. “I had to do something.”

Andre sits down next to me, waving at Mila. “Hey, nice to see you again. And thank you.”

“It’s nothing. And don’t worry, I’ll still get you a gift for your big fancy wedding. The one I will actually get to be at.” She shakes her head in dismay. “You’ll never be able to make this up to me, Dylan. After me being instrumental in you getting your head out of your ass and giving Andre another shot, this is how you repay me? I deserve better.”

“You’re the one who up and left to follow her girlfriend around the world. You better not miss our son’s birth or I will never forgive you.”

Mila’s expression softens. “Of course not. I’m heading back home in a month, and Scarlett will follow a few weeks later. I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“That’s the best wedding gift ever. Even better than the name plate, and that is already pretty damn great.” I’m honestly a little emotional now, knowing Mila will be back home soon. I know she loves her life, and I love mine, which is great and all that, but sometimes it sucks we don’t get to share much in each other’s joy.

“Okay, time to go. I need to stream soon, and you two should be heading up to the bedroom.” She throws us a wink. “Let me know if married sex is any different, will you?”

Hmm… that’s a thought… I look over at Andre once I’ve disconnected, a dirty grin making its way onto my face. “I’d be up for a little afternoon delight.”

Andre’s response is a low, sexy grunt that reverberates through my entire body. “Hell yes.”

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.