The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

BONUS: The Cold Feet Kerfuffle

What can I say? My life has been utter bliss since, you know, the world imploding.

The school year went by in a flash. Hayden worked all year as a busboy at a local hotel, working up the kitchen ladder to become a part-time prep cook. His cooking skills have improved tenfold, and he has a guaranteed job at the hotel when he graduates culinary school.

I, on the other hand, am about to pursue a degree in literature. I have a knack for churning out stories, believe it or not. Mostly about bad boys. Who would've thought that being a walking main character in my previous life would translate to my current one? My debut novel, "My Bad Boy Quarterback Millionaire Ex-Boyfriend is an Mpreg Butt-spanking Werewolf" has piqued quite the interest of a few agents.

Needless to say, one of us has a more dignified job than the other. But that doesn't matter, because by this time tomorrow, what is his will be mine, and what's mine will be his'. That's right, tomorrow is our wedding!

I look at the gold band in my ring as the moonlight reflects upon the moissanite crystal embedded on it. We ain't millionaires after all. Heh, "we." We are a we, after all. A being of two souls. It almost feels unreal, to be able to be with the man I love without anything else between us. Both literally and relatively.

I'm sitting on his lap, both covered by a blanket as a fire roars in front of us. The endless night sky is sprawled above us, twinkling, I want to believe, just for the two of us. Hayden is holding a beer, taking sips as he caresses my forearms. It couldn't get any better than this.

"so, who's gonna be the boy and who's gonna be the girl?" asks Brayden, sitting next to us, vaping like the Silicon Valley douche he is.

I stand corrected, it could be at least a Brayden% better. Not like we can tell him to fuck off. He was so kind as to allow us to use his family mansion as a wedding venue. You can say a lot about the last wedding held there--starting with all that kidnapping and "Sister Trap" shenanigans--but it was beautiful. We were all sitting around a firepit in his backyard, just enjoying the night as a kind of bachelor party.

"Brayden, my man,

That is sexist, a lot,

Don't be a douchebag," says Okayden, flanking us on the other side. He's wearing a Foot Locker uniform over his overalls, making him look twice as bulkier than usual. Thankfully, it's not a full moon out.

Unlike Brayden, who used his future knowledge to make as much money as he could, Okayden only convinced his mother to, A) Don't be a dick to Trevor, and B) Open up business to the outside world. One thing leads to another, and we have in front of us the manager of the first Foot Locker in the world who sells hoof-shoes and elf socks.

To each their own, I suppose.

"Yeah, brother, not cool," says Hayden. His now pudgier belly makes him the perfect improvised mattress. I mean, don't get me wrong, his six-pack was hot, but his belly is a snack. "You know that's a harmful stereotype."

"dude, i meant it, like, who's gonna change their last name," says Brayden.

"We're gonna hyphen it, Gomez-Wilson," I say.

"so, you're the boy, then," says Brayden.

I feel Hayden stirring beneath me. Dammit, I was getting comfy. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. That's not what we agreed on."

"Of course it is," I say. "We agree to hyphen it."

"I mean, yes, but we never agreed on Gomez-Wilson," says Hayden.

"Well, I thought it was a given! Hyphens are done in alphabetical order. G comes before W. It should be Gomez-Wilson!"

Brayden raises his beer to his lips, looking away with a shit-eating smile. "oh, trouble in paradise, i see..."