Page 8 of All Our Nevers

“Okay! Stop!” Sophie leans across the table, putting herself in our line of sight as best she can. “Seriously you guys, enough.”

“Yeah, stop,” Andy echoes, stern eyes fixed on me. “You’re upsetting my future wife.”

“How is this my fault?” I object, then point at the succubus on my right. “She started it.”

I hate that I’ve regressed to this, barely more than a petulant child. My brain wars with itself—tempted to be the worst version of myself to get under Amelia’s skin, but desperate to be the best version of myself in front of Andy. When that woman is here, it’s like I have no choice in the matter. Her sharp manicures claw into my skin and drag me down to hell.

“You’re my best man,” Andy says in answer to my question, “so you’re my problem.”

“And you’re my maid of honor,” Sophie adds towards Amelia, “and I love you, but I would really appreciate it if you could try to keep the peace.”

Nolan chimes in from his position at the head of the table. “As the wedding officiant, I’m officially telling you guys to cool it.” He looks proud of himself, which sends Amelia’s eyes rolling into outer space.

“You—” Amelia points at her brother “—go fuck yourself. You—” She points at Sophie and Andy next “—I love you, so okay.”

“Does that mean we’re in agreement about the Cape?” I ask, trying to move this show along.

“I think so,” Sophie says.

“Great.” Amelia reaches into her pocket. “I’ll pull up some rental options.”

“Any excuse to be on your phone,” I mutter.

“You know it’s funny,” she muses, “I could’ve sworn I just heard you say something that would upset the bride and groom, but that couldn’t be right, could it?”

“Absolutely not.” I lean a casual elbow on the table.

Her side-eye scorches over me—down, then up—before she refuses to dignify my words with a response. Instead, she turns back to her phone. “Okay how’s this one? It’s in Provincetown, literally a three-minute walk from the beach.”

She passes the phone to Sophie who starts swiping through photos right away. “This place is adorable. Four bedrooms, big living room, backyard space… I love it!”

The phone moves to Andy next, whose brow soon furrows into a sharp line.

“Lia, you know you have like ten texts from an unknown number?”

She snatches the phone back from him like lightning. “It’s fine. I’m sure it’s just spam.”

“It didn’t look like—”

“So that Airbnb looks good to both of you?” Amelia presses. Clearly, whatever those texts are, she doesn’t want to talk about them. “I can book it now.”

Nolan—who had also taken his phone out to research—says from his own little world, “Woah, did you guys know there used to be Vikings on Cape Cod?”

“Are we still thinking a few weeks before the wedding?” Sophie asks. “So maybe the weekend of July 7th? The weekend before will probably already be booked up for the 4th.”

Nods of agreement pass through the group before Amelia says, “Okay then I’m booking it. It’s three weeks away and I don’t want to lose this place.”

Nolan turns towards me. “You’re okay to take the long weekend, Owen? How does being a lawyer work with stuff like this? What if you have a case come up?”

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I glance down to it—a calendar invitation from Amelia with the details of the booking. Damn, she’s fast.

I look back up to Nolan, head wavering side-to-side. “My kind of work doesn’t usually require me to show up somewhere last minute. I can probably swing it as long as I bring my laptop with me.”

Amelia’s head snaps up to mine, daggers in her eyes. Across the table, Andy fidgets, looks down at his hands, anywhere but at me.

Shit.

“I—I mean,” I stumble, “I’ll bring it just in case, but I’m sure I won’t have to use it. It’s just that I’m the lead on a really important matter at the firm right now so I can’t exactly be unreachable. But the party is my priority.” I look straight at Andy, who’s still not meeting my gaze. “This is my priority. I swear.”