Page 25 of Never Not Friends

My chest does that stupid, traitorous thing where it tightens over absolutely nothing. Because Vinny has never cared about me and my love life. Why would he start now?

I hand him the invitation, trying to get us back on track. “I think you should stay with the original font. Can we agree it’s legible enough for normal people who can read cursive?”

“If you say so.” He eyes me. “But is this the right color of invitation?”

“White?” I ask. “What other color would it be?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” He smiles. “The wedding is on a Saturday. What color are Saturdays in your mind.”

I grin. “Saturdays are tan, so probably not going to work for your invitations.”

“I guess not.”

“How did everything look?” Lila reappears.

“Luliet will be very happy with our choices,” Vinny says with a serious face.

I crack a smile. “Everything looks great. Can we take this sample invitation to show Juliet?”

Vinny gives me a pointed look. “Don’t you mean Luliet?”

I discreetly elbow his side.

Lila’s gaze flips between us with confusion. “Yes, you can take that copy.”

“Perfect.” Before he has the chance to keep up his Luliet joke, I grab Vinny’s arm, yanking him toward the door. “Thank you so much for your help. I’m sure Juliet will be in touch.”

I push Vinny outside. “Your joke is not that funny.”

“I don’t know”—he spins to face me as he walks backward down the sidewalk—“it made you laugh.”

“Smile. It made me smile and only because you looked like an idiot. Not because I thought you were funny.”

“I would believe you, except you’re the only person who actually thinks I’m funny—the only person who laughs at my jokes.” His stare carries so much history behind it that I have to look away.

“Well, my car is over there, so...” I point across the street.

“Emma.” His voice is low and sweet, pulling my gaze to him. “I feel bad that you agreed to help us so much. It’s not your wedding.”

Wow, that one hurt.

My answer catches somewhere behind my ribs before I force it out. “I know it’s not my wedding.” I smile through the pain of that statement. “I want to help.”

“You do, because you’re the nicest person that ever lived, but also you don’t know how to say no, especially to Juliet.”

Not this again. It’s like he and Avery plotted an intervention this week.

“You’re acting as if Juliet asked me to cut off my pinky for this wedding.”

“If she asked, I have no doubt you’d hand her a saw.”

“Well”—my smile grows—“is it my left pinky or my right?”

He grins. “Let’s say it’s your left pinky.”

“Totally dispensable.” I feign a serious expression. “Where’s the saw?”

He laughs with a subtle shake of his head. “Fine, cut your pinky off, help with the wedding, but just make sure this doesn’t turn into the hot springs hike again.”