k her forehead with her palm.
He was a hoot? What else was he, the bee's knees? The cat's pajamas?
"He's something all right," Andy said, apparently ignoring Shay's momentary lapse. "I hope he's not giving you too hard of a time. I know he can be a pain in the balls when he wants to be."
"He usually wants to be," Shay offered.
Andy sipped her drink and nodded. "That's my dear old brother."
Mercifully, the subject shifted, and as they watched more dancers gyrate and grind on stage, Andy really started to enjoy herself whilst progressively drinking every cocktail a little bit faster. At least as far as Shay could make out between the slurred edges of her words.
Andy shouted along with the music and then shoved a dollar onto the stage in front of her.
Shay laughed, and Andy beamed back at her. "Thanks for taking me out tonight. You're a good friend."
"Don't mention it," Shay said. "What are maids of honor for?"
"I guess you're right. Cheers." Andy clinked her glass to Shay's.
They both drank—thankfully by now they'd switched to beer, and Shay watched her friend from the corner of her eye. All night, Andy had been grinning, talking about Logan and the wedding, chatting about all the amazing hopes and dreams she had for the future.
It was the happiest Andy had ever been in all the years they'd known each other, and Shay had known her for a very long time.
Still, as overjoyed as she was for her friend, a part of her stung with jealousy every time she took in Andy's smiling face. Shay wanted to feel that way, too. To have a reason for privately laughing to herself or getting lost in memories of a torrid love affair.
Or, one very specific torrid love affair.
"How long has it been since Matt had a serious girlfriend?" Shay asked, hoping the buzz of alcohol would dull the suddenness of her question.
Andy let out a long whistle. "Probably never."
"Never? Not one?" Shay raised her eyebrows.
"Who are you to judge? I can't say that I remember seeing you with anybody serious in all the time I've known you."
"I..." Shay swallowed.
That couldn't be right. She'd dated, after all. She'd dated plenty. There was John and Paul and... and...
George and Ringo?
She had nothing. Because as many dates as she'd been on over the years, not one of them seemed to have staying power in her memory. There was one guy, she guessed, back when Andy still couldn't admit she was into Logan, but that too had been another fling.
Another distraction from what she was slowly realizing she'd known for a long time now.
"I guess I have sort of played the field."
"You guess? You two are a match made in heaven," Andy said, and Shay stared back at her friend blankly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Shay asked.
"Come on, the girl who doesn't believe in love and the guy who doesn't commit? That practically writes itself."
"What are you—"
"Then add to that the disenfranchised youth. The mother problems—"
"Andy—"