Grip gave Jay what he hoped was a reassuring amount of manly massaging. “Like I said, it’s a sure thing.”
“Nothing, nothing is ever sure.” Jay walked out of his hold, went to the dresser and picked up a hairbrush, squeezed the handle like it was him or the brush and only one of them could survive. “We convince ourselves we’re right and safe and we plunge in and hope for the best.”
Okay, unexpected, roll with it. “If you and Evie are not a sure thing, then I have no hope getting something to stick with Mena.”
Jay’s eyes met Grip’s in the dresser mirror. Matcha, that’s the color he was. “But you and Mena are good?” Jay said.
“Yeah and you and Evie are everything I want to have with Mena.”
Grip flapped his arms, trying rid himself of the heebie-jeebies. Low fuss wedding, they’d said. He’d be the bridesmaid and the best man, he’d offered. And since Evie was giving herself away and Jay wasn’t fussed about tradition, that was the deal. Easy A. Except now, here he was negotiating with an inconveniently reluctant groom while their guests were drinking Haydn Delaney’s wine cellar dry on the fantastic pool deck of the house he shared with Evie’s bestie, Teela. “You’re wigging me out, dude.”
“So much can go wrong between two people.”
“Holy butt fuck.” Yep, said that aloud. “Is this just stage fright or are you seriously standing here thinking doomsday thoughts about marrying the fucking love of your life?”
“I—ah.” Jay tossed the dead brush aside and turned to face Grip. “What if it’s the wrong thing for her?”
Grip closed his eyes tight, shook his head. This couldn’t be happening. It was a stress dream. He’d wake up with Mena’s hand on his chest and her lips kiss-ready and they’d start the day with some high impact bedroom gymnastics with sensational dismounts they’d stick.
“Evie’s career as a songwriter is just taking off and she’s still running Tice Social. What if I’m standing in her way? What if being married drags her down.”
He opened his eyes. Jay was still the color of Japanese tea and they were still in Hayden and Teela’s guest room and Grip was wearing a suit he’d had to have tailored. He looked suave as fuck.
“That’s the old idea Errol sold you. Convinced you to leave Evie so she could focus on her career. It was wrong then, it’s wrong now. You both know that.” It was nearly the end of Evie’s relationship with her dad when she found out.
Jay looked at his shoes. “What if it’s not wrong now?”
Grip’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He stared at Jay. This was no dream and his closest friend was not messing about. “Hold on.” He took his phone out, on screen a text from Evie. We’ve got a problem.
No shit we do.
“Hang here,” he said to Jay. Don’t do anything but look pretty. “I’ll be back.
He left Jay to brood and wound his way to the other side of the house where Evie was. He had to scoot past the doorway to the deck where everyone was waiting. Mena was out there. He hadn’t seen her since she devoured his
ricotta pancakes at breakfast. He almost detoured just to catch a glimpse of her all dressed up, but being the bridesman was his first responsibility, so he knocked on the door to the room where Evie was waiting and barged in.
There were dogs, and Evie wasn’t exactly dressed like he thought a bride would be dressed but this was Evie so who knew if brides got married in black these days. It wasn’t like he was experienced at weddings.
“What kind of a problem?” he said. He needed to scout a solution and get back to Jay, before the guy tossed his lunch and called the wedding off.
Evie sat cross-legged on the bed, accessorized by a black Labrador sprawled in her lap. There was another dog, scruffy, breed indeterminate, on the floor by her side. It woofed. It had an excellent baritone.
“You can’t tell from looking,” Evie said.
Evie was her usual color and sarcasm, though her regular melody was off, like Jay’s had been and she wasn’t juggling any tech. Grip heard the jangled notes in her. “I don’t exactly know what I’m looking at.”
She gestured and Grip turned to follow her hand to spy a wedding dress on a hanger. “It doesn’t fit?” There was a fix to that, safety pins, gaffer tape. No problem.
“What if marrying Jay hurts his career?
Problem. He glared at Evie. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, no, I’m not. I am not a fan favorite. I watch his socials. His hard-core fans don’t think I’m good enough for him.”
“You think Jay is worried about mean comments from randoms on social?”
“No, I just—” Evie avoided his eyes and scratched the dog’s head, “I’m worried. What if being married holds Jay back?” She buried her face in dog neck.