Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol)

They were the type of people who stood by their son as he kept fucking up his life.

They were the type of people to take in two boys after their father died.

They were the type of people I strived to be like—to make proud.

“When is the wedding?” she asked excitedly.

“Not until late tonight. They have a concert to play first.”

“How romantic,” she gushed.

“Not many people would call a Vegas wedding romantic,” I laughed.

“Oh, it’s not the location,” she said like it was obvious. “It’s the promise to each other—the commitment they’re making to love one another through thick and thin. Marriage is so important, so no matter where it happens or how, the meaning is always the same. Just because it’s not big and fancy doesn’t change the importance of the vow you take.”

I’d heard the speech a thousand times, but it always made me smile. Grandma and Grandpa had been married for almost fifty-five years. An impressive goal to emulate—especially coming from watching Dad marry again and again and again. I had perfect examples of what I did want in life and what I didn’t.

How their son could be so different always surprised me. Dad had married eight women before he finally kicked the bucket. None of them stayed long or cared much for my brother and me, but having the rotating door in our house left enough of an impression to know what I didn’t want. When our grandparents took us in, I got to see what a real marriage was, and I idolized it.

“Yeah. Parker and Nova don’t need much. I know they’re chomping at the bit to be married.”

“The life of a rock star,” she sighed dramatically. “Well, I’ll let you go. Make sure to send pictures. Especially of you and your date.”

I laughed at her hint. “It’s just Rae.”

“Ah, yes. Why don’t you two date?”

“Because Rae doesn’t date,” I answered in rote. We’d had this conversation too many times to count. They’d only heard me talk about Rae and seen a handful of pictures. Somehow we never managed to make our schedules match up the few times they came to visit, but loved her regardless.

“Such a shame. You two make a cute pair.”

“Thanks, Grandma.”

“Either way, take lots of pictures and tell the happy couple congratulations from us.”

“Will do.”

I hung up and looked at the time. Three more hours to kill.

I considered taking Rae up on her offer—if for no other reason than to see her, and maybe because that one time I really did love the smell of whatever gunk she put on my face. In the end, I decided to give myself time to build up my defenses. Rae and Vegas screamed temptation. She’d flirt, and I’d look away to hide the fact that I was really imagining pinning her to the wall.

But she had a boyfriend, and we were just friends.

I’d need time alone to remember that before I did something we’d both regret.

Like say fuck it and give in.

Watching Parker and Nova say their vows—even in front of Elvis—filled me with happiness. The love they had for each other bubbled over, filling the room, making everyone smile and tear up. This was a couple that would stand the test of time.

“Such a wimp,” Rae muttered at my side once we all stood outside congratulating the couple.

“Says the girl with watery eyes,” I muttered back.

“She’s my best friend. These are happy tears.”

“Yeah. I’m just happy for her, too.”

She paused, and something about it made me look down just in time for her to look up. “Sad it’s not you?” she asked, a tinge of edge to her tone matching a curious flare behind her thick lashes.

I’d formed a friendship with all three girls, but I was closer to Nova than Vera. We both liked art, giving us something to talk about, comparing the difference in our interests. She was more of a classical artist, while I took the route of graphic design. Rae made jokes about us nerding out and how we should just sleep together and get it over with. I’d roll my eyes and brush off the comment, but this time was different. This time had a sharper bite to her words—maybe a bit more honesty.

Was she…jealous?

But for Rae to be jealous, she’d have to see me as more than a friend—she’d have to want more. She’d have to want me for herself, and that wasn’t something Raelynn Vos did.

Cutting that useless line of thought, I shot back with my own banter, giving her the most intense stare while biting back my smile. “Hardly. We know there is only one friend I’d marry.” I almost choked at the way her eyes widened. “King, of course.”

Her sigh of relief was audible, allowing her shoulders to drop from where they’d pulled tight a second ago. “You two would make a cute couple,” she joked.