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“I’ll take you up on the first two. We’ll see about the last one.” She laughed, though the sound was brief as her expression shifted to something more serious. “You are still coming, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I promised. “I have the time off already, my family knows what’s going on, and I have my flight booked.”
There were very few things on earth capable of keeping me away, but I wasn’t tempting the universe by listing them.
“Did I tell you we booked the yacht?”
“You’re getting married on a yacht?” I asked slowly.
“Did I not tell you that?”
“No. I’d remember if you told me that.” Apparently, I’d missed more than I realized.
“We figured it’s the best way to control paparazzi,” Sariah explained.
“That makes sense.” It actually did. May was the drummer for Noise Dolls, an internationally famed femme punk rock band, which meant even basic errands could occasionally become an exercise in avoiding people with cameras. After what happened in London years ago, the entire band and their security team had gotten significantly more protective of Sariah. She existed outside of the public eye, and everyone around May worked hard to keep it that way. Their wedding was guaranteed to attract attention. “But what about pirates?”
I asked it mostly to be a jackass.
“Rhodes fucking Kennedy,” she snapped. “Don’t you put that out in the goddamn universe. I don’t need pirates at my wedding!”
I grinned.
“What if they’re sexy pirates?” I countered just to push her buttons a little.
“No sexy pirates!”
“Ugly pirates only, got it.”
“I swear to hell, if you curse my wedding with pirates, I will kill you and then bring you back just so I can kill you again,” Sariah muttered, making me grin wider. There was my feisty girl.
“No pirates,” I confirmed. “I’ll brush up on my shooting skills just in case.”
“Please,” she scoffed. “We both know I’m the better shot.”
Annoying, but fair.
“Touché—”
“Rho-Rho!” May exclaimed as she popped into the conversation, resting her chin on Sariah’s head. I watched the way my best friend visibly melted as she leaned into May, her shoulders relaxing and her expression softening. I envied their relationship and what they’d found with each other.
“May-May,” I replied, matching her enthusiasm. “How’s life? How’s pending retirement?”
“Life’s great. Pending retirement is amazing,” she said. “And it begins with an entire year of obsessively following my wife everywhere.”
Yeah. I wanted what they had, more than I’d ever be able to admit out loud. I wanted the feeling that came with finding my person.
“Seriously, I do mean everywhere. I’ll follow her to the bathroom,” May continued, and I made a face. Okay, maybe I didn’t quite want that. I still liked my space. “How’s the boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I retorted a little too quickly.
“Right, right.” May nodded slowly, lips pursed together. “How’s the non-boyfriend boyfriend doing?”
Of course. I glared at Sariah.
“You’re a fucking plague,” I said to Sariah, which only made her smile happily. “How many people are you telling that to?”
“Everyone at brunch,” she told me, and I groaned. Of course she was. No confidentiality agreement was strong enough to survive that table. “Brunch always begins with a Rhodes I’m-in-denial Kennedy update.”
