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“Exactly. There’s something sexy and mysterious about the whole thing.”

I shrug. “It’s not that mysterious. It’s just… we met. Grayson introduced me to his best friend and well… I just knew.”

“You knew? Even then?” Dina leans toward me in interest.

“Even then.” I smile. “And I think he knew it too. He bought this ring while we were still teenagers.”

I show it off.

“I expected a four-carat diamond, with all the money he makes,” Rita says, and I snort.

“I wouldn’t want it. It’d feel too heavy on my finger.”

“To each her own.” Rita grins, sticking out her hand and showing off her three-carat ring. She does this every time she gets tipsy. Her husband, Harold, is quite the man, it turns out.

We talk about Harold for a while, and then one of Lola’s new beaus, and I’m trying my best not to doze off.

“I think we should retire, ladies,” Rita says, hiccupping, clearly tipsy.

Dina laughs and helps her upstairs while I go up with Lola.

“It’s been forever since we’ve been able to hang out.”

“It has.” I bite my lip. “I’m glad you’re back now. You’re not mad at me for not telling you, are you?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing like that. I just wish you’d know you could tell me anything. I wouldn’t have judged you, you know?”

“I know. It was less that and more I worried my mother would interrogate the truth out of you.”

“Like putting skewers under my fingernails?”

“Wouldn’t put it past her.”

We both laugh, and she walks me to my room before heading to hers.

I look down at my phone, which has a half dozen increasingly incoherent texts, and I look at the time.

Nearly two. He may already be asleep.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Princess.” His words slur, and I can’t help but laugh.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Enough. Can I come home?”

“Absolutely not. We’re not supposed to see each other until the wedding, you know? It’s tradition.”

“Fuck tradition. I want you on my tongue.”

My neck and face start heating up. “Logan! What if the girls were still awake?”

“I don’t care. Put me on speaker. I want you to sit on my face.”

I dissolve into semi-embarrassed, semi-ecstatic giggles.

“Maybe on our honeymoon.”