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“Fine. If you say so.” He stuffed the poem in his pocket and swayed again, so I put a hand on his shoulder to steady him in the chair.

I considered the best way to help him if he intended to go through with the proposal right now. “How long ago did Gwen leave?”

“Half an hour ago or so.”

I did the calculations in my head. “That probably gives you about another twenty to thirty minutes. That’s good. If you really want to propose now, you should drink an entire bottle of water while I put on a strong pot of coffee to brew. Then, while you brush your teeth and use mouthwash—and I mean alotof mouthwash—I’m going to put the rest of these drafts in the trash and get out of here. You’re on your own after that. Just tell her you love her and want to marry her. It’s pretty straightforward.”

“Wait.” He grabbed my arm, panicked. “That’s too simplistic of an overview. I need specific details on what I’m supposed to do and say, and in what order. You’ve got to spell it out for me.”

I put both of my hands on his shoulders and looked him square in the eyes. “You don’t have to do anything other than ask her the question and show her the ring. Speak from your heart, Elvis. It’s what you do best, and it’s what will mean the most to Gwen, okay?”

“No poem?”

“No poem.”

I let it sink in until he blew out a huge breath. “Okay, I guess I can do that. Thanks for believing in me, Lexi. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and technically, the first real friend I ever had, if you don’t count Xavier.”

“And you’re my first real friend outside of Basia,” I reminded him. “Isn’t it strange how your brother and my best friend are now married?”

He smiled. “It is. Look at us now. Growing up, getting married to people we love, and managing to stay friends despite all that.”

“We’ll always be friends, Elvis.” I nudged the ring box next to his hand. “But soon Gwen will be your everything, and she’s going to eclipse me and Xavier a million times over to be the best friend you’ve ever had. And you’ll be the luckier for it.”

To my surprise, he started to tear up, so I looked away to stop from doing the same. I went to the small fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to him. “Drink this and then go wash up, okay?”

“Okay.” He chugged the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He tossed it into the trash and missed before heading for the bathroom. I picked up the bottle, started a pot of coffee, and was just getting a mug out of the small cabinet when I heard a noise at the door.

What the heck!

I ran to the bathroom to alert Elvis. “Gwen’s here,” I hissed. “What’s your play?”

To my shock, Elvis grabbed a fistful of my shirt, pulling me into the bathroom with him and slamming the door shut.

“Wh—” I started to say when Elvis clamped a hand over my mouth.

“Shhhhh,” he whispered, his breath making me wince. “I don’t want her to know I had to ask you what to do.”

“Elvis, I’m back,” Gwen called out. “I came back early because I missed you. Are you in the bathroom?”

So many things flashed through my mind at that moment. But first and foremost, I was trapped in a bathroom with an inebriated Elvis while his girlfriend, and potential fiancée, stood just on the other side of the door. There could be a lot of explanations for why we were in the bathroom together—all of them completely innocent—but I was terrified neither one of us would be socially adept enough to pull off a credible explanation under that kind of pressure.

“Hi, Gwen.” Elvis called out. “I’m in the bathroom.”

Elvis grabbed my arm and motioned wildly for me to hide in the shower. I shook my head, but he pointed insistently. Not seeing any other option short of decking him, I reluctantly climbed inside the tub, and he pulled the shower curtain shut, hiding me.

A minute later I heard a thump, and Elvis started cursing. I peeked out from behind the curtain and saw him dressed in nothing but his underwear, hopping around on one foot, clutching his toe.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

“Pretending I’m about to take a shower,” he whispered “But I stubbed my toe. Ow!”

“Have you lost your mind?”

Off balance, he crashed into the door and tried to straighten himself.

“Elvis, are you okay in there?” Gwen called out in concern. “You need help?”

“No. No, I’m fine,” he said. “I’m just going to take a shower.”