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Liam is both shorter than me and has a slighter build, and yet when he arches an eyebrow like that—with such utter disdain—I feel about two feet tall.
He dislikes me. Because I’m Harrison’s best friend. And LiamhatesHarrison.
It’s fair. About a year ago, when Liam and Harrison first met, Harrison was…well, being Harrison with Liam. Charming and flirtatious and…noncommittal.
And now the two of them can’t be in the same room without snarking at each other.
“Guys? Where’s Brad?” Liam asks, saying it slowly, as if we’re not very bright.
“Well. He isn’t here with us,” Harrison says, clearly stalling.
Liam rolls his eyes. “Thank you for that brilliant observation.” He gestures to the small room that couldn’t hide a Leprechaun. “So where is he?”
“Where are any of us, really?” Harrison murmurs. “In the grand scheme of things, that is.”
Oh, God. Harrison is known as the ‘people person’ in our company. He’s charming, smooth, fantastic on his feet. He can talk even the surliest chef into trying new dishes and even the prickliest food critic into giving second, even third, chances.
But he’sterriblewith Liam.
How he ever got the broody younger man into bed in the first place is beyond me. They couldn’t be more different, and Liam clearly thinks Harrison is an idiot.
Which he certainly seems to be whenever Liam is around.
But Harrison still wants Liam. Oh, he denies it but it’s obvious to me. I have no idea how Liam feels about Harrison beyond chronically perturbed. I just know that they bicker and bitch whenever they’re together, and right now I don’t have time foranyof their usual shit.
Myconcern is Ivy.
Ivy’s relief has turned to agitation again. She’s swiping frantically through her phone and biting her lower lip.
“Just answer the damned question,” Liam snaps at Harrison. “The officiant wants to talk to Brad before the ceremony.”
Harrison stares him down. “Hey, where’s your tie?”
“What?” Liam’s hand goes to his throat, and he frowns, even as he clears his throat. “With my jacket.”
Harrison and I are in tuxes. Liam is supposed to be too, but he hasn’t even tucked his shirt in yet. Liam is one of those guys who always looks like he’s just rolled out of bed and simply run his hand through his hair—a fact that Harrison has pointed out to me more than once.
Liam is standing up as Ivy’s best man, while Harrison and I share the title on Brad’s side.
Or that’s how itwasgoing to be.
Liam suddenly looks a little flustered, and I think it has more to do with Harrison than the missing groom. But he glances over at Ivy and clears his throat again. “Seriously, where is Brad? This isn’t cool.”
“It’s all fine, William,” Harrison says, calling Liam the stupid-assed nickname he’d come up with for the grumpy writer.
He’d had to explain to me that William is the English version of Liam. It doesn’t matter. It annoys Liam, which is really Harrison’s whole purpose for it.
“Don’t worry. We’re handling it,” Harrison says.
His voice is a touch condescending and his expression is…stupid.
I give my friend a look. A look that saysstop being an evasive asshole for no reason, I know you want to bang him but we absolutely do not have thisall at once.
Liam is now glowering at Harrison. “You’ve got it? No problem? Everything is fine?”
Harrison gives him a nod. “Of course.”
“Then where’s the groom? And why isn’t he answering Ivy?”