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“Don’t fuck it up then,” Mari said, with a shrug.

“Understood,” I nodded.

“And,” Devonna added, “you should know that we’re doing this for Anica, not for you. If at any point we think this will hurt her more than help her, all bets are off.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. She deserves people who look out for her.”

“She does,” Devonna agreed. “Now, get out. Ms. Marcel is supposed to return soon from a meeting.”

The thought that I might be able to see Anica made my heart leap, but I pushed it down. I’d promised I would respect her boundaries, but god I wanted to see her. To hold her. To drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness.

Instead, I nodded once and headed for the door. “Right. Well, I’ll call you later to start working out the details.”

“Oh, and Callan?” Mari called after me. I turned back to find her grinning wickedly. “When this works and you two eventually have babies, I expect to be godmother to at least one of them.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Devonna cautioned, but I noticed she didn’t dismiss the possibility outright.

As I left the office, I pulled out my phone and Chance’s contact, hitting dial.

“Cal?” he answered, sounding surprised. “Everything okay?”

“I need to meet with you and the guys. Tonight. It’s important.”

“Sure, no problem. Your place?”

“No. Neutral territory. That bar on 25th.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No,” I assured him. “I’m just going to need your help. All of you.”

“Consider it done,” Chance said immediately. “Whatever you need.”

The bar was dimly lit and mercifully empty when I arrived that evening. I’d reserved a back booth, ordered a round of drinks, and was halfway through mine when the guys showed up, all three looking unusually serious.

“This feels like an intervention,” Kris commented as they slid into the booth. “Are we supposed to tell you how your drinking affects us or something?”

“If anything, I’d be the one staging the intervention,” I pointed out. “Especially for you, Kris.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, reaching for his beer. “So what’s the emergency?”

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “I called off the bet.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that. Quite enjoying the payoff. So is my future bride.” Morgan nodded.

“I’m still wondering why,” Chance said.

“Because it was stupid,” I said bluntly. “Because I don’t want to marry some random woman to win a bet. Because...” I hesitated, then pushed forward. “Because the only woman I can actually see myself standing at that altar with wants nothing to do with me right now.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Kris let out a low whistle. “Holy shit. You’re actually admitting it.”

“Admitting what?” I asked, playing dumb even as my heart raced.

“That you’re in love with Anica,” Chance said simply.

I didn’t deny it. Couldn’t deny it anymore. “Yeah,” I said finally, the word barely audible. “I think I am.”

Morgan reached across the table to feel my forehead. “Are you feeling okay? Fever? Delusions? Severe head trauma we should know about?”

I batted his hand away. “I’m fine. I’m just... done pretending.”

“Pretending that you don’t have feelings, or pretending that you don’t believe in love?” Chance asked.

“Both,” I admitted. “It’s exhausting, and it cost me the one person who actually made me happy.”

“So what’s the plan?” Kris asked, leaning forward with interest. “Grand gesture? Public declaration? Kidnapping? Wait, not that last one. That’s illegal. Probably.”

“Definitely illegal,” Morgan confirmed. “And not romantic, despite what the books suggest.”

“I’m not kidnapping anyone,” I assured them. “But I am going forward with the wedding.”

Three identical expressions of confusion greeted this statement.

“The wedding,” Chance repeated slowly. “The one you were planning with Anica? The one that requires a bride, which you no longer have because you want Anica to be the bride, but she’s not speaking to you?”

“That’s the one. It’s actually perfect. Don’t you see? This is my chance to show her I’m serious. To prove that I... that I believe in this. In us.”

“By... getting married to no one?” Morgan looked skeptical.

“By standing at that altar,” I corrected. “Alone if necessary. Showing her that I’m willing to follow through, that I’m committed, that I...”

“Love her?” Chance supplied gently.

I nodded. “I’m going to be there, exactly where I’m supposed to be, hoping she shows up.”

“That’s either the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard or the craziest,” Kris decided. “I honestly can’t tell which.”

“Little of both,” I acknowledged. “But I need your help.”

“Name it,” Chance said immediately.

“I need you to be my groomsmen. To stand with me, even if it means looking like idiots when no one walks down the aisle.”

“Done,” Morgan agreed.

“And I need...” I hesitated. “I need your support. With this whole... feelings thing. It’s new territory for me, and I’m not great at it.”

“You’re terrible at it. Spectacularly bad. Like stuck-your-hand-in-the-garbage-disposal-and-made-a-human-smoothie bad. But we’re here for you anyway, because that’s what friends do.”

I winced. “Thanks, Kris, for that vivid description.”

“What Kris is trying to say in his uniquely asshole-ish way,” Chance interpreted, “is that we’ve got your back. No matter what happens.”

“Even if she doesn’t show?” I asked, voicing my deepest fear.

“Even then,” Morgan confirmed. “Though for what it’s worth, I think she will. But you need to make sure she knows you’re waiting for. She needs to know that you love her.”

“How? She won’t talk to me and has been avoiding me completely.”

“I have some ideas,” Chance said. “We can workshop them in a minute, but just to clarify your insane idea, the wedding is still on and you’ll be there, at the altar, possibly alone, hoping Anica shows up. And we’ll be there with you, looking equally ridiculous if she doesn’t.”

“Yup, that’s the plan,” I confirmed.

“I’m in,” Kris declared, raising his glass. “To Cal’s deranged romantic gesture slash potential public humiliation.”

“Thanks,’” I grinned, and clinked my glass against his.

“You know what this means, right?” Morgan asked, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Bachelor party.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I said quickly. “Given the circumstances?—”

“Oh, it’s absolutely necessary,” Kris interrupted. “If you’re going through with this insane plan, you’re doing it properly. All the traditions. Including the one where we get you hammered the night before and make you question all your life choices.”

“I’m already questioning all my life choices,” I pointed out. “That’s how I ended up here.”

“Then we’ll help you question them with tequila,” Morgan declared.

“Fine,” I conceded. “Bachelor party. But nothing that will end up on social media or require bail money.”

“You take all the fun out of everything. Now, let’s talk about how to get your woman to her wedding.” Kris slapped my on the back with a wide grin.