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brYSON

I smoothed the delicate lace of Brooke's veil, my fingers trembling slightly as I arranged it just so. “There. Now you're officially the most beautiful bride in Lakeside Ridge history.”

Her eyes met mine in the mirror, a mix of excitement and terror swirling in their blue depths. “Are you sure I'm not going to trip and fall flat on my face walking down the aisle?”

I chuckled, resting my hands on her shoulders. “Not a chance. I've seen you navigate the boardwalk in six-inch heels after three margaritas. This'll be a cakewalk.”

She laughed, some of the tension easing from her frame. “What would I do without you, Bryson?”

The question transported me back to a cool October morning, twenty-odd years ago. I was in the third grade, and it was my first day at a new school. The school year was already a couple of months in, making it even harder to be the new kid. I heard whispers and a few giggles as Mrs. Hicks made me stand in front of the class and awkwardly introduce myself and then she seated me next to a little waif of a girl with blonde pigtails. The girl eyed me curiously but didn’t say anything.

At lunch, all the other boys sat together, laughing and talking around mouthfuls of food. They’d already made friends and didn’t seem particularly interested in making another one since none of them even bothered to speak to me. At recess, I found a quiet place to sit beneath a shade tree and opened my book, staring down at the pages and trying to ignore the ache of loneliness in my chest.

A pair of black Mary Janes moved into view, stopping in front of me. “Whatcha readin?”

I looked up at the owner of the voice and saw the little girl in pigtails. “Um…it’s the new Diary of a Wimpy Kid ,” I replied.

“Is it good?”

I shrugged, noncommittally. “Don’t know. I just started it.”

“Well, then let’s read it together,” she said, plopping down next to me and tucking her skirt around her skinny legs.

My eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t you want to go play with your friends?”

She gazed out at the other kids, running and climbing, swinging and chasing each other around the playground. “I don’t really have any,” she answered softly then she turned to look at me, her blue eyes seeming almost too big for her delicate face. “I’m new too.”

“Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know. The police came and got me. Said I needed to live with my Gran from now on. I haven’t seen them since,” she explained solemnly.

“Do you miss them?” I asked.

Her mouth turned down in a frown and she shook her head. “No. They weren’t very nice. Not like my Gran. She bakes me cookies and reads to me every night before bed.” Her frown morphed into a smile when she talked about her Gran, and I was glad she was living with her and not her mean parents.

“What about you? Where did you come from? I used to live in Tennessee. Are you from there too? Do you still live with your parents?”

My head spun at the rapid-fire questions, and I tried to decide which one to answer first. “I was born in Cleveland, but I don’t remember much about it. I never knew my dad. My mom didn’t take good care of me either, but I don’t have a Gran, so I had to go to foster care until my new parents came along and decided to adopt me.”

“Are they nice to you?”

I nodded. “Yeah. They’re great.”

Her smile was radiant, like all the light from the sun was actually coming from inside her and not from the sky. “I guess we both are happy now. Except for having no friends. But hey, you and I could be friends. Unless you don’t want to.”

She tried to hide it, but I could see the hope in her gaze, and I felt an instant connection, a kinship with this girl I’d just met. Maybe it was the things we had in common, or maybe it was the fact that she was the only person who’d talked to me all day, but I found myself smiling at her.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

And just like that, we became best friends, totally inseparable and one hundred percent loyal to each other. Her grandmother—Gran as we called her—was a sweet old lady who laughed a lot and liked to sing when she baked. She called me her honorary grandson and she became the grandparent I’d never had. Likewise, my parents had taken Brooke under their wings, loving her and treating her as if she were their own.

I blinked, focusing back on present-day Brooke. “Crash and burn, obviously,” I teased, earning a playful swat.

“Remember when Jason Tanner broke my heart in tenth grade?” she asked, her eyes far away. “You showed up at my house with a gallon of rocky road and a copy of My Best Friend's Wedding.”

I nodded, my chest tightening at the memory. “And you returned the favor two years later when I came out.” The words caught in my throat, emotions bubbling to the surface. “You were the first person I told.”

Brooke squeezed my hand. “I was so proud of you that day, Bryson. I still am.”

I swallowed hard, blinking back the moisture in my eyes. “Look at us now,” I said, gesturing to her wedding gown. “All grown up and getting married. Well, one of us anyway.”

“Your time will come,” she said softly. “Someday, you'll find a guy who appreciates how amazing you are.”

I shrugged, pushing down the familiar ache of loneliness. “Maybe. But today isn't about me.” I straightened her necklace, my OCD tendencies kicking in. “It's about you marrying the love of your life. Are you ready?”

Brooke took a deep breath, her smile radiant. “I've never been more ready for anything in my life.”

As I helped her to her feet, I marveled at how far we'd come from that first day of third grade. Through every high and low, every triumph and heartbreak, through the loss of her Gran and then each of my parents we'd been there for each other. And no matter where life took us next, I knew that would never change.

“You look amazing. Zach is one luck?—”

A commotion outside the door interrupted me. Loud footsteps approached, followed by a deep, apologetic voice. “Sorry I'm late! Traffic from the airport was a nightmare.” The door burst open, and in strode a tall, dark-haired man with piercing blue eyes and a kilowatt smile. Tucker Murphy, the best man, brother of the groom, and a pain in my ass.

I glanced at my watch, trying to keep my tone even. “You’re forty-five minutes late, Tucker. The ceremony’s about to start.”

His eyes flashed towards me, but his smile didn't falter. “Sounds like I’m just in time then.” He winked at Brooke. “You look stunning, sis-to-be.”

We’d met several times over the years and every time it was the same; I’d make sure everything was set up for whatever birthday or holiday we were celebrating, and Tucker would waltz in at the last second, charming everyone with his presence and annoying the hell out of me. Seriously, it was like the man didn’t even know how to tell time.

I bristled at his casual attitude, but I couldn't deny the man was infuriatingly attractive. His coal-black hair was artfully tousled, and his jawline looked like it had been chiseled from marble. Despite my annoyance, I found my gaze lingering on the light scruff along his jaw.

“Thanks, Tucker,” Brooke said warmly, giving him a hug. “I'm just glad you made it.”

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look away from the gorgeous man. “Yes, well, now that you're here, perhaps we can get this show on the road?”

Tucker's blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “Ah, Bryson Kelly. Punctual as usual, I see.” I rolled my eyes, but as I turned to guide Brooke out of the room, I felt a flutter of something in my chest.

As we took our positions on opposite sides of the aisle, I couldn't help but steal glances at Tucker. While I stood ramrod straight, hands clasped tightly in front of me, he seemed completely relaxed, looking for all the world like he was at a casual backyard barbecue rather than his brother's wedding.

I took a deep breath, trying to focus on Brooke as she glided down the aisle. But my gaze kept drifting back to the best man. His eyes were fixed on the groom, a genuine smile softening his features. Despite my irritation, I felt a familiar twinge of envy at his easy demeanor.

The ceremony passed in a blur, and before I knew it, we were seated at the head table for the reception. To my dismay, I found myself next to Tucker. “So, Bry,” he said, leaning in close enough that I caught the enticing scent of his cologne—a heady mix of sandalwood and lemongrass. “Do you ever allow yourself to relax, or are you always so meticulously composed?”

I nearly sputtered my champagne. “Pardon?”

He grinned warmly, his blue eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “I just think you might have more fun if you let your guard down a bit.”

I felt my cheeks warm, a blend of surprise and curiosity replacing any tension. “I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of having fun,” I replied, though the perfectly aligned silverware in front of me betrayed my habitual precision.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Is that why you’ve refolded your napkin three times in the last few minutes?”

I paused, realizing how true that was. “I just like things to be orderly,” I admitted softly.

“Life’s too short for perfect napkins, Bry,” he said, his tone gentle and playful. “Sometimes the best moments emerge from a bit of delightful chaos.”

I looked at him—really looked—and for a fleeting moment, I glimpsed something deeper beneath his carefree exterior. Then he winked, and the mystery returned, leaving me more intrigued than before. Before I could reply, he reached across the table and, with deliberate care, flicked over one of the delicate place cards I had spent hours perfecting. My eyes widened as I watched it topple.

“What are you doing?” I asked, half-amused as I picked it up and smoothed out the crease.

He shrugged, that ever-charming smile still in place. “Just adding a dash of unpredictability. Come on, Bry, live a little.”

I felt my pulse quicken. “It’s Bryson, actually. I’m sure I’ve reminded you of that at least a hundred times. And some of us find beauty in the details,” I murmured.

“Some of us also cherish the thrill of spontaneity,” he replied, his eyes alight with genuine interest. “Perhaps you’d see a broader picture if you allowed a little improvisation.”

Our faces drew so near that I could feel the warmth emanating from him. My heart raced—not solely from the tension of our repartee but also from the allure of something much more compelling. “You hardly know anything about me,” I said softly.

Tucker’s expression softened further. “Maybe I’d like to find out.”

Before I could gather my thoughts, the DJ announced it was time for the best man and man of honor dance. I sighed with an amused resignation. As we stepped onto the dance floor, I felt his hand settle on the small of my back, guiding me with an unspoken familiarity. The touch sent a shiver through me.

“I’ll lead,” he murmured as we faced each other.

“Okay,” I replied with a smile, my tone light and unguarded.

As we began to move, I became aware of every subtle connection between us—Tucker’s hand on my waist, mine on his shoulder, our fingers intertwining, and the soft brush of his thigh against mine. It was the closest we’d ever been to each other.

“Relax,” he whispered, his breath warm as it caressed my ear. “There’s a certain magic in letting go.”

I tried to ease into the rhythm, surprised by how natural it felt to be so close to him. As his scent enveloped me, I leaned in despite my usual reserve. “That's it,” he encouraged, drawing me even nearer. “See? It’s not so bad when you allow a little spontaneity into the moment.”

As we swayed to the music, I reluctantly admitted to myself that he might be right. For the first time all day, I wasn't worrying about every little detail. I was just...here. In the moment. With an undeniably sexy man. The realization both thrilled and terrified me.

As the dance ended, I quickly stepped away from him, my heart racing. I needed to focus on something else, anything else. Thankfully, it was time for my toast. Moving back to our table, I clinked my glass, my eyes meeting Brooke's. She beamed at me, and I felt a wave of love and nostalgia wash over me.

“Brooke,” I began, my voice thick with emotion, “we've been best friends since third grade, and I still remember the day we met. You walked right up to me, introduced yourself and said we should be friends” I paused as laughter rippled through the crowd. “Little did I know how much that moment would change my life.”

Her eyes glistened with tears as I continued, “You've been there for me through everything—my first heartbreak, coming out, and every success and failure in between. You're not just my best friend; you're my sister in every way that matters.”

I raised my glass. “To Brooke and Zach, may your love story be as beautiful and enduring as our friendship.”

As applause filled the room, I caught Tucker's eye. He was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read, something between admiration and... longing? I quickly looked away, unsettled by the intensity of his gaze.

I had barely sat down when he stood up, grinning mischievously. “Alright, everyone! Time to shake things up a bit. Let's have the newlyweds play a little game!”

My head snapped up. “What? That's not on the schedule,” I hissed.

He winked at me. “Sometimes the best moments are unplanned, Bry.”

I watched in horror as Tucker explained the rules of an impromptu “Newlywed Game” to Brooke and Zach, who looked delighted by the idea. The guests cheered, clearly loving this unexpected entertainment. Part of me wanted to be furious at him for derailing the carefully planned reception. But as I watched Brooke laugh uncontrollably at one of Zach's ridiculous answers, I couldn't deny that everyone was having a blast.

“See?” Tucker murmured, leaning close. “A little spontaneity never hurt anyone.”

I turned to him, torn between irritation and reluctant admiration. “I suppose you think you're clever,” I muttered.

“Oh, I know I am,” he replied with that infuriating grin. “Admit it. You're having fun too.” And as I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards despite my best efforts, I realized that maybe he was right.

As the reception wound down, I found myself leaning against the bar, nursing a glass of wine and watching the dwindling crowd. The soft glow of fairy lights cast a warm haze over everything, lending a dreamlike quality to the scene.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Brooke's voice startled me out of my reverie.

I turned to see her radiant face, her eyes sparkling with joy and maybe a hint of concern. “Just taking it all in,” I said, mustering a smile. “Married life looks good on you, Brookie. I'm so happy for you.”

She squeezed my arm gently. “Thank you for everything, Bryson. I couldn't have done this without you.”

As we stood there in comfortable silence, my mind wandered back through the years. “Remember when we used to play 'wedding' in your backyard?” I chuckled. “You always made me be the officiant because you said I was too bossy to be the groom.”

She laughed, the sound as familiar and comforting as a warm blanket. “Well, you did take your role very seriously. Always insisting we follow the exact script.”

“Some things never change, I guess,” I said, thinking of my meticulously planned schedule for today.

“Maybe not entirely,” Brooke said, her eyes twinkling. “But I saw you laughing during Tucker's impromptu game. Admit it, you had fun.”

I felt a flush creep up my neck. “It wasn't...terrible,” I conceded.

Just then, Zach appeared, wrapping an arm around Brooke's waist. “Ready to go, Mrs. Murphy?”

“Mrs. Murphy. I love the sound of that,” she gushed.

As they prepared to leave, a bittersweet ache settled in my chest. I was overjoyed for my best friend, truly. But watching them together, so in love and starting their new life, I couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness.

“Don't forget to catch the bouquet!” Brooke called out as they made their way to the exit.

I laughed, shaking my head. “I think I'll leave that to the bridesmaids.”

As I watched her bridesmaids scramble for the flowers, then the newlyweds got in the car and drove away, streamers trailing behind it, I felt a mix of emotions wash over me. Pride in my best friend's happiness, gratitude for our enduring friendship, and yes, a quiet longing for a love of my own.

“You okay?” Tucker's voice came from beside me, surprisingly gentle.

I turned to him, ready with a quip, but something in his expression made me pause. “Yeah,” I said softly. “Just...dreaming a little, I guess.”

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Nothing wrong with that. Dreams have a funny way of coming true when you least expect it.”

As we stood there, watching the taillights fade into the distance, I found myself wondering if maybe, just maybe, Tucker was right about that too.