Chapter 2
Theo Monroe, aka a guy who does his best to not get himself into these situations when it’s important, but who generally has zero regrets
Uncle Owen’s dares aren’t usually quite so lit. They’re normally more low-key, like the time we left a bunch of mice all over the park.
Taxidermy mice. Just so we’re clear on that.
Once people were done freaking out, we went viral on Instagram as the Colorado mouse town. Even had those national news people in to interview everyone, who pretended they had no idea where so many taxidermy mice would’ve come from.
This one could end with similar attention. Decker Sullivan was recording it.
Not that setting a flamingo costume on fire and being shoved into the pool by my sister’s straight-laced best friend was my intention .
Funny shit happens when I’m around.
It’s pretty awesome being me.
Or so I’m thinking as I surface.
And then I shake the water out of my eyes, slick my hair back, and spot the look of utter grief on Emma’s face as she tries to nudge Chandler further away from the pool. And me.
Fuck .
Lucky Sullivan, another of the Sullivan triplets, is apparently oblivious to the bride and groom’s reactions.
He’s grinning while he offers me a hand to help me out of the pool.
“Can’t just set yourself on fire, can you?
Have to get yourself rescued by the last person I’d ever guess would go into a pool fully clothed to help your ass. Classic, man. Classic.”
I grin back at him, actively choosing to ignore the horrified looks from everyone behind him. It’s not just Em now. It’s pretty much everyone in Chandler’s extended family who are down here with us. “What can I say? Trouble likes me.”
He snorts.
I grin bigger and almost fall back in the pool while I try to pull myself out.
This blow-up costume’s awkward when it’s wet. Who knew?
“Careful next time,” Jack Sullivan, triplet number three, is saying as he pulls Delaney Kingston out of the pool a few feet away. “That thing’s battery-operated. Not enough juice in a couple double-A’s to shock the pool, but you definitely don’t want to take a chance with electricity and water.”
“Well, when my options were electrocution with double-A batteries or watching Emma’s brother explode in flames, I went with the lower risk.”
“Stick in the mud,” Lucky mutters.
“Which one?” I reply.
He chokes on another laugh while I drag the rest of my flat, dead costume out of the pool.
I start to chuckle too, but then I catch sight of Emma again.
Tossing another frustrated frown my way like this is one more thing I’ve done on purpose to make her fiancé miserable.
Like I was supposed to know he’d get seasick when I offered to take everyone deep-sea fishing this morning.
Or that his video screen was broken on the plane and he spent the entire flight watching the movies I picked since he was behind me, and that I apparently spoiled the ending of the latest Avengers movie for him.
Lucky glances their way and sighs too. “Don’t get it, dude,” he says. “Chandler’s not usually tighter than an inflamed sphincter, yet here we are, in paradise…”
“Not hearing this,” I reply. Last thing any of us need is Chandler’s groomsmen turning on him. Dude has issues. Needs some wingmen this week. But not me. Definitely not me. “Go be on his side.”
“Shouldn’t be sides.”
“There’s always sides. Don’t tell Emma.” Chandler’s not my favorite person in the world, but I’m not marrying him.
Emma is.
Her choice. Her right. He’s made her happy more years than not. I’ll play nice for her sake.
“Bar later?” Lucky asks.
I sneak another glance at my sister, who’s now comforting Chandler like he was the one who almost had his face melted off because of a bug zapper and drink umbrella malfunction.
I shake my head at Lucky. “Groomsman duties for you, my friend. We’ll hook up next week at home.”
“I’ll text you if he goes to bed early. There’s a karaoke bar down the way.”
“Fuck, yeah.” I love karaoke.
“If who goes to bed early?” Decker asks as he approaches too. Guess Chandler’s mom has recovered from the horror of seeing the flamingo die a flaming death and no longer needs to cling to him while he records everything.
“You,” Lucky says. “You’re too boring for bars.”
Both of them crack up.
I would too—messing around with these guys is generally my thing—but Emma’s giving me another look.
The please just give him space look.
And she doesn’t mean any of the triplets.
That look hits me in a spot that hasn’t been super vulnerable since high school. Been a long time since I felt this level of guilt creeping in. But here we are. In paradise, where everything was fine five minutes ago, before Chandler set me on fire with a present I gave him.
So I sneezed.
Everyone sneezes.
Apparently I need to not sneeze the rest of this week though.
Time to regroup.
“Have fun tonight,” I tell Lucky and Decker while I pull myself to standing, bringing my sopping wet costume with me to cover my underwear.
The triplets all seem to realize we’re the only ones enjoying ourselves on the pool deck, and a collective sigh goes up among the three of them.
Identical sighs, much like they’re all brown-haired, white-skinned, blue-eyed identical triplets. Pretty easy to tell them apart once you get to know their personalities though.
Even Jack’s sighing as he finishes pulling Delaney to her feet too.
“Remind me to elope if I ever find the woman of my dreams,” Lucky says. “This wedding stuff is dumb stress.”
“Like anyone would have you,” Decker says.
“Fuck, yeah, they would. I’m the pretty one of the three of us.”
I’d normally laugh at that.
They would too. Instead, both of them sigh again.
“You going out anywhere for real?” Decker asks me.
“Nope.” I am definitely hitting a bar somewhere tonight. But I’m not taking them along.
Might make Chandler sad to get jilted by his groomsmen.
Can’t have that.
I give Em a tiny salute of I’ll get out of your hair , then nod to Delaney. “Thanks for the save. Owe you one next time you catch on fire.”
Her nostrils twitch. “Happy to help.”
Total teacher’s pet answer.
As expected.
She starts to say something else, but I head around the pool like I didn’t notice.
If Chandler’s sphincter’s too tight this week, Delaney Kingston’s has been too tight since before she was born.
Not her fault. Probably. But it will be my fault if I hang out here and annoy her more after taking her for a fully-clothed dunk in the pool. Nothing like getting on the groom’s and the bridesmaid’s bad sides.
So the best I can do is make myself scarce.
Claire, Em’s blonde sorority friend and another bridesmaid, lifts her brows and smiles at me as I pass her. “Nothing’s boring when you’re around, is it?”
I wink. “Boring’s for other people.”
She smiles wider and opens her mouth like she’s about to ask if we can be not boring together.
I remember Emma’s disappointed in me, and I continue on my way.
This week’s weird. Not that I don’t put Emma first on a regular basis, but this week is extra . And apparently I haven’t toned myself down enough yet to make the couple of the hour happy.
“Okay, son?” my dad asks as I hit the edge of the pool area.
“Barely singed,” I report with a grin.
Uncle Owen cracks up. Dad sighs and shakes his head while I keep going.
He wasn’t meant to be a single dad. Definitely not to two middle schoolers and then high schoolers. But he does his best, and that’s all we can ask.
And I know he adores Emma as much as I do.
She’s such a genuinely good person that you can’t help but be happy for her when she’s happy, even if you don’t understand things like how Chandler Sullivan makes her happy.
You still want to stand in her glow. You want to be the reason she’s glowing, because the brighter she glows, the more the world is a better place.
Not my time to be in her glow though. This is my time to give her space.
Sucks, honestly.
She’s one of my favorite people in the entire world.
And this week, I am not hers.
Feels way too much like being in high school again.
I’m trying to shake it off, reminding myself weddings are stupidly stressful and life will go back to normal next week as I head down the coconut-tree-lined path to my bungalow.
“So that was a nice, refreshing dip,” Delaney Kingston says when I’m nearly there.
Ah.
So that’s who’s huffing along behind me.
Her bungalow must be this way too.
And I probably owe her an apology for her unexpected pool dip, courtesy of me.
Don’t want to give it to her though.
“Hey, Princess Plainy-Laney.” I grin at her over my shoulder like she’s not the only other person from back home besides Chandler who can make me twitch today. “Like your shoes. They squeak real nice.”
“Bonus feature. They’re supportive and musical.”
Huh.
That’s an unexpected response.
Would’ve thought I’d get an eye roll and a lecture on not taking paper umbrellas near electrified bug zappers. You want a rule followed, a problem solved, or a lecture about how the world is supposed to work, you go to Laney.
You don’t go to Laney for jokes. She’s the type who wouldn’t know fun if it landed on her desk in a brown manila envelope clearly labeled fun .
Once saw her refuse to go sledding because there weren’t nets at the bottom of the hill.
Was voted in high school as the most likely to live to a hundred and six because she flosses every day.
No heart disease taking her out early due to inflamed gums.
I have not missed seeing Delaney Kingston since she quit showing up to parties on my side of town and I quit dropping into bars and restaurants on her side of town.
She’s one of Emma’s best friends though, so I’ll be nice if it kills me. I grin back at her again. Add a wink. “You need help carrying your bag to your room?”
“That’s so kind, but I can see you already have your hands full, and it’s just a purse.”
“Just a purse? That’s a purse the size of a suitcase. Wouldn’t take anything at all to drop this costume and carry that for you.”