“Thanks, man.” Tucker nodded in my direction.

I smiled as I relaxed against the seat and stretched out my legs. “Not a problem.”

“You should have let us throw you a bachelor party. It’s bad luck not to see some tatas before your big day,” Chris called out, causing the driver to glance in his rearview mirror at us.

“I don’t want to go see some washed-up old lady swing around on a pole. I have the chick I want.”

“Very noble of you, man, but I’d like to see some old naked chicks swing on a pole. Think of your friends, dude,” Terry joked, and we all laughed.

“I told you we can do it in a few days . . . as long as Cass can come along.”

“Why would you want to subject yourself to that?” Terry asked.

“She’s going to be my wife.”

“Could you imagine Donna in a strip club?” I laughed and shook my head as I tried to picture her uptight ass sitting in front of the stage. Even the more loosened-up version of Donna that seemed to be sticking around these days didn’t fit in with that scene.

“It looks like you are imagining it, pervert.” Chris laughed and hit me on the arm.

“Fuck off, man. It’s not like that.”

The car slowed to a stop when we reached the church, and Tucker took a deep breath as we all stared at him.

A large smile spread across his face. “I’m not gonna change my mind, guys. Let’s do this.”

The driver pulled open the door and we all exited. He had parked out back, and thankfully no assholes with cameras were there to greet us. Given how stressed out I was this morning, this was a good thing. I didn’t need to be arrested for assault and miss the wedding of my best friend.

We filed inside the small, dimly lit building. It looked more like a post office than a church. I was shocked it didn’t burst into flames as I entered. The priest greeted us as we walked in. He pulled Tucker to the side so they could speak privately and pointed to a room off to the left that we could wait in. We had ordered snacks and beverages to be ready for us while we waited, and they were lined up on a small card table against the wall. I still had my bottle of Jack, which I held down at my side so the preacher couldn’t see it. I knew it was sometimes part of religious ritual to drink wine in church, but I wasn’t sure how they felt about something a little harder.

The holding room had a few foldout chairs and old paintings of Jesus on the cross. I wasn’t a religious person, but I could certainly understand why so many people are. Knowing someone else was looking out for you and would have your back was comforting. But that didn’t work for me. My thoughts always drifted to my little brother, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t understand where God was on the day he had died.

I unscrewed the lid to my bottle and took a healthy sip. The liquid no longer burned. My body was growing numb to its effects.

Terry walked up beside me, his hands folded over his chest as he nodded his chin toward the old oil painting. “Whatchya thinking about?” he asked, his eyes dipping down to the bottle in my hand before he looked back to the picture.

“Life . . . death . . . shit.” My words were beginning to slur and I knew it was time to cut myself off. I didn’t want to forget this day with Cass and Tucker.

“That’s deep, man.” Terry reached down and took the bottle from me with a grin on his face. “I think we should slow down a bit.”

After a long pause he rubbed his hand hard over his freshly shaved chin as if deep in thought. “You ever wonder what Donna looks like naked?”

I shook my head and walked away, mumbling expletives under my breath. The guys were constantly ragging on me about Donna ever since they’d plotted to set us up a few months ago. They thought a game of pool and a few drinks would make me forget that Sarah was right next to me, and that she was back with that scumbag Derek, a jerk that didn’t even come close to deserving a woman like her. I was thankful they did though, because that had been the turning point for me and Donna—when she’d started loosening up and opening up with me a little. I grabbed a bag of pretzels from Chris and shoved my hand in to grab a few. He yanked the bag back out of my hand with a laugh.

The door swung open and Tucker stepped inside, glancing behind him before letting the door close.

“You look like you saw a ghost,” I joked as I shoved a pretzel in my mouth.

“I sort of did.” He ran his hand over his hair, causing it to stick up haphazardly.

“You didn’t see Cass in her dress, did you? That chick will flip the fuck out if you pull some bad-luck shit like that.”

“No, not Cass. You know she invited some old friends to come. She didn’t mention it because she didn’t think they would be able to make it with their crazy schedule.”

I pushed him aside as I pulled open the door and glanced out of the crack to the pews. My heart stopped as my eyes landed on Sarah. She was wearing a baby-blue dress to match the color scheme of the wedding. I rarely ever saw her in anything besides black, and it took my breath away. She looked beautiful, a softer side of her—one that people rarely got to see—shining through. I almost didn’t see Derek at her side, his hand on her lower back, dangerously close to grabbing her ass. Dick.

Tucker pulled me back and the door shut again in front of my eyes. I squeezed them closed, wishing I hadn’t drunk so many shots.

“It’s fine,” I lied with a smile as I threw my hands in the air. “So I thought she was cute. No big deal. You could have told me she was coming.”

Chris shook his head and glanced over at Terry.

“For fuck’s sake, guys. I’m not a lovesick puppy. I could give a fuck about Sarah and her shitty boyfriend. We’re just friends. Were friends. Whatever, it was never anything more than that.”

“All right, man.” Tucker shrugged and forced a smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”

I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes, taking in a deep, calming breath. I wasn’t going to let some chick fuck with my head. Not today. Cass and Tucker didn’t need my pointless drama. Sarah was smiling and didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the contact between her and Derek. She was . . . happy. I was going to do my best to pretend I was happy, too.

“I need some air.” I pushed out of the door before anyone could stop me. I knew they thought I was going to make a scene, but I didn’t care. I felt as if the walls were closing in on me, and that picture of Jesus staring at me was beginning to creep me out. It felt as if he were silently judging me as he hung on that wall . . . on that cross.

I didn’t glance Sarah and Derek’s way as I stepped out of the front doors of the church and pulled my cigarettes and lighter from my pocket. I didn’t realize my mistake before it was too late. I should have gone out the back. Instead, I was face-to-face with the same asshole photographer from the hotel lobby. He grinned as he raised his camera to his face and snapped a pic.

I lit my cigarette, desperately trying to bite my tongue. The door opened behind me and Sarah stepped out next to me. The tightening in my chest was painful, and trying to convince myself, once again, that she was just a friend—if that anymore—was nearly impossible. I wanted to reach out and touch her smooth skin, wrap my arms around her, and bury my face in her hair, but she had stopped returning my texts or calls months ago without ever explaining why—though I could venture that it had something to do with Derek.

But I had no idea where our relationship stood anymore. The thought of her being able to dismiss me so easily was too much, and I pushed the idea away and focused on the cigarette that glowed hot in my hand. The photographer began to yell questions at us, asking if we were together.

“Long time no see.” She sighed loudly as she stared off at the street.

I nodded, squinting in the bright sunlight. It was overbearingly warm out and my stomach began to turn from the alcohol. “How’ve you been?” I asked, still unable to look at her. It was no secret I had a thing for her, and if everyone else could see it, I knew she could, too.