“Your family is great,” I say. The kind of family I grew up envying: stable, successful parents; a whole mess of siblings.

“They are,” he says fondly. “They’re also a lot.”

“It must have been fun growing up with all those brothers.”

Though I found them a little intimidating, exuding success and masculinity in their tailored suits. Ryan left his tie and jacket at the party, and now he’s unbuttoned his top button and rolled up his shirtsleeves. His hair, which was neatly combed at the start of the night, has reverted to its usual floppy state, and it makes him look more like himself. All evening, it’s been difficult to remember that this handsome, imposing man is the same guy who wears tortoiseshell glasses and cardigans and a lanyard covered in ridiculous pins. The same guy I’ve been competing against for weeks.

Real life seems far away, here on a beach in the moonlight with the waves whispering against the sand.

“Fun is one way to put it,” he says. “Being the youngest meant I was always the butt of the jokes. And now, being the only one still single…” He grimaces. “Champagne?”

“Please,” I say. He fills a plastic cup halfway, then hands it to me before filling his own. “So I hate to bring up a sore subject, but…why are you single?”

Ryan chokes on his champagne. “Not you, too!”

“Sorry!” I say, laughing. “But it doesn’t make sense. You’re tall, you have a job, you have adequate personal hygiene—”

“Thanks?”

“—so maybe you don’t want to be tied down? Is that it?”

“Oh, I’d love to be tied down.”

I press my lips together, fighting an unexpected vision of Ryan, his giant body sprawled in bed with silk ties on his wrists. “Kinky,” I murmur.

“Not like that.” Even in the darkness, I can tell he’s blushing. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it, in the right scenario…” He shakes his head and sighs. “Okay, starting over. It’s more that—well, you saw my parents together.”

“They’re cute.” Smiling at each other with hearts in their eyes, even after fifty years.

“I guess I’m looking for what they have.” He sounds wistful.

I take another sip of champagne, the bubbles tickling my throat. “What was it like, growing up with parents who adore each other?”

“Wonderful,” he says immediately. “It’s an incredible gift to give your children, a solid and healthy marriage between their parents.”

“But…?”

“But it’s a lot to live up to.” He looks out at the horizon, the moon hanging low over the water. “They’re meant for each other. I grew up assuming I’d find that, too, that it would land in my lap and I would know, like my Dad did.”

“And it hasn’t?”

“No,” he says flatly. “And I’d rather be single than put myself in that position again.”