The morning is a blur of tables, chairs, and Ollie's non-stop chatter. Fourth of July at the Sullivans is always chaos, and Mom thrives on it. It's her thing. She runs the show, and the rest of us just follow orders. Ollie and I haul another set of chairs onto the lawn. The July sun beats down mercilessly, while sweat trickles down my back and humidity wrap around us like a suffocating blanket.

"So," I say, wiping my hands on my shorts, fighting for casual. "You and Mia? What happened while we were gone?"

Ollie's signature smirk appears as he adjusts the chairs. "I don't kiss and tell, pal."

"Come on," I prod, leaning against the table. "You're walking around on cloud nine right now. What’s the deal?”

He straightens, and something shifts in his expression—a rare moment of genuine vulnerability that catches me off guard.

“Fine. I really like her, man. Like, wife, kids, the whole deal kind of like her."

I bark out a laugh, but his expression doesn't waver. "Shit, you're serious."

"Dead serious, asshole." He folds his arms, but there's a lightness in his eyes. "Keep giving me shit, and you can kiss that Best Man title goodbye."

"Well, fuck me. Ollie-boy is going to beat us all to the altar."

"Shut up," he replies, throwing a cloth napkin at me, but I see it in his eyes—he's already picturing that future, and honestly? It suits him.

"For real though," I say, my voice softening. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks for your blessing," he says, and beneath the sarcasm, I hear genuine appreciation.

We continue pulling out chairs according to Mom's meticulous seating chart when Ollie clears his throat.

"Hey, uh, heads up about Jake," he adds, his tone shifting. "He came home late last night. Seemed pretty pissed about you and Nora at that concert. I told him it was a last-minute plan, for her birthday and all."

My muscles tense involuntarily. "Where is he?"

"Store run, I think." Ollie starts saying something else, but my attention scatters the moment I spot Nora. Everything else fades to white noise.

"I'll be back."

"You're not seriously leaving me to finish this, are you?" Ollie's voice follows me, but I'm already gone, drawn like a magnet to its pole.

Nora's in the kitchen, wearing a yellow dress that hug her curves in all the right places. It makes my blood surge hot. Her smile hits me like a physical fucking blow, threatening to knock me flat on my ass. Without thinking, I cross the room, grab her hand and pull her into the laundry room, door clicking shut behind us.

Her startled gasp mingles with my thundering pulse. Those wide eyes lock on mine, her chest rising in shallow breaths that match my own frantic rhythm.