“Nothing,” I insisted. “She’s not worth my job, and the Felix wedding is the biggest event I’ve ever handled. If Addison wasn’t slammed with a Hilton wedding of her own, she never would have given me so much responsibility. And I’m not going to waste a shot at impressing my boss just because Brock can’t keep his pants on.”

Ivy chuckled.

“I mean it. Without a belt, I think his pants would slip right off that tiny ass of his and hit the ground. Why didn’t anyone tell me his ass was so small? It looks like the end of a hot dog bun. Maybe he should have opted for butt implants instead.”

Another laugh, this one hard enough for Ivy to rest her hand on her drum-tight belly.

“You don’t think Natasha came onto him, do you?” Dean asked.

“Oh, I’m sure she did,” I said on a tight, humorless laugh. “She’s taken home somebody from every meeting we’ve had. Angelika brings her sisters—and the Felix Femmes camera crew—everywhere with her. But it’s not her fault Brock is a shitbag. If he’d loved me like I thought he did, he would have walked away from Natasha without a second thought. Like you two. I’m guessing you don’t even have a Hall Pass list, do you?”

“Hall Pass?” Dean’s brows quirked.

Ivy smiled sideways. “You know, a list of celebrities you could sleep with without consequences.”

“That’s weird,” he said, lip curling. He turned to Ivy. “You’re not allowed to sleep with anybody else. Even Zac Efron.”

Ivy’s expression turned all goopy as she cupped his jaw. “Aw, see? He even knows my celebrity crushes.”

“I’m not kidding,” he said, his face as serious as his tone. “If Zac Efron came here right now, begging you for just one night with a check for a million bucks in hand, I’d crumple it up and punch it down his throat.”

“This,” I said, gesturing to them. “This is a prime example of why Brock and I were all wrong for each other. I’d just convinced myself it was perfect, and he played the part of the perfect boyfriend. But he wouldn’t take a bullet for me. He wouldn’t sacrifice what he wanted for my sake. Not in a million years. I just wish I’d figured it out sooner.” My throat tightened, and I swallowed to open it up. “Thank you. For letting me crash.”

“Always,” Ivy said.

Dean stood, making his way around the couch. “I’ll get the bed ready and make sure the closet’s cleaned out.”

“Thank you,” I said with a weary sigh and a grateful heart. “I didn’t want to go to a hotel,” was the most I’d admit.

But my sister knew the truth: I didn’t want to be alone.