He drained his wine and poured some more. Drank that down fast, too. Looked at Pebbles. “She wants me to kiss someone. A woman. You don’t count, sorry.” He raked his hands through his hair, tugging.

He knew how her mind worked, and in Lauren’s head, it all made perfect sense. A nice kiss, just to get it over with. Enough of a kiss to—maybe—stir some feelings, even if they were simple lust.

He did miss kissing. God, he missed it. He missed sex and hugging and touching, and laughing and her hair, and her softness, and her breasts and her legs and her feet and her neck. He missed kissing every part of her. “There is nothing hornier than a marathon makeout session,” she used to say, her voice breathless, face and throat flushed, rosy with love.

He called Radley. “Got time for a drink?” he asked.

“I do! Where?”

An hour later, he and Radley sat at the Eddy, the type of bar that had drinks containing egg whites and burnt rosemary and eucalyptus-infused ice cubes, which Josh knew because he was sipping one right now. Liquid courage and all that. He could see why Lauren and her friends had loved “drinkies,” as they called it.

Radley, who had chosen a much more manly drink—Coopers’ Craft bourbon, straight up—was delighted at the letter’s task. “God! I wish I’d met her! She sounds like an angel with a dirty sense of humor.”

“That’s a perfect description.”

“So how do you feel about this?”

Josh cut him a look. “Please, no therapy tonight.”

Radley laughed. “Okay. Why am I here, other than the fact that I make you look cooler?”

“Do you know anyone who would kiss me?”

“I would kiss you. Right here, right now.”

Josh laughed. “That’s very kind.”

“A woman, huh?” He tapped his black metal ring against his glass. “Do you like this ring, by the way? I’m thinking it’s a little much.”

“I like it.”

“Okay, good. You look nice, by the way, but untuck your shirt a little, like this, so you don’t look like my grandfather.” He reached over and tugged Josh’s shirt on the left side so it hung free, then took a sip of his bourbon. “Five more months at Banana Republic, and then I’ll be a licensed therapist. I cannot wait. I’ll have an advanced degree and can fix people for a living.” He smiled, and Josh smiled back.

“That’s great, Radley.” I’m proud of you, he wanted to say, but who was he to be proud? He’d had nothing to do with it. “Um, it’s really impressive. Working and going to school full-time . . . it’s a lot.” He paused. “And also, you’re a good friend.”

“True, true,” Radley murmured. “Throw me a party in your fab apartment when I graduate?”

“Of course. I’ll even cook.”