“Happy for you, man.” He meant that.

“You’ll have that too. I know it!” Eric pointed with his chin. “Ask her to dance.”

He expected Cherisse to toss her wing bones at him if he even breathed too close to her. Asking her to dance seemed life-threatening. The drinks had been accepted, that didn’t mean she wanted him all up in her space to dance. Why the hell would she after what he’d thoughtlessly said to that blogger?

“Nah. I don’t have a death wish.”

Eric pouted. “Just let my OTP sail, man.”

“I have no idea what that means, but it’s not happening.”

Still, he observed Cherisse as she danced with Scott, body limber, movements growing more relaxed with each drink she downed. There’d been a time when he’d been outright jealous of Scott’s easy way with Cherisse. He knew nothing but friendship would come of it. Scott was gay and hung up on someone else. Someone who wasn’t Keiran. Both things had irked him at the time, even as he’d scolded himself for caring. It hadn’t helped any of the confusion he’d been dealing with. Teenage Cherisse had been aloof with him, didn’t even give him the time of day, but Scott? Got the biggest of smiles, the tightest of hugs. After things didn’t go as expected with Scott—he still cringed at that day he’d almost imploded their friendship—his teen self had been bitter at the attention his best friend showered on Cherisse. Irrationally so, which didn’t help the tenuous relationship he and Cherisse had.

Then he’d foolishly somehow slowly fallen into crushing on Cherisse. The worst idea. That also hadn’t helped his panic over discovering he wasn’t straight.

He watched as Scott and Cherisse pretended to twirl each other now, her head thrown back as her body shook with genuine laughter. Ava came over and pulled Eric back on the dance floor, leaving him alone to watch. Keiran had danced a bit with Julia earlier, but it felt a bit as if everyone was punishing him for messing up. The bridesmaids, for sure. His own damn fault, but it was getting to him.

He found himself drifting closer as Scott and Cherisse kept at it. Their movements grew bigger and wider—no doubt they were having fun—until Scott whirled over to him, and Keiran suddenly found his arms filled with an equally surprised Cherisse as Scott shouted, “Bathroom! Take over for me!”

She blinked up at him but was either too shocked or tipsy to move out of his embrace. “Uh.” She peered around him, watching Scott hustle away.

Keiran, too aware of Cherisse in his space, was at a loss for what his next action should be. Release her and go back to being a pariah? She hadn’t moved away yet, but he should. Except the feel of the soft skin of Cherisse’s arm under his made it hard to do anything but hold on, and for once, she wasn’t looking at him as if he was something unpleasant that had gotten stuck to the bottom of her shoe.