My eyes shift toward the floor number, counting down until we reach the lobby.

“You know,” Josh says, “for what it’s worth, you and Wyatt are really cute together.”

Oh.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I’ll admit that I was pretty jealous when I saw the two of you together, but it’s clear you’ve got something special.”

“Um … thanks.”

The elevator door finally opens, and we both step outside.

“I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course.” I watch him walking away. Then—and I have no idea why—I call for him again. “Hey, Josh?”

He turns.

“Uh … it was good to talk to you.”

He smiles, a confused expression on his face.

“Good to see you too, Neil.”

I watch as Josh plugs in his AirPods and runs off on his jog, avoiding the people on the sidewalk.

I don’t have the energy to walk far, so I just grab Chipotle. By the time I get back, Wyatt is a little more wired, and he looks at me excitedly.

“You’re back!”

“Sorry, the line was long.”

“Forget the food!” His voice is overly excited, like he downed an entire pot of coffee before I got here. “I think I’ve got the perfect song to sing for the dance.”

“Oh yeah?” I set our bag of burritos and chips on the coffee table as Wyatt pats the space next to him for me to take a seat. I wonder if he’s thought at all about the kiss, if he’s thinking about it as much as I am. Were my lips soft enough? Did my breath stink? Have I fooled myself this entire time into thinking that I’m a good kisser when I’m actually hilariously bad at it?

“What’d you pick?” I ask.

“Here. It was so obvious—I can’t believe it’s taken me hours to decide.”

“What is it?”

“Just listen.” He readies his guitar.

He strums a familiar melody with his fingers and his pick. He taps his foot to imitate the drum kicks, and after a few seconds, he starts to sing.

“I want to play this for you all the time, I want to play this for you when you’re feeling used and tired—”

His singing is just as magical as the first time I heard it, the first time he sang to me. There’s this intensity behind his eyes when he’s playing, like it’s his favorite thing in the world, a second home for him.

He only sings a few lines before the song and the guitar fade away.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect.”

*  *  *

While we’re eating, Wyatt finds a Star Wars marathon on TNT that’s supposedly lasting all week. I tell him that we can just watch them commercial free with my Disney+ account, but he’s adamant that we watch it on cable.