“How could I not? You stole my favorite Micron once and you chewed the end to pieces. Those pens aren’t cheap, Fowler.”

“Oh, sorry … I didn’t even realize.”

It’s whatever; I keep a stock of the pens because I love them so much. You never know when your most reliable brand might disappear one day.

“Okay, I played your game,” I say. “Now what do you know about me?”

“You didn’t know that much,” he tells me.

“Stop changing the subject.”

Wyatt folds his hands, covering his mouth, while he looks up at the ceiling. “Your favorite color is black.”

“You’ve been through my closet?”

“Your wardrobe is like ninety percent black, dude. It’s depressing.”

I wave him off. “Next. Something less obvious.”

Wyatt smirks again. “You hate olives.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because every time you get a Greek salad in the cafeteria, you pick the olives out.”

“You watch me eat?”

“Not of my own accord, I promise you. Plus, I can always tell when you eat a salad in our room because there are black olives left in my trash can.”

“I don’t like the smell,” I say. It’s too salty. “Your trash can is far enough away.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Eventually our waiter comes back and we ask for water. Then both of us dive into the bread basket when it’s left behind. I think we’re hungrier than we realized. Even just the smell of the butter and the garlic is enough to make my mouth water.

“So …” Wyatt says, picking at a piece of bread chunk by chunk. “What do I have to look forward to the rest of this week?”

“Well, tomorrow we have a brunch with all my family who are coming in late. Then I need to get fitted for my suit, so we can get that done for you as well.”

“I told you, I don’t want a suit.”

“And I told you, you’re getting one. Even if it’s a rental.” Though, if it’s going on Mom’s bill for this whole weekend, I’d prefer it if Wyatt got something nice out of all of this. He’d probably appreciate a good suit. “You have to look presentable.”

“Whatever.”

“We’re not busy tomorrow night or Monday. So maybe we can go out, see some sights.” Thankfully, there’s no reason for underage me to be involved in the bridal shower or the bachelor and bachelorette parties.

“That’d be fun.”

“Another luncheon on Tuesday, then some wedding photos. The rehearsal dinner after that. Then the wedding on Thursday. Our return flight is on Saturday, so we’ve got some spare time at the end of the week. That’s all.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Cool it, smartass.” I pick at the bread some more.

The door to the restaurant keeps opening and closing, letting in this slight chill every few minutes. And every single time, I look up, expecting to see Josh. His brother got here shortly after us. But Josh wasn’t with him.