“No crying,” I agreed, even though my eyes were a little shimmery. “Are you nervous?”

“I know I should be,” she said as she led me into her massive living room. This suite was even nicer than mine. It was decorated in off-white leather, black marble, and dark wood, with red accent carpets. “And maybe I am a little nervous. But this just feels right. I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing, and that’s a fantastic feeling.”

“I’m so glad. You deserve all of this and more.” I looked out at the Vegas Strip, where lights of different colors danced and twinkled through her windows. “I can’t believe you convinced Allan to say yes to all this.”

“I know he loves the way I nag him and talk him into things. He’s never actually said as much, but I can read his nonverbal subtext.”

That made me laugh, and I asked her, “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

“Distract me. Tell me about how things are going with Noah. For real. Not the friend thing you keep telling yourself.”

She wanted me to be honest. Maybe that was something I should be doing with everyone. “We’ve never talked about us being in a relationship. We’re both really clear that this is just friends.”

“Trust me, he does not want to be just your friend.”

“No interrupting,” I told her. “I’m trying to open up here. Anyway, I don’t know what he wants or if he’s happy for things to keep being how they have been. But he makes me feel . . .” What was the best way to put it into words? “He makes me feel like a little piece of metal slowly making its way toward the overpowering magnet in the center of the room.”

“Like resistance is feudal.”

“Feudal?” I said with a laugh. “I think you mean futile. Although a feudal resistance would be pretty cool. Lots of swords and pitchforks.”

“I know the right word. Maybe I’m more nervous than I thought,” she said, putting her hand over her stomach. Her phone beeped, and she looked at it. “The boys already left and our car is here, down in the lobby.”

“Noah really thought of everything, didn’t he?”

“So did Allan. Look at this.” She pointed at the small table in front of us, and I saw a bouquet of daisies. Her favorite.

“So sweet,” I said, handing the flowers to her. “So if that’s everything, we should get going.”

“Wait!” She stood up. “That’s not everything. I need that bridal poem thing. Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.”

“Okay. Your dress is borrowed. And I’m your oldest friend, so I can be your something old.”

She smiled. “Right. And my earrings are new—Allan gave them to me as a wedding gift.”