“What the hell are you smiling at?”

I startle from my thoughts, looking up from my glass of whiskey to see Harley sitting beside me again, this time lifting a bottle of beer to his lips. I can feel my cheeks blush of their own accord, giving me away completely, and I try to hide my smile behind my glass as I look straight ahead at nothing in particular. “I was just thinking of that first day,” I admit. “Back in fourth grade when you flushed Billy Connor’s head down the toilet.”

Harley chuckles to himself at the memory.

“That was the day we all became friends.” I look at him, seeing him nod as he stares down at his beer with a faraway smile of his own, and I know he knows it too. It wasn’t just the day we became friends; Nash, Harley and me, we became family that day. It was the day my whole life changed.

Chapter 3

I stand in front of the mirror that hangs on the back of my closet door, staring at my reflection with serious contempt. You know when you’re hoping for a particular look, and you really think you’re going to pull it off, but then you see yourself and wish you’d thought things through better? Well, that’s me right now. I’d driven forty miles, all the way to Chelmer, to the Westfield because it has a Macy’s, and I spent a couple hundred bucks on my outfit for tonight. I wanted something sleek and sexy, sophisticated and elegant. Something not at all like my usual self. But contact lenses always make my eyes burn like hell, and I simply cannot get away with wearing a bodycon dress with hips like mine.

The first thing to go is the contacts. Straight in the trash. I’ve worn glasses since I was five years old and, unfortunately, they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. I tug off the constricting dress that feels like it’s suffocating me, and I toss it to the floor before rifling through my closet.

Finally, I’m dressed in a navy dress that sits mid-thigh and flares out from the waist, concealing my hips, thighs and butt. I team it with my shiny red Mary Janes to add a splash of color, and I wear my tortoiseshell glasses. Painting my lips a cherry red to match my heels, I leave my auburn hair natural, falling around my shoulders.

I look at myself in the mirror for a long time, taking in every little detail of my outfit. Unlike the look I’d been hoping for, it definitely isn’t sleek, sexy, sophisticated or elegant, but then, neither am I. And I can’t pretend to be someone I’m truly not. I’d never pull it off and it would only end in embarrassment. And tonight’s the night I’m meeting the woman who is marrying the love of my life. The beautiful, wonderful, perfect Annabelle Victoria Hutchins, at least that’s the impression I get from the social media profiles I’ve spent the best part of the last twenty-four hours stalking. She’s literally perfect, and beautiful, and everything in between. I can’t possibly risk embarrassing myself. Not tonight. Not in front of her.