Harley clears his throat, wiping his mouth with his napkin before casting me a sideways glance as he hesitantly stands from his chair. I take another drink of my wine, looking across to where Anna is giggling quietly with Nash as he presses a tender kiss to her cheek. My teeth grit together at their display of affection, so hard my jaw begins to ache.

“Hey, everyone.” Harley waves a nervous hand in the air. “I-I’m Harley Shaw. Nash’s oldest and therefore best friend.” He flashes me a smug smirk while everyone who knows us chuckles, and I roll my eyes, continuing to drown my secret sorrows with wine.

“Nash and I first met in the sandpit in Kindergarten. He was crying because he’d peed his pants and he didn’t want to tell the teacher in case the other kids made fun of him.”

Everyone at the table roars with laughter, and I look across to see Nash’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. He holds his glass of scotch in the air, nodding at Harley in mock appreciation.

Harley chuckles. “No, but seriously, I could stand up here and embarrass the hell out of my best friend with all the stories I have.” He casts Nash a knowing smirk. “But then what would I talk about at the wedding reception?” Again, the party guests laugh. “I can tell you one story, though. This one isn’t embarrassing, or particularly funny, but it sure is proof that Nash Harris might just be the greatest guy around.”

Everyone settles in, watching Harley as he continues.

“We were 16. And those who know me and Nash know that when it comes to fathers we were both dealt a pretty … lousy hand.” He pauses, this time raising his glass at Nash, and Nash nods in understanding, something passing between the two of them and only the two of them. Harley takes a deep breath, continuing, “My father has always been a drunk. Hell, he still is. He used to come to my football games and stand on the sidelines drunk as sin, cursing at the top of his lungs, making a damn fool of himself and embarrassing me.”

The mood around the table dwindles, and I shift a little uncomfortably in my chair because I know this story all too well, and it definitely isn’t pretty.

“Well, this was the biggest game of my whole life. Division One college scouts were coming to see me play. We were up against our fiercest rivals. I had to do a good job because my entire future rested on that one game.” He takes another sip from his beer, managing a smile. “So, I wrangled the help of my very best friend who knew all too well about alcoholic fathers.” He glances at Nash. “Nash went to my house before my dad got home from work, and he cleaned out all the alcohol. The beer. The liquor.” He stops to laugh. “Hell, he even swiped a bottle of mouthwash from the upstairs bathroom.”