Page 7 of Good Boy

“I’m nervous,” she admits. “I won’t know anyone there.”

I grin into the phone even though she can’t see me. “You know the most important person there, Ang.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?” She sounds exasperated.

“How many times did I tell you I don’t listen?” I counter. “Anyway, check in and get some sleep. Have a nice, relaxing morning. I’ll pick you up tomorrow after lunch.”

I hang up before she can protest, because it already took some serious effort to twist her arm into being my date. I’m not sure Jess is gonna like it, but hey, Jess isn’t the boss of me, now is she?

***

Jess

I juggle my phone, day planner, and steaming mug of decaffeinated tea as I leave my tiny kitchen and enter my tiny living room. My friend Dyson is babbling in my ear, giving a long-winded response about everything from the weather to the color of his tie, when all I asked was whether he plans to show up early to help me out.

I set my mug on the coffee table and cut him off midsentence. “Babe, I adore you. You know I adore you. But for the love of God, can you ever answer anything with a simple yes or no?”

“What was the question again?”

I almost hurl the phone against the wall but stop myself at the last second. “Are you coming early to help with the setup, or are you showing up at three?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“Ah, I’ll come early,” he decides. “We can watch everyone arrive and dish about what they’re wearing. Ooooh! Do you think Cousin Brandy will have another wardrobe malfunction?”

Oh God, and repeat the Strapless Bra Mishap of last year? I hope not. My sister, Tammy, still has nightmares about that. It happened at her and her husband’s anniversary party, and she’s never forgiven our cousin for it.

“I already made Brandy send me pictures of every item of clothing she plans to wear,” I assure him. “We should be good.”

“Way to crush my dreams.”

I snicker. “What do you need to see tits for? Wouldn’t you rather my cousin Andy’s tuxedo pants popped open and flashed some dick?” Andy is Brandy’s twin brother. No joke. My mom’s sister—Aunt Val—is terrible at naming children. Andy and Brandy’s little brother is named Chuck. Not even short for Charles. Just Chuck.

“Ooooh, Andy will be there? He’s almost as dreamy as Jamie.”

“Ew, Dyse. You are not allowed to drool over my little brother.”

“You’re right. I’m not allowed to now. I missed my chance. I cannot believe Jamie is marrying a man. It’s like the universe is having a laugh at me right now. If I thought there was even a two percent shot Jamie was bi, I would’ve blown him in the high school locker room while I had the chance.”

“Omigod, no thank you for that image.”

“I’m seriously heartbroken, Jess. This is worse than opening up Brandr and seeing guys on there who used to stuff me into lockers. Jamie was one of the good ones. And he’s marrying a celebrity athlete. He should be marrying me.”

I take a sip of my tea, then a deep breath. “Are you going to be able to contain your disappointment tomorrow? Because I really need your help.”

“Sure.” He sniffs. “Maybe I’ll catch the bouquet.”

There won’t be a bouquet, but he doesn’t need to know that yet. I flip to the back page of my day planner, where I jot down last-minute notes about the wedding. “Oh, hey, I’m going to need you to sit on Wes’s side of the aisle tomorrow. All his teammates will be there, but I’m not sure that’ll be enough to balance out the Canning side.”

“Baby, you had me at teammates. Please tell me there won’t be enough chairs and I’ll have to sit on one of their laps.” Dyson chuckles. “You know my life’s goal has always been to be a puck bunny.”

Trust me, it’s overrated, I want to tell him.

“Besides,” he adds, “if there’s one queer hockey player, there have to be more.”

Dyson is the biggest flirt I’ve ever met. I swear, he probably flirts with himself in the mirror when he’s home alone. “Look, I want this to be a classy ceremony,” I say. “Don’t flirt until at least the reception.”

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” Dyson promises.

“Thank you.”

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