Page 63 of Three Grumpy Groomsmen

“I don’t know right now. That’s a separate thing from what you and I have. What we’ve always had. I want you to move in with me when we get back to Los Angeles.”

A glance over shows she is just nodding. “I assumed I would be.”

I give a crack of surprised laughter. “Why, because you don’t have a place to live?”

“Yes, there’s that. But also, we’ve been friends for years. Why would we just, I don’t know,date? That doesn’t seem like enough for us. We’re already beyond that.”

My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my damn chest. “I agree. I just want to be with you. Always.”

“Same.” Ivy leans over and kisses my cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Besides, you already offered to let me stay with you.” She gives me a sassy smile. “Now it’s just permanent.”

“Permanent. God, I love the sound of that.”

We drive another couple of hours, our vibe relaxed and easy and comfortable with each other.

I’m very aware we didn’t really resolve the dilemma of Harrison and Ford. I’ve been trying to decipher what my feelings are and what they mean. All I can land on is that I’m still very much attracted to Harrison, and not just sexually. The way heapproaches life is so confident, so carefree. I admire that about him and I don’t like that he basically blew me off. Again.

I want him to admit that we have a connection that goes beyond sex.

That he felt it, and got scared, and ran.

Would I have enjoyed seeing him kissing someone else? No. But I would have talked to him about it. Or tried to anyway. He just…left.

That doesn’t stop me from thinking about him, though.

Ivy keeps looking at her phone. I suspect she’s checking to see if she’s gotten a response from Ford. I had zero expectation of hearing from Harrison and yet I still want to. The frown and the wrinkle of her nose suggest Ford hasn’t answered her. It’s a bizarre feeling that I’m one hundred percent in love with her and yet I’m sad for her that she’s not getting the attention she wants from another guy.

I honestly don’t know what the fuck that even means.

Or what to do about it.

“Are we there yet?” I joke to Ivy to distract her.

She looks at her GPS. “We actually are. ETA only fifteen minutes, woo-hoo!”

“Excellent.” Even with good company, I’m more than a little sick of being in the car.

Ivy rolls down her window and sticks her head out a little. “I smell the ocean!”

“It’s very…quaint here.”

We’re driving through a town that looks like a retro movie set. Colorful shops, an ice cream parlor, a barber with the spiral pole, and people leisurely riding bikes with woven baskets perched on the front of them. Back home, biking is a fitness lifestyle, not a sightseeing excursion. They’ll run your ass over if you’re walking too slow.

“Liam, this is actually so cute. A little touristy, but everyone looks…happy.”

“That’s because there’s no traffic.”

She laughs. “Right? Does that mean you could actually run a quick errand here and it would actually be, you know,quick?”

It seems that way, which is a foreign concept to me. “Do you want to eat dinner or check out your house first?”

I still can’t figure out why Brad gave Ivy a house. Or why he bought it in the first place.

“The house. I need reassurance that it is real and not a figment of my imagination, like my relationship with Brad.”

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