Both men hummed thoughtfully, considering this. Finally, Bennett asked, “Did you two ever decide to be exclusive? I’m sorry if I’m not following the map of this relationship very clearly. You leave a very treacherous path of women behind you.”

“She knew that I wanted to be exclusive, but then I agreed to keep it open—because that’s what she wanted. For me, she’s it,” I said, not caring whether they gave me a mountain of shit for being so whipped. I deserved it, and the funniest part was I relished being claimed. “You guys called it, and I have no problem admitting you’re right. She’s funny, and beautiful. She’s sexy and she’s f**king brilliant. I mean, she is completely it for me. I have to think today was just a bump in the road or else I will probably go on punching walls repeatedly until my hand is broken.”

Bennett laughed, lifting his glass to clink it against mine. “Then here’s to hoping she comes around.”

Max lifted his glass, too, knowing there wasn’t really anything he could say. He winced a little, apologetically, as if this was all somehow his fault simply because he’d wished lovesick misery on me only a couple months back.

After my little speech, the silence returned, and the weird mood with it. I struggled to not be pulled under. Of course I was worried I wouldn’t be able to win Hanna back. From the first moment she slid her fingers beneath my shirt in the bedroom at the party, I’d been ruined for anyone else.

Hell, even before then. I think I’d been lost in her the second I pulled the wool cap over her adorably rumpled bed head on our first run.

But despite my certainty that she had lied about her feelings, and that she did feel something for me, doubt crept back in. Why had she lied? What happened between our obvious lovemaking and when we got into the car the next morning?

Bennett interrupted my downward spiral with his own misery: “Well, since we’re letting out all of our feelings, I guess it’s my turn to share. The wedding is driving us both mad. Everyone in our family is traveling to San Diego for the ceremony—I mean everyone—step-great-aunts and second-cousins-twice-removed and people I haven’t seen since I was five. The same thing on Chlo’s side.”

“That’s great,” I said, and then reconsidered when Bennett slid his cool gaze to me. “Isn’t it good when people accept your invitation?”

“I suppose it is, but many of these people weren’t invited. Her family is mostly in North Dakota, and mine is all over Canada, and Michigan, and Illinois. They’re all looking for a reason to have a vacation on the coast.” Shaking his head, he continued: “So last night Chloe decided she wanted to elope. To cancel all of it, and she’s so hell-bent on it that I’m afraid she is going to call the hotel and cancel and we’ll be thoroughly f**ked then.”

“She wouldn’t do that, mate,” Max murmured, roused from his uncharacteristically quiet mood. “Would she?”

Bennett’s hands slid into his hair and curled into fists, his elbows planted on the table. “Honestly, I don’t know. This thing is getting huge, and even I feel like it’s spiraling out of control. Everyone in our family is inviting whoever they want—as if it’s just a big free party and why not? It’s not even about cost at this point, it’s about space, about having what we wanted. We were imagining a wedding of about a hundred and fifty. Now it’s close to three hundred.” He sighed. “It’s just one day. It’s a day. Chloe is trying to stay sane but it’s hard on her because there’s only so much I . . .” He laughed, shaking his head, and then sat up to look at us. “There are only so many details I give a shit about. For once in my life, I don’t need to control everything. I don’t care what our colors are, or what wedding favors we choose. I don’t care about the flowers. Everything that comes after is what I care about. I care that I get to f**k her for a week in Fiji and then we’ll be married forever. That’s what matters. Maybe I should just let her cancel it all and marry her this weekend so we can get to the f**king.”

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell Bennett that I was sure every couple went through this kind of crisis, but the truth was, I had no idea. Even at Jensen’s wedding—where I’d been the best man—the only thing keeping me going during the ceremony was the thought of taking the two bridesmaids to the coat closet to bang. I hadn’t paid particularly close attention to the more sentimental emotions of the day.

So, I closed my mouth, rubbing a palm across it and feeling a dose of self-loathing sweep over me. Fuck. I already missed Hanna, and being with my two closest friends who were so . . . situated made it hard. It wasn’t that I felt I needed to catch up to some milestone of theirs; I simply wanted that comfort of knowing I could go out with my friends for an evening and still come home to her. I missed the comfort of her company, the way she listened so carefully, the way I knew she said whatever came to mind when she was around me, a thing I noticed she didn’t do with anyone else. I loved her for being so wildly her own self—so fierce and confident and curious and smart. And I missed feeling her body, taking pleasure from her, and, f**k, giving her pleasure unending.