But it’s June, and the sun is already rising in a blue sky that promises a perfect New York day.
I settle in against the green, purple, and blue pillows spilling across the window seat and click open my phone.
My screen is bursting with notifications.
Text after text.
* * *
Logan: And good night to you too.
* * *
Logan: I mean, not that I need a goodbye, but holy hell. That was one hell of an exit. You took off like a fighter jet.
* * *
Smiling, I tap out a reply.
* * *
Ransom: Why, thank you. I consider that the highest of compliments.
* * *
But that’s not quite enough for the man who set me straight last night. Every now and then, a guy needs to speak a different language with his buds. I send another text.
* * *
Ransom: And I hope you know that this is the highest of compliments—thank you for the bro talk last night. I needed it, and I appreciate it.
* * *
Logan: Well, then, I couldn’t be happier.
* * *
Ransom: Bet you’ll be happier after you ask Bryn to marry you. Let me know when she says yes.
* * *
Logan: Aww, you’re sweet. Did it pain you to be honest like that?
* * *
Ransom: Like ripping off a limb, but every now and then, I gotta be up-front.
* * *
Logan: Wish me luck. Also, good luck to you, man.
* * *
Next, there’s a message from Fitz. I furrow my brow, wondering what the hell he’s doing texting me when he’s taking off for his honeymoon.
* * *
Fitz: Say it. I was right. I was motherfucking right.
* * *
Fitz: I’m waiting to use my I told you so and receive my thank you, all rolled into one big mea culpa from you, dickhead.
* * *
Fitz: I told you she’d be good for you, and I told you to go for it.
* * *
Fitz: And I was right. Also, did you or did you not score on my wedding night? I’m like a good luck charm.
* * *
The flurry of messages was sent an hour ago. It’s nine thirty, so I reply.
* * *
Ransom: What the fuck are you texting me for? Don’t you have more important things to do . . . like, say, fly to Copenhagen for your honeymoon?
* * *
Fitz: I was in line grabbing coffee at the airport, asshole. SINCE I WAS UP ALL NIGHT. Also, I can almost always make time to give you shit. Now, we’re about to take off, and inquiring minds want to know. WHEN DO I GET MY THANK YOU?
* * *
Ransom: Thanks for last night, you jackass. There, happy?
* * *
Fitz: Yes! I knew it. I was right. I was motherfucking right. You and Teagan are a thing. Called it.
* * *
Ransom: Go to Denmark, cupid. Just go to Denmark and have fun with your hubby.
* * *
Fitz: Obviously.
* * *
One more note from him lands on my phone.
* * *
Fitz: Also, I might have been part of that bet with Martinez and Carnale at the auction.
* * *
My brow creases as I think back to the night of the auction.
* * *
Ransom: Which one? There were about a gazillion.
* * *
Fitz: The one for a grand on whether she’d kiss you if she won you. Carnale said she wouldn’t. Martinez said she would. But guess what? I put my neck on the line. I said YOU’D kiss her. I had to defend your honor, bro.
* * *
I laugh, recalling the kiss. Yeah. I went first.
* * *
Ransom: I kissed her. You defended well. Happens every now and then.
* * *
Fitz: Sort of like your sense of humor. Also, see you on the flip side. I’m off.
* * *
Ransom: Hey! One more thing. Congrats! I’m really fucking happy for you.
* * *
Fitz: Thanks, man. Means a lot to me. And now I really am outta here.
* * *
Then, finally, a note from Martinez blinks at me.
* * *
Martinez: So, about that bet . . .
* * *
Ransom: Which one? Be specific. There’s the one where I beat you in the auction—aka the one where you pony up all your teeny little greenbacks for my favorite charity. Then there’s the one where you and your catcher bet each other that my woman wouldn’t kiss me.
* * *
Martinez: Oh, she is your woman now? Felicidades.
* * *
I’m about to write back and ask again which bet he was referring to when the padding of soft feet lands on my ears. I set the phone down, cross the living room, and grin when I see Teagan yawning, stretching her hands above her head, then smiling at me. She’s wearing sleep shorts and a tank top, and I want to kiss her everywhere.
“I see you found my reading nook,” she says.
My heart thumps hard. So hard it might be trying to leap out of my chest.
