Page 40 of Last Night Was Fun

I am a tenacious man.

And a patient one.

Indefinitely.

The conversation paused for a few moments. Emmy wondered if he was waiting for her to change her mind. He eventually came back with a long message.

But listen, I don’t mean to pressure you. Honestly. I know your hang-ups are harder to work through than mine. (If I ever meet your ex, trust that I will have choice words for him!) So, I will be ready when you are. But please know it’s taken enormous strength not to even ask for a picture of you. (Hint hint.)

She quietly laughed in relief when she realized he wasn’t going to push her. And she had thought about the picture thing—she longed to know what he looked like, but crossing that boundary was nearly as hazardous as meeting in person. Exchanging photos would shake the status quo of what they had, and clearly, given her reflex to turn their relationship into a math problem, she was not ready to disrupt anything. Yet at least. And thankfully, he knew that without her having to tell him.

Thank you.

Of course, Bird Girl. I’m here. And I’ll tell you where to find me IRL if and when you want to know.?

And with that, Emmy turned over and went to sleep feeling like there was no way he’d ever let her crash when she eventually jumped.

Saturday night brought the event that had been in the making nearly as long as Piper’s princess wedding fantasies. The bachelorette party. Knowing her sister would want the penultimate step before she officially became a Mrs. filled to the brim with stereotype staples—booze, boas, Team Bride sashes, a veiled tiara, phallus-shaped everything—Emmy went all out.

She, Piper, and eight of Piper’s closest friends—five bridesmaids and three co-workers who’d been invited to the wedding—made for a party of ten at a downtown restaurant. Emmy had shelled out extra for a private room, thankfully, because the noise reached a deafening level after the first round of drinks. Ten women in dresses and heels with a rainbow of party favors with Piper as the all-in-white star of the show were hard to miss. Once they’d all showered her with praise and envy (Look at that rock! My god!)and gift bags of see-through lingerie that was too scandalous to give her at the bridal shower, they piled into rideshares to make their way to the harbor.

Emmy had booked three hours on a boat that would ferry them around the bay, from the Coronado Bridge over to Point Loma and back. It had an open bar, snacks, a playlist she’d carefully curated and transported on an iPod to hand over to the crew, and their own private, floating dance floor.

The only hiccup in the otherwise perfect night was the wind. San Diego Bay sat nearly entirely protected from open water given its shape, but as soon as they stepped onto the correct pier in the harbor, all ten of them glommed together into a huddle with a shiver.

“Are there heaters on this boat?” Piper asked as she squeezed herself against Emmy. The two of them brought up the rear of the pack, clacking along the dock toward their boat behind the fragrant cloud of feather-boa-draped, laughing women in front of them.

“Yes,” Emmy said. It was something she’d confirmed with the company in the event of this exact scenario. She knew her sister would not want to sully her bride-to-be outfit—a strapless white minidress with a lace bodice—with a jacket simply because they were going out on the water. The day had been warm, but a wind had whipped up and turned even the bay a little choppy.

“Good,” Piper said with a clatter of her teeth. Emmy worried she was unhappy about the weather despite it being out of anyone’s control, but then she lit up and squealed at the sight of the boat bobbing alongside the dock. “Oh mygod! It’sperfect!” She hopped a little skip as they fell in line behind the other women making their way up the gangplank.

Their modest-size charter—it comfortably fit thirty people; Emmy wanted plenty of room to move—floated alongside the pier trussed up like a little Christmas tree. At her request, the crew had outfitted it in sparkling lights and streamers. A banner with gold letters exclaimingCongrats, Piper!hung over the covered dance floor section at the stern. Bundles of balloons hung like shiny grapes from the ceiling and poles.

“It does look perfect,” Emmy said with a smile.

Piper squealed again and squeezed Emmy’s arm. “Thank yousomuch, Em. I love it! You are the best MOH ever!”

The reflex to roll her eyes surprisingly did not hit Emmy at her sister pronouncing the acronym. She was too wrapped up in the night’s spirit and honestly having a great time.

“You’re welcome, Pipes.”

They boarded the boat, and Emmy glanced back at the city behind them. The wind at least was keeping the marine layer away, leaving the downtown lights glittering in an array of heights and colors. The moon lazed in a thick crescent above it. The USSMidwayloomed gargantuan and mighty at the next pier over. The historic aircraft carrier and museum permanently docked in the bay made their boat seem comically small by comparison, and at seeing it up close,Emmy wondered as she did every time how something so large even managed to float.

“Welcome aboard, ladies,” a voice called from up ahead. “Please, make your way to the front of the boat for some safety instructions before we get underway.”

They followed instructions,oohingandawingand clinging to one another for warmth and support as they left dry land for the wobble of water. Emmy had intentionally worn block heels for that exact reason. She wasn’t about to snap an ankle or fall overboard in stilettos because she’d had a few drinks on a boat. Judging by the communal sway of the other women and the strength with which her sister gripped her arm, she was pretty far behind the rest of them on drinks anyway. Which was also part of the plan. Someone had to make sure the night went off without a hitch, and as MOH, that duty fell to her. But on the outside, she looked the part for the party.

Her sparkly emerald-green cocktail dress hugged her curves and had a daring slit up her thigh. She’d braided her hair into a wreath with a few dangling tendrils, knowing the ocean air would frizz it into a cloud if she didn’t take precautionary measures. She’d donned a purple feather boa and carried a tote bag with the rest of the party favors she’d saved for after dark and the iPod with the playlist. She wasready.

Except, when she and Piper fully stepped onto the boat, she froze in shock.

“Oh my god.” Emmy gasped at the sight of a man in a tight black polo up ahead. She knew those arms. And that hair. And that charming smile he was giving everyone who walked past.

What the holy hell was Gabe Olson doing on her sister’s bachelorette party boat?

Emmy blinked in complete shock several times, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. She wasn’t drunk enough to be imagining it. It was him.

The urge to hide hit her like a truck, but there was nowhere to go unless she dove overboard, and she’d spent way too much time onher hair and makeup for that. Out of desperation, she tried to seal herself to the boat’s cabin wall but only succeeded in nearly tripping her sister behind her.