Page 67 of Seven Rules for Breaking Hearts

“So weird.” We broke apart. Jo was standing a couple feet away, her binder splayed open in her arms and her eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. “Like watching my parents kiss.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that too chaste for you?” I shot back. “Hoping to see some tongue?”

“Yeah, and then I can go bleach my eyeballs.”

I nodded at her binder. “What’s that?”

“A copy of tonight’s schedule.” She extracted it from the rings of the binder and handed it over to me. “I’m hoping everything goes according to plan, but I figure if anything goes wrong, you could help—”

“Make sure it gets back on track,” I said, accepting the schedule from her outstretched hand. I glanced at the paper. 4PM—meeting w/ the wedding party to discuss the procession, read the first line. “Got it.” Trust Jo to have a plan for everything.

Almost as soon as the rehearsal had wrapped up, the guests started arriving. It was a balmy night, the stars overhead drowned in fairy lights strung across the restaurant. My mom beamed at me from a few tables over, dressed in a mint-green pantsuit and wearing lipstick for possibly the first time ever. She kept waggling her eyebrows at me and jerking her head in Tony’s direction as if to say look who I’m sitting next to—the exact opposite of playing it cool, but he didn’t seem to notice.

I was seated at a table with the rest of the wedding party. Jo was wearing an ivory cape dress with her black hair swept into a sleek French twist—she looked like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine, and of course, Rory the Photographer was here to make sure he got it all on camera, snapping candids while we tried to enjoy our dinner. Beneath the table, Declan’s hand rested on my thigh while he got into a heated conversation with Lucas about whatever the hell the Space Force did. He’d relinquished the USB stick to Peter, who was currently setting up the projector ahead of his parents’ speech. I scooped shrimp-and-crab ceviche onto a tortilla chip as I listened to Liv explaining the pitfalls of living with three roommates she met on Craigslist.

“There’s like, a drool stain on the couch from where the one chick keeps falling asleep. And we’re telling her, Mari, it’s a pull-out bed, you don’t have to sleep on the couch, but she just passes out watching Schitt’s Creek every night.” She rolled her eyes. “But I mean, on the flip side, we’re only a few blocks from the beach. So it’s a trade-off, you know?”

“I can’t even imagine,” Autumn said. “My roommate at FIDM is bad enough, and there’s only one of him.”

“To be fair, dorms are their own nightmare,” I chimed in through a mouthful of tortilla chip. I swallowed and went for another. “One time I found a cactus in the toilet.”

Autumn looked like she was about to ask some follow-up questions about the cactus, but Liv cut her off. “Where are you planning to go now, with Jo moving out?”

“We’re thinking about buying out of the lease,” I said. “After that, I might stay with my mom for a bit, and then—” I cast a sideways glance at Declan, who was still absorbed in his conversation with Lucas. It had devolved from Space Force to an impassioned debate about government spending, and so far as I could tell, they were yet to find any common ground. “I guess I’m just going to see where life takes me.”

For the first time in what felt like a long time, that wasn’t a scary prospect. For all I’d dreaded this wedding, it was starting to look like I would come out the other side unscathed. Things would be different. Jo and I were working on plans to retire the podcast, and then I’d have plenty of time to figure out what my future was going to look like. There was still a hint of the unknown, but there was something exciting in that. No longer constrained by rules or a brand, I’d be free to make my own choices. Do what worked for me, rather than what worked for everyone else.

Beneath the table, I slid my hand over Declan’s thigh—he was wearing dress slacks today in place of his usual jeans or board shorts. He broke off in the middle of whatever he was saying to arch an eyebrow at me. I gave him an innocent smile.

“I don’t understand how you guys afforded that apartment in the first place,” Autumn was saying. “I mean, I get decent ad revenue from my videos and everything, but L.A. rent is ridiculous. If it weren’t for student housing, I’d be living with my parents for sure.”

Liv pulled a face. “No offense, but I could never.”

“That’s because your parents are on the opposite side of the country.”

“No, but like, even if they lived here, there’s no way—”

I stopped listening when Declan leaned in close, warm breath tickling my ear and his voice dropping low. “Any interest in—”

“Hey, man.” Peter materialized beside us, tossing a thumb over his shoulder at the projector. “I can’t get this thing to work.”

Declan exhaled and shot me an apologetic look. “Hold that thought,” he muttered, and with a swift kiss, he left me at the table to go teach his best friend the basics of using a thumb drive.

One of the servers stopped by the table to refill my champagne flute, her gaze trailing after Declan. She turned back to me, mouth twisting in a wry smile. “Cute.”

It took me a moment to recognize her. Her California poppy tattoo was covered by the long-sleeve shirt beneath her uniform and her choppy hair was slicked back in a bun. “They have you serving champagne?” I asked.

“All hands on deck tonight,” Shelley said in a bored voice. She nodded at the projector, where Declan was busy helping Peter figure out the slideshow. “So what happened with your boy problems? Get everything worked out?”

Shit. I’d forgotten that I had talked to her about that. I’d been vague, I was pretty sure, but I’d also been high that night, and a little tipsy. “More or less,” I said, not sure I wanted to talk about Declan to a virtual stranger. Especially not when that stranger had been less than friendly on at least one occasion.

“That’s the guy you were texting?” When I didn’t confirm or deny, she smiled faintly. “Figured as much. He was with you that day at the bar. And at your friend’s bachelorette party, too.”

“He’s not—” I started to say, not entirely sure where the sentence was heading, but I was distracted when Declan came up behind me. He jerked his head toward the dark beach, away from the rehearsal dinner. “Excuse me,” I said to Shelley as I tossed my napkin on the table and rose to my feet, all too happy to dodge any more prying questions. I followed Declan away from the chatter. The stairs from the deck spilled right onto the beach, where the smell of the ocean clung to the evening air. My heels were unsteady in the sand, but he steadied me as he pulled me into the shadows beside the stairs and kissed me.

I’d waited all afternoon for a moment alone with him, so I wanted to enjoy this, but the conversation with Shelley was still whirling in my head. Why had she decided to bring that up? Maybe she was just being friendly—making conversation, and my so-called boy problems were the one thing she knew about me. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was … off.

“Okay, what’s going through your head?” Declan asked against my lips, pressing his forehead against mine. “You’re distracted. I can tell.”