Page 97 of Big Dick Energy

“His voice cracked. Same thing.”

I pressed two fingers to the bridge of my nose. Around me, the Paris boards looked annoyingly organized. I had a timeline. A plan. “Best friend finds out about Vegas marriage via international call while coffee destroys fabric” was not on the timeline.

“Can we start over?” I said. “Hi, Brooke. How's Italy?”

“Italy is lovely, and I was enjoying it until I found out my best friend got married without me.”

“You said that already.”

“I'm saying it again.”

Marcus had produced popcorn from somewhere. I genuinely had no idea where. The man was a problem.

I gave up on the swatches and walked to the window. “It happened fast,” I said. “We were already in Vegas for your wedding, and things just moved quickly.”

“Things moved quickly.” Her voice had come down a register. “That's your explanation.”

“Yes.”

“Three months ago, you called Dallas Dodger a testosterone-poisoned man-child with the emotional depth of a puddle.”

“I stand by the assessment.”

“You married him.”

“People are complicated.”

Silence. I could picture her in some Italian square, in a white dress, running through all her emotions.

“Okay,” she said finally, quieter now. “I watched the podcast. The whole thing, and then the clips again because Matt made me.” A pause. “But Davina. The way he talked about you. That wasn't a performance. That man is in love with you.”

I didn't say anything.

“The way he looked at you,” she said. “You can't fake that.”

“I don't know what we are,” I said, and the honesty came out before I could stop it. “I know it's real. Whatever it is, it's real. But it's also confusing. I'm a month out from Paris, and I can't think straight because he keeps looking at me like…”

“Like you're the answer to a question he didn't know he was asking?” She was quoting him back at me. I could hear her smiling. “Yeah. I caught that.”

“Don't.”

“Don't be happy for you? Don't want you to have someone who really sees you?”

My eyes were burning.

“I'm still mad,” Brooke added, but the edge was gone. “I missed your wedding. I didn't get to be there. I didn't get to stand beside you as your maid of honor or threaten Dallas within an inch of his life…”

“Delilah handled that part.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Your sister threatened him?”

“They had a conversation about surgical instruments and a detailed knowledge of anatomy.”

Brooke laughed, and the tension in my chest loosened. “God. Okay. You're not fully forgiven, but I love you, and when I'm back next week, I want the whole story. Every part of it. Including how you got from 'I'd rather eat glass' to 'I do.'“

“It's a long story.”

“I’ll make time.”