“The wedding is really small,” Lawrence says. “We wanted to keep things simple.”

“Mostly, we just want to get married.” Lilia kisses him on the cheek. “Friends and family only.”

“Friends.” Lawrence leans heavily on the word, slurring it a little bit, having overindulged again. “You never did say, Ryan, how long the two of you have been dating.”

Ryan’s hand clenches in my lap. “Long enough.”

“Tell us how you met!” Mrs. Pierce chirps.

“Well,” I hesitate. “Ryan called Peretti’s—”

“Her dad owns the best pizza shop in Los Angeles,” Ryan interjects. “The best.”

“I introduced it to him,” Lawrence says with a smirk. “And to her.”

Lilia frowns at her fiancé. Apparently too much alcohol brings out the dickhead version of Lawrence. He hasn’t said anything awful yet, but it feels dangerous, as if we’re dancing around dynamite, hoping it won’t explode.

“I delivered a pizza and accidentally bumped my car into the back of his,” I say. “Ryan was an absolute gentlemen about the whole thing, even though I felt horrible.”

“We exchanged information, even though there was hardly any damage,” Ryan says, gliding over the fact that I’d left my bumper behind like a big, fat breadcrumb. “We ran into each other a few more times through Peretti’s, and—”

“And he surprised me at my comedy show on the night of Lawrence and Lilia’s party,” I add. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“And she did amazing!” Lilia claps her hands. “The best I’ve seen.”

I blush. I know she’s exaggerating, but it’s still a little surreal that an entire party changed its course to show up at my show in the first place. “It was nice of them to come.”

Lawrence snorts, and Lilia elbows him.

“What?” Lawrence faces the table. “And then Andi slept over and the rest is history.”

“You’re in comedy?” Mr. Pierce ignores Lawrence. “Would I have seen you in anything? Television programs or Netflix?”

I shake my head. “Probably not. I’ve been playing at local clubs mostly, although I do have an audition for a pretty big pilot next week.”

“Next week?” Ryan turns to look at me. “Is this new?”

“I got the phone call from Nick as we were boarding the plane on the way here,” I say with an apologetic wince. “I’m sorry, I forgot to mention it in the whirlwind of today.”

“Congratulations!” Ryan says, a flicker of surprise passing through his gaze. “That’s incredible! Although, I did tell you this would happen, so you shouldn’t be surprised.”

Now he’s smiling again, clearly happy for me, and I lean in as he gives me a congratulatory hug.

“Andi, that’s wonderful,” Mrs. Pierce says. “You’ll have to let us know when you have a show. If Ryan ends up signed with the Lightning, we’ll have two reasons to come out there and visit.”

She winks, Mr. Pierce nods in agreement, and the rest of dinner thankfully dissolves into mindless chatter that’s interspersed with Lilia stealing Lawrence’s wine glass and replacing it with water.

It’s well past ten o’clock by the time we finally wrap dinner up. Most of the brothers are staying over at the house, save for Anderson, who doesn’t live far away. Lawrence lives in LA, so he’s stuck here, too.

Lilia helps her fiancé toward the bedroom, and I offer to help clear the table.

“Sure, dear, that’d be wonderful,” Mrs. Pierce says. “Only if Ryan doesn’t mind.”

“I’ll help too,” he says. “What can I do?”

“Bring these outside.” Mrs. Pierce gestures to the fold-up chairs they pulled in to accommodate the extra guests at the dinner table. “Andi and I can take care of the kitchen.”

The two of us sink into an easy silence as the rest of the boys settle near a bonfire out back. The scent of burning marshmallows wafts toward us, and it’s an entirely pleasant evening.

“Go on out to the fire,” Mrs. Pierce says once we’ve hauled all the dishes to the sink. “Ryan’s probably glued to his skewer. He does have a weakness for s’mores.”

I thank her for the lovely meal, wash my hands, and make my way toward the back door. We’ve made it past the potentially awkward dinner scene, and now we’re practically home free. All Ryan and I have to do the rest of the weekend is enjoy the Midwestern summer weather and celebrate a wedding.

Simple.

Resting a hand on the screen door, I stop. Lazy conversation filters through the open windows from the backyard, but it’s the second set of voices coming from upstairs that gives me pause. They’re in Ryan’s bedroom, if I had to guess, and the voices are animated, upset with one another, yet I can’t tell who’s there.

I consider going outside, but a thought holds me back. What if it’s Lawrence arguing with Ryan, or worse, Lilia?

“Hello?” I call upstairs, but nobody hears me—or at least, nobody responds.

I take another few steps.

I’m about to call again when finally, I start to recognize the voices. It’s Lawrence all right, and Ryan, and they’re arguing about something, someone—me, I realize with a start. They’re arguing about me.

“—you have to be a jerk at dinner, Law?” Ryan says. “You’ve known I was bringing her for a month. She hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Nothing to me,” Lawrence drawls. “Why’d you bring your bunny to my wedding?”

“She’s my girlfriend, asshole.”

“Really? What happened to your little agreement with Blondie?”

Instantly, ice travels down my spine. I know exactly who he means—the agent. I listen for Ryan’s response, but it’s silent.

“Is the door stuck?” Ryan’s mom appears behind me holding a tray. “Can you be a doll and bring these marshmallows out? I have to grab the lemonade pitcher, and I don’t have enough hands.”

“Yes, of course,” I murmur, trying not to show my dismay. It’s probably for the best that I don’t listen anymore—it isn’t my conversation to hear.

I push the back door open with my foot and leave the voices behind me.

“Hey, Peretti! Grab a seat,” Brody says with a high five. “Where’s Ryan?”

“Probably still inside. I haven’t seen him in a little while.”

“Do you like marshmallows?”

“I’ve never roasted one,” I admit. “We have lots of burn bans in LA, and we didn’t have a pit outside as a kid.”

The entire Pierce family freezes. “You’ve never had a s’more?”

Even though my nerves are rattled, I smile. “Well, I guess I’ll have to change that.”

Ten minutes, two burned marshmallows, and one devoured chocolate bar later, I’ve just finished my first s’more and declare it amazing. I’m about to load up on my second one when Ryan appears.

He looks flustered, his hair mussed, t-shirt slightly askew. “There you are,” he says to me. Instead of sitting down, he grabs my hand. “Can we get out of here? There’s something I want to show you.”

A few moans from the rest of the family erupt, and Brody proclaims his big brother to be an old fart party pooper, but Ryan’s not in the mood to put up with their teasing.

“See you tomorrow,” he tells everyone while pulling me away. “Sorry to break up the festivities.”

“It’s no problem,” I say, stumbling as I step onto uneven ground. I right myself and scurry to keep up. “I was looking for you anyway. Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he says through gritted teeth.

“It doesn’t seem that way.”

His shoulders tense, and then relax. When he turns to me, it’s with his lips curved upward. It’s a soft, muted smile, but a smile all the same. “Lawrence is being a pain in my ass. I suppose I should give him a break, night before his wedding and all.”

“Siblings,” I say.

“Yeah,” he murmurs in agreement. “Really, I wanted some alone time with you. Mind if I show you one of my favorite places? I really think you’ll like it.”

“Lead the way,” I say, grabbing his hand and following as he leads me farther behind the house to a shed big enough to double as a garage.

As he guides me into an old pickup truck, he squeezes my hand tight. “I meant what I said, Andi. I love you, and I want you to be mine.”