The look on Allysa’s face changes, and I feel instantly bad for her. I know Marshall only said that in fun, but it has to bother her. She was just telling me a few days ago how depressed she is that she can’t get pregnant.

“I can’t have beer, Marshall.”

“Then drink wine, at least. You like me more when you’re tipsy.” He laughs at himself, but Allysa doesn’t.

“I can’t have wine, either. I can’t have any alcohol, actually.”

Marshall stops laughing.

My heart does a flip-flop.

Marshall turns in the booth and grabs her shoulders, making her face him straight-on. “Allysa?”

She just starts nodding and I don’t know who starts crying first. Me or Marshall or Allysa. “I’m gonna be a dad?” he yells.

She’s still nodding, and I’m just bawling like an idiot. Marshall jumps up in the booth and yells, “I’m gonna be a dad!”

I can’t even explain what this moment is like. A grown man in a onesie, standing up in a booth at a bar, yelling to whoever will listen that he’s gonna be a dad. He pulls her up and they’re both standing in the booth now. He kisses her and it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.

Until I look at Ryle and catch him chewing on his bottom lip like he’s trying to blink back a potential tear. He glances at me and sees me staring, so he looks away. “Shut up,” he says. “She’s my sister.”

I smile and lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “Congratulations, Uncle Ryle.”

Once the parents-to-be stop making out in the booth, Ryle and I both stand up and congratulate them. Allysa said she’s been feeling sick for a while, but just took a test this morning before our grand opening. She was going to wait and tell Marshall tonight when they got home, but she couldn’t hold it in for another second.

Our drinks come and we order food. Once the waitress walks away, I look at Marshall. “How did you two meet?”

He says, “Allysa tells the story better than I do.”

Allysa perks up and leans forward. “I hated him,” she says. “He was Ryle’s best friend and he was always at the house. I thought he was so annoying. He had just moved to Ohio from Boston and he had that Boston accent. He thought it made him so cool but I just wanted to slap him every time he spoke.”

“She’s so sweet,” Marshall says, sarcastically.

“You were an idiot,” Allysa replies, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, one day Ryle and I had a few friends over. Nothing big, but our parents were out of town, so of course we had a little get-together.”

“There were thirty people there,” Ryle says. “It was a party.”

“Okay, a party,” Allysa says. “I walked into the kitchen and Marshall was standing there pressed up against some floozy.”

“She wasn’t a floozy,” he says. “She was a nice girl. Tasted like Cheetos, but . . .”

Allysa glares at him so he shuts up. She turns back to me. “I lost it,” she says. “I started yelling at him to take his whores to his own house. The girl was literally so terrified of me, she ran for the door and didn’t come back.”

“Cock blocker,” Marshall says.

Allysa punches him in the shoulder. “Anyway. After I cock blocked him, I ran to my room, embarrassed that I did that. It was out of pure jealousy, and I didn’t even realize I liked him that way until I saw his hands on some other girl’s ass. I threw myself on my bed and started crying. A few minutes later, he walked into my room and asked me if I was okay. I rolled over and yelled, ‘I like you, you stupid fuck-face!’ ”

“And the rest is history . . .” Marshall says.

I laugh. “Awe. Stupid fuck-face. How sweet.”

Ryle holds up a finger and says, “You’re leaving out the best part.”

Allysa shrugs. “Oh yeah. So Marshall walked over to me, pulled me off the bed, kissed me with the same mouth he was just kissing the floozy with, and we made out for half an hour. Ryle walked in on us and started screaming at Marshall. Then Marshall pushed Ryle out of my bedroom, locked the door, and made out with me for another hour.”

Ryle is shaking his head. “Betrayed by my best friend.”

Marshall pulls Allysa to him. “I like her, you stupid fuck-face.”

I laugh, but Ryle turns to me with a serious look on his face. “I didn’t speak to him for an entire month, I was so mad. I eventually got over it. We were eighteen, she was seventeen. Wasn’t much I could do in the way of keeping them apart.”

“Wow,” I say. “I sometimes forget how close in age you two are.”

Allysa smiles and says, “Three kids in three years. I feel so sorry for my parents.”

The table grows quiet. I see an apologetic look pass from Allysa to Ryle.

“Three?” I ask. “You have another sibling?”

Ryle straightens up and takes a sip of his beer. He sets it back down on the table and says, “We had an older brother. He passed away when we were kids.”

Such a great night, ruined by a simple question. Luckily, Marshall redirects the conversation like a pro.

I spend the rest of the evening listening to stories about them growing up. I’m not sure I’ve ever laughed as hard as I have tonight.

When the game is over, we all walk back to the shop to retrieve our cars. Ryle said he caught an Uber over earlier, so he’ll just ride with me. Before Allysa and Marshall leave, I tell her to hold on. I run inside the store and grab the steampunk flowers and run them back to their car. Her face lights up when I hand them to her.

“I’m happy you’re pregnant but that’s not why I’m giving you these flowers. I just want you to have them. Because you’re my best friend.”

Allysa squeezes me and whispers in my ear. “I hope he marries you someday. We’ll be even better sisters.”

She climbs inside the car and they leave, and I just stand there watching them because I don’t know that I’ve ever had a friend like her in my whole life. Maybe it’s the wine. I don’t know, but I love today. Everything about it. I especially love how Ryle looks, leaning against my car, watching me.

“You’re really beautiful when you’re happy.”

Ugh! This day! Perfect!

• • •

We’re making our way up the stairs to my apartment when Ryle grabs my waist and pushes me against the wall. He just starts kissing me, right there in the stairwell.

“Impatient,” I mutter.

He laughs and cups my ass with both of his hands. “Nope. It’s this onesie. You really should consider making this your business attire.” He kisses me again and doesn’t stop kissing me until someone passes us, heading down the stairs.

The guy mumbles, “Nice onesies,” as he squeezes past us. “Did the Bruins win?”

Ryle nods. “Three to one,” he responds, without looking up at the guy.

“Nice,” the guy says.

Once he’s gone, I step away from Ryle. “What is this onesie thing? Does every male in Boston know about this?”

He laughs and says, “Free beer, Lily. It’s free beer.” He pulls me up the stairs, and when we walk in the door, Lucy is standing at the kitchen table taping up a box of her stuff. There’s another box she hasn’t taped up yet and I could swear I see a bowl that I bought at HomeGoods sticking out of the top. She said she’d have all her stuff out by next week, but I have a feeling she’ll conveniently have some of my stuff out, too.

“Who are you?” she asks, looking Ryle up and down.

“Ryle Kincaid. I’m Lily’s boyfriend.”

Lily’s boyfriend.

Did you hear that?

Boyfriend.

It’s the first time he’s confirmed it, and he said it so confidently. “My boyfriend, huh?” I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine and two wineglasses.

Ryle comes up behind me as I’m pouring the wine and snakes his arms around my waist. “Yep. Your boyfriend.”

I hand him a glass of wine and say, “So I’m a girlfriend?”

He holds up his glass and clinks it against mine. “To the end of trial runs and the beginning of sure things.”

We’re both smiling as we take a drink of our wine.