“Colt’s Josie’s date,” Jesse replied matter-of-factly.

“And you didn’t think to tell me this earlier?” Not that it threw a kink in my plans, but I would have liked a little more notice that Colt and Josie were there together than him slipping into the seat next to her and draping his arm around the back of her chair.

Jesse lifted a shoulder. “I’m telling you now. Besides, I’m pretty sure the only reason she invited him was to piss you off. Looks like it’s working.”

“Great, just fucking great,” I said, scrubbing my hands over my face. Josie was with Colt, she’d all but admitted that she hated me, and the dude with the mic had just switched it on and was bringing it my direction. Could anything go worse?

When the guy handed me the mic, I accidentally tapped my water glass with it, making the glass teeter a few times before shattering when it hit the ground. Of course that made me mutter a curse which, since the mic was on and close to my mouth, sounded around the entire tent. Perfect. The first word of my speech was that one. Jesse and Rowen snickered, Josie was back to glaring at me, and Jesse’s sisters gaped at me like I’d just set myself on fire.

Now that I had everyone’s attention and the babies in the room were crying . . . speech time. “No one’s ever accused me of being articulate, and after that, you can all see why—if you didn’t know that already.” Everyone except for the chuckling hyenas beside me stared at me with shocked expressions. “That’s why I would have begged Jesse to let someone else speak, but since I had a whole five minutes of notice”—I clapped my hand on his shoulder and gave it a hard squeeze—“there wasn’t a lot of time for begging. Or running away before the mic got in my hands. So even though articulate and me”— shit, was it articulate and I? I should have paid more attention in English class—“live on opposite sides of the state, tonight I’m going to give it my best shot. Tonight I’m going to attempt to say exactly what I need to, and I hope you all will give me a chance to do that.”

My eyes shifted to Josie, who still had her back to me, but it had stiffened. “Jesse and I”—or was it Jesse and me? Damn it anyways—“grew up as best friends. That someone like him would even want to associate with me, let alone be friends with me, was something that took me a long time to get used to. If you’ve lived around these parts for very long, you know, I was a piece of—” I caught myself just in time thanks to Clementine shaking her head and wagging her finger at me from the table right in front of me. I thanked her with a wink. “I was a piece of . . . something . . . and Jesse was the stand-up, amazing guy he still is today. Someone like me didn’t deserve a friend like him. A person like me didn’t deserve his acceptance and kindness and love.” Jesse and Rowen had stopped chuckling and were looking at me with something of a bewildered look, probably because I was speaking from the heart and not straight out of my ass.

“But it wasn’t just Jesse and me who became inseparable. We had a third partner in crime, and the first day I saw her, I convinced myself she was an angel.” Josie’s head tilted, but her back was still to me. “And then when I asked her on the playground if she really was an angel and could I try her wings out, she stuck her tongue out at me and walked away . . . thus ruining my angel theory.” A low laugh resonated through the room. Even I smiled at the memory. “The three of us became best friends, never doing anything without inviting the other two. Just like with Jesse, I convinced myself I didn’t deserve her friendship or care . . . or love.” I had to pause and clear my throat. “My whole life, I let people tell me what I did and didn’t deserve, and my whole life, I believed them. But here’s what I learned from Jesse.” I squeezed his shoulder again before letting go.

“Who we choose to love, and who chooses to love us has nothing to do with being deserving or undeserving. It has to do with who you simply have to love and who simply has to love you. It took me years to realize that my two best friends didn’t love me because I did or didn’t deserve it or that I loved them because they did or didn’t. We loved each other because we wanted to. We chose to. I know another certain someone he had to drill that into as well. A certain someone who promised a lifetime to him this afternoon.” I glanced at Rowen, and she was almost teary-eyed. I’d been under the impression Rowen did teary about as often as I did.

“So that’s what this guy taught me about love. It was nothing to do with deserving, and everything to do with who we want and choose to love. I learned something else about love from our other best friend.” Josie was sitting forward in her seat, still not facing me, but she didn’t have to—I knew she heard every word. “She taught me how to love. She taught me who I wanted to love. Even though I failed at it, stumbled over my own two feet so many times I was face-planting more than I was walking, she showed me the perseverance of love.” I probably should have been looking out into the crowd or at the bride and groom, but all I could do was stare at Josie and spill my guts. I never realized how many guts I had to spill. It was a messy operation.

“I learned something else about love from Rowen. She taught me that when you do find the person you want to love for the rest of your life, it’s okay to embrace change. It’s okay to change yourself. Everyone likes to think that when they find that special someone, that person should accept them and their flaws, vices, and short-comings. Maybe they’re an amazing enough person that they do . . . but they shouldn’t have to. A person should want to change themselves for the better when they find that person. Rowen might not have come out and said it, but she showed me by example.” I nodded at her as she wiped her eyes, then shot me a thumbs-up.

“So Jesse taught me something about love. Rowen taught me something about love. And the example they set for loving each other should teach us all something about love.” I motioned between them. “These two are the couple to beat. The love they have for each other is the kind to aspire to. I don’t know about you, but I sure wouldn’t mind having someone beside me who could give these two a run for their money.” A few people in the crowd clapped. I wasn’t sure if it was because they were trying to give me a hint that it was time to wrap it up or if they just really liked what I was saying. Because, Jesus Christ, I was saying a lot. It was time to wrap it up before I became any more transparent. “I’m going to wrap up this hour and a half sermon with just one more thing—totally off-topic and unrelated, and I’m sorry to Jesse and Rowen and the rest of you. But I have to say this now because I have the mic, and she’s close by, and this might be the only chance I get to say this.” I shot Jesse and Rowen an apologetic look—they just waved me on.

“I want to say I’m sorry for hurting her when all I ever wanted to do was protect her. I’m sorry for running away and being a coward and making you cry . . . and I’m sorry for the million things I need to apologize for.” Since I was staring right at her, I wasn’t making my apology very anonymous. “You were right about everything. Right about how I felt for you, and why I did the things I did, and why I ran away. You were right about so much.” I wanted her to look at me. I wanted to find the strength I always did in her eyes. “But you were wrong about one thing. You told me I was running away because I was afraid to admit I loved you. That wasn’t it.” Finally, her head turned my way and her eyes met mine. They looked as tortured as I felt. “I wasn’t the guy who fell in love with you this past winter.” I shook my head. Pain flashed across her face. “I was the boy who fell in love with you that day on the school bus when we were five. And I’m the man that always will.”