Gabe leaned toward Ben as the party bus coasted down the street. “Maybe you’ll hit another escort with a door tonight. That’ll be fun.”

Even though Gabe had whispered, Ben still looked around to see if anyone had overheard. While he was glad Gabe and Jace had made it up in time to go with him to the bachelor party—which David had thankfully been cool about when Ben had asked if they could come—he also wished Gabe would shut the fuck up. “Seriously, dude?”

“What? No one heard me. Lighten up, Williamson. This is supposed to be fun.” Gabe reclined in his seat and started talking to one of the groomsmen sitting across from him.

Ben did know that the night was supposed to be fun—he’d planned it with that end in mind. They’d already had an amazing dinner at a steakhouse, and now they were heading to a high-end strip club. Ben wasn’t exactly sure what made a strip club “high-end,” but he’d asked the other groomsmen where a good spot was, and they’d said that Aces Wild Saloon was the best place around. Ben hoped they were right. He didn’t need the fragile truce he and David had arrived at to be obliterated because he took him to a shady spot filled with drug-addled women who thought humping the floor naked constituted dancing.

“Let’s do some shots!” one of the other groomsmen, Sean, yelled as he wielded a tequila bottle over his head like a rowdy frat boy. Which Ben supposed most of the guys were, since David had gone to college with them and been in a fraternity there.

“No way, man,” Gabe said as he waved Sean off. “Tequila is like my Aunt Theresa. It always sounds like a good idea to invite her over until it’s two a.m. and we need to force her out of the house.”

Sean’s brow crinkled. “I don’t get it.”

“He’ll feel sick until he pukes it up later,” Ben said as he reached out to take one of the plastic shot glasses Sean was handing out.

Gabe beamed at him. “I love how you get me.”

“Stop flirting with me,” Ben said before tipping the glass back and letting the fiery liquid slide down his throat.

Gabe scoffed. “As if. Jace is way more my type.”

Ben laughed and then looked up to see Sean still standing there. He was staring at them as though he was trying to decide if they were kidding. Ben winked at him, not intending to help him figure it out.

Sean looked flustered before deciding to walk away from them.

Jace, who was sitting across from them, leaned toward him. “Maybe we don’t make the locals uncomfortable tonight.”

“Locals? This is Connecticut, not the town in Deliverance,” Ben said.

“Was there a town in that movie? I thought they were in the woods,” Gabe said.

Ben gave him a withering look before turning back to Jace, who said, “I meant, local more in the sense of them all being friends and we’re outsiders.”

“I’m the groom’s brother. I’m not an outsider,” Ben argued, though he knew it wasn’t true. Ben was as much of an outsider as the rest of them, brother or not. It was a shame. He let his eyes drift to the back of the party bus where David’s friends were all gathered around him, joking and laughing. It had been a long time since Ben had let himself acknowledge the pain that came with thinking about what could have—and should have—been. He looked away, not wanting the sight of what he’d missed out on to ruin the night.

They pulled up outside Aces Wild Saloon about ten minutes later and made their way inside. Ben was glad to see that the place really was nice. They were led to the VIP area, which had red leather couches and low black tables. Their waitress wore a black lace bra and booty shorts and had champagne on ice waiting for them. Ben watched her as she poured, thinking about how much better Ryan would look in that outfit—not because the server wasn’t attractive, but because Ben favored the thought of Ryan practically naked to pretty much anything else.

A dancer came over to the pole in front of them and began gyrating against it. Ben took the moment to text Ryan. I have a question for you.

I may have an answer, she replied.

Ben smiled at her smart-ass reply. Do you have a black lace bra and panties?

That’s . . . not at all what I thought you were going to ask.

What did you think I would ask?

No idea. Just not that.

Ben was thinking of what to say back when another text from Ryan came through. But I might own something like that.

Did you bring it with you? Ben’s reply probably sounded a little overly enthusiastic, but he couldn’t help it. Picturing her in that outfit was a major turn-on.

Are you trying to sext me while you’re at a strip club?

That was quite a leap to make. But if she was game, Ben wouldn’t turn her down. Well, I wasn’t until you brought it up.

Go have fun with your friends, Benjamin.

Oh, hell no. She wasn’t bailing on him after putting the idea of phone sex in his head. What are you wearing?

LMAO, you saw me leave the hotel room. You know what I’m wearing.

You’re not very good at this. Ben smirked at his phone as he hoped a little reverse psychology would get her to play along. It didn’t.

Nice try. See you later ;)

Ben was pretty sure he’d never looked at a phone with such disappointment in his life.

“Dude, put your phone away. You’re going to get us kicked out of here,” Gabe whispered harshly.

“What? Why?” Ben asked as he pocketed his phone.

Gabe looked at him in shock. “Sometimes I don’t know what I see in you.”

Ben rolled his eyes and looked at Jace. “Do you know what the fuck he’s talking about?”

Gabe continued, “We have so little in common. Guess what they say is true: Opposites attract.”

Jace laughed before he answered, “You’re not allowed to have cell phones out in strip clubs.”

“Oh. Yeah, I think I knew that.”

“How do you think you know something?” Jace asked.

Ben shrugged. “I’m gifted.”

They sat back and watched the goings on around them for a bit, making idle chitchat while David’s friends poured drinks down his throat.

“I should bring her as my date to the wedding,” Gabe said as he nodded toward the brunette dancing on the stage in front of them.

“You already have a date,” Jace said.

“Yeah, but I told her I was keeping my options open.”

Ben stared at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Thank you,” Gabe replied.

“What’s your date’s name again?” Jace asked Gabe.

“I don’t know. I’ll go ask her when she’s done dancing up there.” Jace smacked his arm and Gabe burst out laughing. “Apple,” he answered.

“Oh, yeah, how could I forget,” Jace murmured.

Right then, Ben’s attention was grabbed by a familiar voice to his right. “No, man, really, I’m good,” David said as he tried to push his buddy Matt’s hand off his arm.

David was smiling, but his face looked pinched. Ben’s entire body tensed as he sat forward in his seat.

“Come on. Ya gotta do it. It’s a rite of passage,” Matt said as he tried to pull David toward the stage.

David tried to stand his ground, but his other friends pushed in around him, causing him to shuffle forward. “I’m not into it. Let one of the other guys do it.”

“No way,” Sean said. “You have to.”

The group started jostling David in earnest. Ben was off the couch and pushing through the men before he even had time to realize what he was doing. Ben rose to his full height, which wasn’t much taller than some of them, but he sure as fuck was broader. The only one there that could even remotely give him a run for his money was Jace, and since he was standing at Ben’s shoulder, Ben knew he didn’t have anything to worry about there. “He said he wasn’t interested,” Ben said, his voice low but clear.

“He’s nervous. He’ll be fine once he gets up there,” Craig, another groomsman, said.

Ben looked around at the group and immediately knew the guys were wasted. They were all radiating ramped-up testosterone and sloppy decision-making. It was the kind of thing that could turn to hell quickly. “Why don’t we all sit down and relax for a bit?”

“Ben, don’t worry about it. They’re my friends. I can handle them,” David said from behind him.

Ben knew that was probably the truth. David may not have been a hockey player, but his build was similar to Ben’s. Still, Ben couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Come on, David. Stop being a pussy and get up there,” Sean yelled.

The men all started cheering raucously. One of the guys tried to muscle Ben out of the way, which was a bad move. Ben pushed the man backward and he likely would’ve fallen if his friends hadn’t been there to catch him.

“What the fuck, man?” Matt snarled as he got up in Ben’s face.

Ben didn’t move. He just smiled down at the stupid man in front of him.

“You’re going to want to back the fuck up,” Jace said.

“Or what?” Matt said, his eyes never leaving Ben’s.

“Or he’s probably going to beat the shit out of you,” Gabe quipped from Ben’s other side.

“Go for it,” Matt said before pushing Ben roughly.

Before Ben could even react, David pushed past him and punched his friend in the jaw. Matt sprawled out on the ground as Ben gaped. “Holy shit, David. That was impressive.”

David shook his hand out as he replied, “Who do you think taught you to throw a punch?”

Ben smiled at that and David returned it.

“What the hell, David? What’d you hit him for?” Sean asked.

“He should’ve kept his fucking hands off my brother,” David said.

They all started arguing, but were quickly interrupted by a couple of bouncers and a guy who was most likely the manager. “Gentlemen, it’s time you left.”

The group all glared at one another as they walked out of the club. Once outside, David’s friends decided to take cabs back to the hotel. After they took off, David plopped down on a nearby bench. Jace and Gabe looked at Ben, who nodded at them, and they got on the party bus to wait for them. Ben sank down next to David. “Well, that was interesting.”

David let out a humorless laugh. “You could say that.” He leaned forward so his forearms rested on his thighs, and clasped his hands together. “Thanks for having my back.”

“’Course,” Ben replied, though he knew the response was stupid. Him having David’s back was far from a given. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

David rubbed a hand over his face and let out a deep sigh. “Natasha made me promise I wouldn’t get a lap dance. She said looking was fine, but she drew the line at touching.”

Ben looked over at his brother. He couldn’t help but respect a guy who would keep a promise like that, especially since it was unlikely his bride-to-be would have ever found out.

“You probably think it’s lame,” David added.

“Why would I think it was lame?”

“You’re a professional athlete. I’m sure you’ve been around way wilder stuff. Naked girls and lap dances are probably a regular occurrence for you.”

“I’m a hockey player, not a pimp,” Ben replied. He kept his tone neutral even though it stung how little his brother knew him. Or how little he thought of him apparently.

David turned toward him, his gaze assessing his brother, and Ben wondered if maybe he hadn’t kept the hurt out of his voice as well as he’d hoped. “That was a shitty thing to say.” David looked down at his hands as he rubbed them together slowly before looking back at Ben. “I’m sorry.”

Ben took a sharp inhale at the words. Even though David wasn’t apologizing for what had happened between them years ago, the fact that he was apologizing at all—something he hadn’t done since long before their fight over Natasha—soothed something inside Ben. It felt like progress. And Ben would take that however it came. “Don’t worry about it.”

They looked at one another for a bit longer, letting the words mean more than maybe they should have. Regardless, when David stood and held a hand out to help Ben up, Ben grabbed it, and for the first time in a long time, let himself rely on his brother not to let him fall.

* * *

Ryan looked around at the large room with high ceilings and white walls. “This is . . . fun,” she said, trying to put enough inflection in her voice to make her sound believable.

When Natasha had invited Ryan to her bachelorette party, Ryan was warmed by the invitation. Now she was kind of wishing Natasha had rethought asking her to come. Not that painting was a bad time per se. It just wasn’t Ryan’s idea of a good time either.

“Yours looks so good. Mine doesn’t resemble the picture at all,” Renee said as she leaned in to look at Ryan’s painting.

They had been tasked with painting a night scene with lightning bugs flying around. Ryan had dumped a bunch of dark blue paint on her canvas and then put yellow splotches all over it. If Renee’s looked worse, she should have to repeat kindergarten.

Natasha’s bridesmaids all worked with a focus that Ryan thought would have rivaled Michelangelo’s when he painted the Sistine Chapel. They also all oohed and ahhed over Natasha’s work like the success of her marriage depended on the outcome of this BYOB painting party.

Taking another sip of her water, Ryan decided to go for broke and add a moon. There wasn’t one in the model, but she was feeling rebellious.

Ryan was surprised that Ben’s and Natasha’s moms hadn’t come along. It wasn’t like they were going to get rowdy and make bad decisions that they wouldn’t want the family matriarchs to witness.

The night plodded along with the women downing three bottles of wine between the seven of them and exuberant conversation that echoed off the walls and felt like knives being driven into Ryan’s ears.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like all the women who were there. What little time she’d spent with them had been positive. But they were acting like high school cheerleaders at homecoming—which Ryan had neither been to nor desired to go to—instead of playing with paint in a room that looked like an adult preschool.

Once they all finished and posed for pictures with their paintings, they walked out onto the street, carrying the evidence of their shortcomings like Academy Awards.

“Should we walk to the karaoke bar? We could burn off the calories from dinner,” Deirdre said with the excitement only capable of coming from someone who worked as a Zumba instructor. She’d invited Ryan to one of her classes upon meeting her, which was a sweet gesture even though it made her infinitely happy that she and Ben were leaving Connecticut the day after the wedding.

Thinking of Ben prompted Ryan to check her phone. Even though she’d told Ben to stop texting her, she was kind of disappointed he’d listened. She was going to need something to occupy her while she watched people sing karaoke.

The group agreed to walk so they made their way down the busy street that was teeming with bars and restaurants. Ryan took in the bright lights and activity around her before pointing her finger at one specific place. “What’s Honky Tonk?”

Renee looked to where Ryan was pointing before saying, “Oh, that place just opened up. It’s supposed to be a southern-inspired bar, but I haven’t been there.”

“It says they have a mechanical bull,” Ryan noted.

“Oh my God, could you imagine us riding a mechanical bull?” Jasmine asked.

“No,” Sascha replied with a laugh.

The group had stopped and stared at the building with curiosity. “That’s totally why we should do it,” Ryan said.

They all turned to look at her. “I don’t know,” Sacha said.

Ryan pressed on. “Come on. Bachelorette parties are for doing things outside of your comfort zone.” Not that she’d been to any before, but whatever got these girls to go into Honky Tonk and forget about karaoke was a win. “It’ll make for a great story.”

The story angle was evidently the right one to play, because the girls all quickly agreed and they made their way into the bar.

The first thing Ryan noticed was how crowded it was. There were peanut shells all over the floor, and the décor had an old saloon feel to it. There was a band playing country music and people were dancing on the small dance floor. Ryan was also surprised to find a diverse mix of people inside, which made it even more inviting. This was the kind of place you made memories in.

The women crowded around the bar and ordered drinks. Renee turned to ask Ryan what she wanted, to which Ryan replied, “A water is good.”

Renee gave her an odd look before turning back to the bar and ordering a bottle of water. When she handed it to Ryan, she asked, “I noticed you didn’t have anything to drink earlier either. Not that it’s any of my business, but is it okay that we’re all drinking?”

Christ, she thinks I’m an alcoholic. Renee looked genuinely concerned, and Ryan appreciated it. “It’s fine. I don’t have a problem or anything like that. Just not a big drinker myself.”

Renee didn’t look completely appeased by the explanation, but it would have to do. Ryan wasn’t really in the mood to go into her family history of substance abuse with Ben’s future in-law. Thankfully, Renee just nodded and offered her a small smile before turning toward the rest of the girls. They all raised their glasses in some kind of cheers before draining them and ordering another round. The mixed drinks combined with all the wine they’d already consumed made them relax almost instantly. Before long, the women were all jumping around the dance floor like lunatics who’d escaped from an asylum. And despite being completely sober, it was still the most fun Ryan had had in a long time.

Another round later, the mechanical bull was finally mentioned. “I think Natasha should try it,” Joy said slyly.

“Oh no. I’m not breaking my neck right before my wedding. Someone else do it.”

The women bickered about why they each were an unsuitable sacrifice to the mechanical bull gods. After a few minutes, Ryan had had enough. “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Sascha asked, practically oozing with excitement.

Ryan shrugged. “Sure.” She’d been watching people try it since they’d walked in. And while no one was going to be the next big bullrider on the circuit, it didn’t look too bad. What was the worst that could happen?

The worst that could happen was the girls’ squealing attracting the attention of every person in the bar. Everyone watched as Ryan put on the cowboy hat they handed her and climbed on the fake bull. Her eyes glanced at the clock and the dry-erase board of times next to it as she moved around to find the most comfortable position she could. She was pretty sure each of the girls had a cell phone pointed in her direction, but she didn’t pay them much mind as she tightly gripped the rope and threw her other hand in the air. If she was going to do this, she was going to commit.

The motion of the bull started off slowly. Ryan quickly found its rhythm and went with it. However, as soon as she’d gotten acclimated, the speed increased. Then it increased some more. Soon, Ryan’s forearm was burning as she tried to hang on. Her thighs were getting tired from trying to grip the bull. She was just about to give up when she heard someone yell, “You’re ten seconds away from the record. Hang on!”

And suddenly, Ryan was overcome with the desire to have a piece of herself remain in this town when she left it. Most likely she’d never get the chance to come back, but she could leave her mark on it all the same. Even if that mark only constituted her name on a dry-erase board.

When the ten seconds passed, the entire place erupted in a raucous cheer. Ryan got so caught up in the celebration, she flew off the bull and landed on the mat with a hard thwack. She lay there for a minute, letting her breath come back to her, and letting the thrill of victory pulse through her.

The girls gathered around her, yelling about how awesome she was while they helped her up. It was a beautiful moment—one Ryan was sure she’d always remember. But just in case—“Please tell me one of you got that on video.”