Fed up and no longer feeling thankful, I haul ass down our driveway, in much the same way Azalea just did. With angry, jerky movements, I dial Simon’s number, knowing he’ll be home. Even if his dad were alive, there’s no way in hell he’d ever spend a holiday with him.

“’Sup?” he answers, sounding slightly buzzed.

“On my way over,” I clip out before ending the call.

Ten minutes later, I’m rolling up his driveway and slamming my truck into park. Simon meets me at the door, unopened beer in hand. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Cut the shit and hand me that can.” I try to reach for it, but he pulls it out of my reach. “Don’t fuck with me, Simon,” I all but growl.

“You want to drink, you tell me why you’re here. Last I heard from the lovebirds next door, you finally grew a pair and asked Azalea to spend Thanksgiving with you. Yet, here you are.”

God, sometimes, I hate that Simon and Myla Rose are neighbors. Then again, it wouldn’t make a damn difference either way since they’re so close. Like, sibling close. Like, he almost beat Cash to a pulp before he pulled his head out of his ass and made things right with Myla Rose.

“You wanna know why I’m here? Because I once again managed to mess everything up with Azalea. Except this time, I didn’t even do anything.”

Simon’s brow furrows as he passes me the icy-cold can before turning and heading into his house. I follow behind him, popping the top on the Yuengling as I go. Savoring the feel of the cool liquid rushing down my throat, I watch Simon tap away at his phone screen.

I’m well-aware he’s texting Cash, so it comes as no surprise when I hear the front door open and close. “Y’all wanna tell me why I’m over here instead of home with my wife?” Cash asks as he stomps into the kitchen with Brody secured to his chest in some sort of complicated-looking wrap.

“Girl trouble,” Simon replies in a bored tone, rolling his eyes in a way that makes me think of my Little Bit.

“You got a girl?” Cash asks, an incredulous look painting his features.

A look of longing flashes across Simon’s face so fast that I’m not one hundred percent sure I even saw it at all. “Naw, not me.” He points over his shoulder in my direction. “This asshole.”

“Aw, hell. What now? One-a these days the two of you are gonna explode.” Cash stalks over to the fridge and pulls a Coke from the bottom drawer. Sometimes, it’s weird seeing him so at ease in Simon’s home, given their history.

I snort at his comment just as Simon says, “More like implode. Now sit your asses down so Drake can tell us what happened.” I start to do just that, but Simon cuts me off. “Wait, wait, wait.” He waves a hand in my direction and turns to address Cash. “Lemme hold Brody.”

“How many drinks you had?” Cash asks as he unties the piece of fabric securing Brody to his chest.

“Just the one. I’d never put your son in danger,” Simon tells him, and Cash walks over and places Brody in his arms. Real talk—we all love that baby just as much as the girls in our little circle. They just always hog his ass.

“As I was sayin’ . . . I took Azalea out to FIRE earlier this week on a real date and asked her to spend Thanksgiving with me. Had to just about beg, but she caved and agreed to it. Came over for dinner tonight, and it felt like shit was finally moving forward with us. Like I was finally getting through to her that I want more. That I’ve always wanted more. Then Dad goes and mentions that Kelly’s the one who told me about FIRE in the first place, and she lost it.”

“Aw, shit,” Simon says into his fist. Meanwhile, Cash is looking at me with a mixture of confusion and pity. “Yeah, I bet she just about clawed your eyes out, huh?”

“Pretty much. Tore outta the house like a bat out of hell, tears trailing down her cheeks.”

Brody starts to fuss, and Simon begins to lightly bounce him while pacing the length of his kitchen. Cash watches him for a second and then asks, “Hold up—who’s Kelly? Thought you’ve always been obsessed with Azalea?”

“Obsessed may be a strong word.” They both level me with a disbelieving look. “Yeah, it’s always been her. But shit happens. Life happens. We never got together. Every time I was single, she was seein’ someone, and vice versa. Then, right before I graduated, she made her move. I was so damn happy that I completely forgot I’d asked the girl I’d been very casually hooking up with to meet me at this party, and she walked in right when things were heatin’ up. When Little Bit asked who she was, Kelly informed her that she was my girlfriend.”

This story is old news to Simon, but Cash winces. “I know how bad it sounds, but I swear, Kelly and I weren’t serious. I’d gone up the weekend before to get familiar with the campus, and we met and hooked up. One time! And shit, I was eighteen. I wanted to get lucky the next weekend too, so I invited her down. Didn’t plan on Azalea makin’ her move. Didn’t think Kelly would read so far into my invitation either.” I scoff at my own stupidity, then and now. “Guess I didn’t think of much of anything.”

“I get all that. I do, but what does any of that have to do with tonight?” Cash asks. And on the tail of his question, Simon adds, “I’m guessing Azalea didn’t know you and Kelly were still friends?”

“Y’all stayed friends?” Cash sounds incredulous.

“Yeah, we did. Not crazy close or anything, but I explained to her that one hookup didn’t make us exclusive, and she agreed. Said she reacted out of jealousy. Throughout college, we kept in touch. We lost touch after, but about a year ago, she added me on Facebook and messaged me. Said she was moving back to the area, and we met for drinks one night. Totally platonic. She mentioned she was opening a small farmer’s market and was wondering if she could stock our nuts.” Both Simon and Cash snicker like twelve-year-old boys when I say the word “nuts,” and I pause to grin. But only a little.

“So, I mention it to Dad, and he tells me to set up a meeting. He loved her spiel, and then one day, she was out at the farm picking up an order, and Brent was there, and they hit it off immediately. Been together ever since.

“A few weeks ago, he took her to FIRE, and when she came by to bring him lunch, she mentioned how much she loved it to me and my old man. So, I took Azalea, and earlier at dinner, Dad announced that Kelly was the one who told me about it, and she drew her own very fucking wrong conclusions.”

“Lemme be devil’s advocate real quick,” Simon interjects, settling Brody into the crook of his arm. “You can see why she’d draw that conclusion, right?”

“I mean, maybe a little, but no. Not really.”

Cash watches us like we’re the most interesting sideshow act he’s ever seen.

“Bro, think about it. You two have spent what, for the rest of us, feels like an eternity dancing around one another. Every time she puts herself out there, your good friend Kelly pops up and knocks her down. Her pride is hurting just as bad as her heart. She thinks you’re not serious about her, and in her head, this is all the proof she needs.

“Look, all I’m gonna say is this. If you want her as much as I think you do, and if you love her the way I think you do, then you need to get this shit figured out. Give her a day or two to blow off some steam, and talk to her. When I almost lost Myla Rose”—Cash pauses, pain marring his face—“I just wish she and I would’ve communicated better, and I think that’s y’all’s real breakdown here. A whole fucking lot of assumptions and nowhere near enough honesty. Now, as much fun as this Bros-Giving has been, gimme my son. We’re going home.”

Cash secures Brody back into his wrap and takes off for the door, not sparing us a single glance. Then again, if I had Azalea at home waiting on me, I’d do the same damn thing.

“So,” Simon says, regarding me with his fingers steepled under his chin. “Whatcha gonna do?”

“Guess I’ll do what Cash said. Let her simmer down and then see if she’ll listen. Unless you got a better idea?”

“Naw. That sounds just fine. Good luck to ya and all, but I’m done with this topic. Let’s play some Madden.”

Raising my nearly empty can to him in a toast, I tell him, “Let’s do it!”