My nerves lessened as I approached Andre’s door, like an addict knowing he was moments away from his fix. Or perhaps more like a person who meditated preparing to sit down on their little mat for a moment of serenity. Yeah, that sounded better. Maybe I needed to start meditating.

Andre answered after only a couple of seconds, his smile broadening when he saw me. “I figured I’d be hearing from you tonight. Although I predicted a phone call.” He stepped aside, allowing me to enter. “Dinner with Daddy must have been even more pleasant than normal.”

I glowered at him. “No. I’m merely going above and beyond friend duty. From where I sat, it looked like you were ready to rip your skin off.” I poked teasingly at his chest. “I assumed Mommy set her boy up on another date and you might need to vent.”

Andre shoved my hand away with a laugh. “You’re not wrong.” He shut the door and headed toward the kitchen. “Beer or something stronger?”

“Water, actually, if you don’t mind.”

He paused, giving me a quizzical look from the edge of the peninsula.

“You know my father. We can’t talk about all the ways I’m not living up to his expectations without a good two or three servings of bourbon. And I have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Suit yourself.” Andre prepared a glass of ice water for me and popped the top off the beer bottle for himself before we reconvened on the sofa in the living room. “Not living up to expectations, huh? And you’re here just because you were concerned about my date?” He cocked a knowing eyebrow.

“Fine.” I held up my free hand in surrender. “Guilty as charged. Venting about Daddy over the phone wasn’t going to cut it. I figured harassing you in person about Mommy’s latest love option would make me feel better.”

Andre lifted the bottle to his lips and scowled as he drank, then lowered it once more. “Okay, can we stop with the Mommy and Daddy stuff? It’s wigging me out.”

“You started it.”

He swatted at me. “And I’m finishing it.” Chuckling, he settled back into the crook of the sofa. “Our usual game sound good to you?”

Though I rolled my eyes in mock protest, the rest of my tension faded away at the familiarity of our routine. “If you must.”

Andre pretended to consider before launching in. “Your dad was talking about the wedding, I’m assuming?”

“Of course.”

“Figured.” Andre used the tip of the beer bottle to press against his fingertips as he listed the reasons. “You’re an Epstein, the king of the founding families, so you have to be in attendance. There you will schmooze, charm, and socialize while remaining aloof and somewhat untouchable. You will talk about an upcoming interview with some magazine or television show, even if you have to make it up.” Andre paused, then narrowed his eyes. “Did he really go for the gold?”

I shrugged. “I’m here in person, aren’t I?”

Andre shook his head with a sigh and continued, giving oomph to his John Carlisle-Epstein impression. “Above all, you are to keep your chin high and make it clear that you are not bothered in the least by attending a wedding. That, in fact, having your fiancé abandon you at the altar on national television not only wasn’t humiliating for you, but only proved that he wasn’t good enough to become an Epstein. Furthermore, no one is good enough for you, and the whole town knows it.” His voice returned to normal. “That about cover it?”

“You didn’t quite get the condescending quality that communicates what an utter disappointment I am to him with every syllable, but, yeah, you were close.”

“I’ll practice on that for next time.”

With his wink, I laughed and a wave of gratitude washed over me for Andre Rivera. Even in that moment, I didn’t miss how unexpected that twist of life had been. That this particular man would’ve become my lifeline during the past few years. But… he had. Being able to find even a sliver of humor in the rather torturous dinner a few hours before made that abundantly clear. Him making the whole thing bearable was gift enough. The fact he made it laughable? The man was priceless.

“Okay, my turn.” I leaned forward on the sofa. “This was a setup in every sense of the word. You didn’t realize it was happening, right?”

Andre didn’t bother replying with words, just gave me a look that said, Obviously.

Laughing again, I launched in. “This one was the daughter of some San Francisco socialite family. She has more money than God, but donates her time to saving children whose families don’t buy them organic peanut butter or some shit. She runs a clinic for puppies suffering hair loss. And she—” I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “—was the centerfold in Latin Beauties Weekly twice over.”

Andre threw back his head and laughed, then smacked his hand over his mouth as he glanced down the hallway. When all was silent, and it was clear we didn’t wake up Katniss, he lowered his hand once more, but still chuckled. “Puppies suffering hair loss and a centerfold?”

“As long as she didn’t use the balding puppies in the photo shoot, it’s plausible.” I shrugged. “Besides, seems like a fair guess. That one last year did something similar.”

His brows creased. “Which one?”

“Like I’m supposed to remember their names? I don’t know. She… was a masseuse for dogs or something, right?”

“Oh, right!” Andre’s brown eyes widened. “But not a masseuse. She was an actual therapist for pets.” Chuckling he shook his head again. “I think that was as close as Mom thought she was going to get to finding me a doctor.” Narrowing his eyes, he pointed his beer bottle at me. “And there’s no such publication as Latin Beauties Weekly.”

I shrugged again. “How am I supposed to know? You’re the one who likes the ladies.” I pretended to consider for half a second. “But… if there’s a magazine called Latin Hunks Weekly, I’ll be pretty pissed if you’ve been holding out.”

Andre rolled his eyes and laughed again. “You are a mess.”

I tapped my glass of water to his beer bottle. “We’re two men in our forties sitting here bitching about our parents. I’d say we both qualify as messes.” At my words, some of his humor faded, and I rushed to fix it. “Although it’s been a while since your mom has tried to set you up. You did a good job of putting your foot down after the last one.”

“Apparently not good enough.” His humor didn’t return. “I called her as soon as I got home tonight. I’m afraid I may have put my foot down a little too hard this time. I know she means well, but…” He let his words fade as he shook his head.

Sadness lingered over him, reminding me of when we first started hanging out. That had been our bond—our sadness, our despair, our realizing life wasn’t about to go the way we planned. Somewhere, gradually, that connection turned into a friendship, and those sad moments gave way to laughter. And when there wasn’t laughter, there was at least peace and camaraderie.

Before I could figure out a way to lighten the mood, his dark eyes flashed at me again. “You didn’t recognize her?”

It only took me a second to realize who he meant. “No. Should I have?”

Andre started to reply, but then shut his mouth, thinking better of it.

It was the only hint I needed. “She’s connected to Harrison?”

He nodded, resigned. “Yeah. She was a cheerleader for the Titans and acted as Harrison’s beard occasionally it seems.” Andre winced again. “Sorry.”

Though Harrison’s name didn’t sting like it had at the beginning, after the dinner with my father, I couldn’t help but feel slightly slapped. “No need to be sorry.” A horrible thought occurred then. “You’re not actually bringing her to the wedding, are you?” It was bad enough knowing I’d see Harrison there. Although some nameless cheerleader I didn’t know surely couldn’t make things worse.

“Of course not! There are no dates, no dating, you know that.” Andre jerked. “Which was just what I reminded my mother tonight, again.”

Though I’d known that was going to be his answer, relief flooded through me. At least there wouldn’t be another connection to Harrison at the wedding, like there wasn’t already enough. And I wouldn’t have to see… I flinched before the thought finished forming.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Andre gave me a puzzled expression.

“Yeah.” His gaze on me was too much. “You know, I think I’ve changed my mind. A beer sounds pretty great.”

“Sure. Hold on.”

Andre started to get up, but I stopped him. “No, I’ll get it. Be right back.” I popped up from the sofa and headed into the kitchen, needing the space more than I needed the beer. I opened the fridge and took longer than necessary choosing between the three varieties he had.

I wouldn’t have to see Andre sitting with her at the wedding. That’s what I’d been about to think. That’s what I’d thought. Stupid. Ridiculous. It was the last thing I should be feeling.

Stupid, ridiculous, or not, it was what I was feeling. Even at dinner, despite the never-ending lecture from my father, I’d not been able to keep my gaze from flicking over to Andre and the woman every so often. Most of the time, I felt a commiserate pity for him and looked forward to doing exactly what we were doing—ending up at Andre’s house to bitch about the ludicrousness of our founding family nonsense. But somewhere in there, there’d been that little tingle of fear, of dread. That maybe… time, or Andre’s mother, would find a woman who lit a spark.

Andre swore he was never going to date, never going to move on. That he’d already had the love of his life and that was it. He was done.

I knew he believed it. Maybe he was right, but… I doubted he was. At some point, maybe in a week, maybe in a couple of years, a woman would come into his life and change things. Probably not one his mother set him up with, but who knew?

There’d be a day where I’d be expected to go to another wedding. Expected to sit there, with my chin held high, as I watched Andre Rivera exchange vows.

No. That’s not how that would go. And at the realization, the refrigerator seemed to belch a gust of freezing air to my face that settled around my heart. Maybe that’s how it would’ve played out a few years ago, but not anymore. Now… I’d be standing with him. I’d be one of Andre’s groomsmen, probably standing right beside Adrian.

What a horrendous thought.

“How many beers are you getting in there?”

Andre’s voice broke through the image, and I shook myself. “Just taking my time deciding. Do you need a second one?”

There was a pause as he considered. “No, I’m good. Thanks. But there’s a bag of Doritos I hid behind the boxes of oatmeal in the cupboard. Want to snag that?”

“You got it!” I pulled out a beer and was thankful for an excuse to spend a couple more moments digging for the Doritos to get myself under control. I never would have dreamed I’d build a friendship with Andre Rivera. It had happened gradually, but intensely. When I first realized those feelings of friendship were blossoming into something more on my side, it had nearly been enough to make me run. But I hadn’t, and I was glad.

As I got the bag of chips and headed back into the living room with my beer, another wave of peace settled over me as Andre smiled at me from his spot on the sofa, his handsome face open and relaxed.

I knew I would never have what I wanted with Andre, but that was okay. What we had was enough; it was wonderful. And unlike what I’d experienced with Harrison, it wouldn’t end. Even when there was a woman of his own choosing eating with him at Mabel’s. Even when I was standing at Andre’s side as he got married. At least I wouldn’t lose him.

Andre took the Doritos as he studied me. “You sure you’re okay? I’m sorry that I brought up Harrison.”

“No. Don’t be sorry.” I plopped down next to him, closer than I’d been before, needing his nearness, grateful that the bag of chips could be used as an excuse. Even so, I didn’t want to keep talking, afraid if we did, with as vulnerable as I felt in that moment, I’d accidentally say something that might alter our friendship. “Want to turn on a movie?”

For a second, it looked like Andre was going to argue or push the point, but true to form, he gave me what I needed by simply smiling and then ripping open the bag. “You got it. What sounds good? Comedy? Sci-fi?”

I started to say I didn’t care, but a slight squeak of a door sounded down the hall, and after a few seconds, Katniss appeared, eyes blurry from sleep and her long black hair tousled. She smiled when she saw me and started to give a little wave, then her gaze landed on what her dad held. “Doritos?”

The accusal in her tone was almost laughable, as was the guilt evident in Andre’s when he replied. “Yeah. We were just… These were…” He held the bag out to her. “Want one?”

Katniss hurriedly pulled out a handful. “Can I hang out with you guys? I don’t want to be alone.”

Andre only considered for a moment. “Of course, love. Want me to fix you a drink? Water? Milk?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

I scooted over slightly and patted the cushion between Andre and me. “Get over here.”

Within a matter of minutes, Andre had an old movie playing on the TV, and the three of us snuggled on the couch as we had many times over the past few years. As the movie played, I didn’t let any thoughts of past wrongs or worries over future hurts seep in. I simply enjoyed the quiet moment of peace with two people I loved, the warmth of the blanket the three of us shared, and the cheesy crunch of Doritos.