I looked up to see Linnie still looking at me, patient, and I knew she’d wait until I found the words. “It was like my best dream coming true,” I finally said. “I just wanted to be able to travel back in time and tell my twelve-year-old self that this was actually happening. That there was a world in which it could happen.”

“So, kissing Jesse. How was it?” The second after she’d asked this, she shuddered. “First of all, ew. I can’t believe I’m even talking to you about this. Jesse is like two.”

“He’s older than me,” I pointed out.

“You’re like two.”

“Thanks, Lin.”

“But,” she said, looking steadily at me. “How was it?”

I had a flashback to the night, to the heart-pounding sensation of it, the knee-weakening kisses I couldn’t even remember without getting flushed and losing my train of thought entirely. “Amazing.”

“And now?”

I glanced back at the lobby and saw Jesse standing next to Mike by the bar, laughing at something J.J. was saying. “I don’t know,” I said, even though I did know, a little, as I thought about the way he’d looked at me when I’d dropped Mike off, the way that he’d slipped his hands under my shirt to touch my bare skin, the way he’d just touched the small of my back. “He texted me that he would see me soon, but that was before I knew he would . . . you know, be here.”

“But what do you want to happen?”

I just stared at her for a moment—the answer to that question was so obvious. I thought of Jesse, that night up in his guesthouse. And I thought of the years before that, of all the years that he’d been Jesse Foster, always just out of reach.

Linnie must have been able to read what I was thinking, because she nodded. “Well, it’s too bad. I think Bill likes you.”

“Bill?” I blinked at her, then shook my head. “No.”

“You don’t think he’s cute?”

“Sure he’s cute,” I said, since he was. “But he’s not Jesse.”

Linnie looked at me for a long moment, then gave me a smile. “Go have your fun. Be safe,” she added sternly, as I made a face.

“Linnie, ew.”

“Did you shave your legs?”

“Lin.”

“Is that a no?”

“That’s a ‘it’s none of your business.’ ”

“Listen, I’m the one who taught you how, so show some respect.”

She started to head back across the lobby, and I grabbed her arm before she could go too far out of reach and get swept up by wedding well-wishers. “Don’t tell Mike.”

“Of course I’m not going to tell him. But do you think you should?”

“Me?”

“If this is going to be something real,” she said, raising an eyebrow at me.

I took a breath to answer her just as Will came out of the restaurant and stood in the doorway.

“If I could have your attention,” he said, in a loud voice. “If you wouldn’t mind following me, the rehearsal dinner is about to begin.”

CHAPTER 14

Or, To the Happy Couple Or, What’s in a Name?

* * *

AND WE JUST WANT TO say that we wish you all the happiness in the world,” Priya said as she lifted her glass. She was standing with the Jennys at their end of the table as they gave their shared toast.

“Yes,” Jenny W. said, raising her glass as well. “We love you both and want nothing but a wonderful future for you guys.”

“But,” Jenny K. said, her brows drawing together. “Rodney. If you do anything to hurt Linnie . . .”

“Anything at all,” Priya added, her voice growing low and serious.

“We will find you and it will not be pretty.” All the bridesmaids glowered at Rodney for a second. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, keeping a faltering smile on his face, like he wasn’t entirely sure if they were joking or not.

But then Priya smiled and raised her glass again, and the Jennys followed suit. “To the happy couple!”

I smiled and raised my own glass, then set it down and speared another forkful of chocolate cake. So far, the dinner had been going great, the bridesmaids’ speech notwithstanding. All twenty-one of us were around one long table—Linnie and Rodney, Rodney’s parents and mine, Max, Brooke, my brothers, Jesse, Rodney’s sister and brother-in-law, me, his cousin Marcus and his wife, the bridesmaids, and Uncle Stu. Bill had done a great job with the decorations—everything was arranged beautifully, and there wasn’t a koala to be seen.

As the food was being served, Rodney and Linnie had welcomed everyone, thanked them for coming to share this occasion with them, and talked about how much the assembled guests meant to them. Linnie had only gotten teary once during this. For the most part, she had held it together, which I thought was a pretty good sign for tomorrow.

Rodney and Linnie had divided the toasts up so that some people would give them at the rehearsal dinner and some people would give them at the wedding. My mother had given one about how she felt like she’d watched Rodney growing up alongside Linnie, and how he’d felt like her son for long before it would become official tomorrow. Rodney had sniffled when she’d said this and then had had to clear his throat loudly before he could thank her once she was finished.

Things had started to go off the rails when my uncle Stu decided to give his own speech, which was basically a pitch to join him in selling supplements. Rodney’s dad had redeemed things somewhat with his speech, talking about how proud he was of Rodney and how big transitions like this are always a challenge—but necessary to have the kind of life you can be proud of. When the General finished his speech, most people were blinking very intently down at their place settings.

The bridesmaids’ speech had started out sentimental, with Jenny K., as the maid of honor, kicking things off with an anecdote about when she first became friends with Linnie. But when the other bridesmaids joined in, the toast basically turned into a litany of stories about Linnie from college that I was fairly certain a roomful of relatives didn’t necessarily need to hear and now was finishing up with a not-so-subtle threat of bodily harm.

I set my fork down and glanced toward the other end of the table, where Jesse was sitting. He was looking down at his place setting, though, and I glanced away before it became obvious that I was staring. We hadn’t had a chance to talk yet, just the two of us, although occasionally I would glance in his direction to find that he was looking at me and I’d hold his gaze for as long as I felt I could without drawing suspicion. It was, I had found, a unique kind of torture to be this close to Jesse, in the same room as him, and still not be able to talk. Because there was so much I needed to know: When he’d said he would see me tonight, was this it? Or were we actually going to have time alone together? I’d thought about texting Jesse, but the last thing I wanted was for Mike to see my number on his screen and start asking questions.

Not that I was entirely sure Mike would have noticed—even as I was mostly looking at Jesse, I couldn’t help but see that Mike would smile and clap when everyone was smiling and clapping, but mostly he was hunched over the drink Danny had gotten him, not looking like he was making much of a dent in it.

Our waitress was walking around with coffee, and I nodded for a refill, pushing my cup forward and taking another bite of cake. I looked around and saw, to my surprise, Bill standing by the back doors. I’d seen him rushing around with his uncle before the dinner began, but I’d just assumed that once things had gotten going, he would have left. He met my eye, and I gave him a smile, starting to raise my hand in a wave before I realized I was still holding my fork. I quickly set it down, then checked to make sure I hadn’t gotten chocolate on my dress.

“Okay, my turn.” J.J. was standing up a few seats down the table from me, clearing his throat and holding up his phone. “I hope you don’t mind—I wrote down my notes for my toast on this. I’m not, like, texting someone.” There was scattered laughter, and he smiled broadly at the assembled guests before taking a deep breath. “So. I’d like to start by sharing a story about my dear older sister, Linnea. I think she knows the one I’m going to say.” Linnie groaned and buried her head in her hands, and J.J. nodded. “Oh, she knows. So. When she was ten and I was seven, she had me convinced, I mean absolutely convinced—” The low, thumping beat of electronica music suddenly filled the room, and J.J. frowned at his phone. “Whoops, that’s me.” He squinted at the screen, and then his face brightened. “Oh, awesome,” he said as he answered the call and pressed the button to put it on speaker. “Hello?”