“I really need to start knocking,” a voice said from the door.

Max and I jumped away from each other, I hit my chest, he burped, and I’m pretty sure there was some ball scratching and shifty eyes.

“Found the Advil.” Jason lifted it into the air. “Anything you boys need to tell me?”

“He loves Milo!” Max shouted.

“Shh!” I smacked him on the chest as Milo moaned in her sleep.

“No shit.” A bored expression crossed Jason’s face. “So why are you hitting on him, Max?”

“He wasn’t,” I said defensively, my voice cracking. “He said that I couldn’t just come out and tell Milo how I felt, that she may overthink things and freak.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, shit-for-brains is probably right.”

“And again, been called worse,” Max pointed out. “Not a big deal. Just trying to help a friend so I can finally go on a date where I don’t feel guilty that Milo’s home watching Star Wars and eating her body weight in ice cream.”

“You’re a good friend.” Jason pounded Max’s back in appreciation.

“I’m the best friend,” Max said crisply. “And I don’t care how much you love her, Colt. Or that you want to make fireman babies—I’m still the best friend, you feel me?”

“Actually it was more like you were feeling him earlier . . .” Jason piped up.

“Yeah.” I held out my fist and bumped his knuckles. “I feel you.”

“Good.” Max looked at the clock on the nightstand. “Now let’s go over this again. She put you through hell. You need to make sure she understands that regardless of what she’s done to you, you’ll still fight for her. Think you can do that tomorrow?”

I nodded, and then inspiration hit. Jenna. “Oh, yeah, I think I can manage.”

“Awesome.”

The room fell silent.

I looked at Jason; he was leaning against the wall, head hung.

“Still going through with it?” Max asked what I was thinking.

“Got any bright ideas in that head of yours for me?” Jason laughed humorlessly. “After all, the bridesmaids said she didn’t drink all night.”

“Actually.” Max snapped his fingers. “I think I do.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

MILO

The first thought that came to me as I tried to remove my sandpaper tongue from the roof of my mouth?

Tequila may have been a bad idea.

The second thought?

Colton. Naked. A naked Colton standing before me in all his godlike glory and me staring. Like a psychopath. I mean, I should have said something, right? Like “Oh, you’re hot,” or “Wow, work out much?” Instead I’m pretty sure I said something inappropriate and then yelled at him in the car.

I believe puking was also involved in my night of fun, as well as a heavy dose of shame.

“Ugh . . .” I moved to a sitting position.

“Feeling better?” Max held out a cup of coffee.

“Don’t shout!”

“Trust me, you did plenty of shouting in bed last night.” He winked.

Holy crap.

I set the coffee down on the nightstand and looked under the covers to make sure my clothes were still on.

Was I that girl?

The drunk hussy who slept with her best friend?

“Was it good for you?” Max leaned toward me.

“Yes?”

“Wow, I expected you to be more enthusiastic.”

“It was awesome.”

Max rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even taste it.”

“P-pardon?”

“You have to put it in your mouth to actually experience the flavor.”

I felt my cheeks turn about seven shades of red before Max grabbed the discarded coffee.

“Now, taste.”

“The coffee?”

He frowned, then offered a sly smile. “Of course the coffee, why? What did you think I was talking about?”

The smolder in my cheeks was going to light my face on fire.

“Aw, sweetie.” Max laughed and pulled me in for a hug. I winced as my pounding head made contact with his chest. “Believe me, if we would have slept together, you would remember, even drunk, you would remember.”

“Someone’s cocky.”

“Confident.” He released me. “So are we upset or are we okay?”

“We?”

“Partners.” He winked. “For life. You and me, we’re a we.” He lifted the coffee to his lips. “Hey, that rhymed. How badass am I, after getting drunk last night?” He nodded his head. “Sharp as a tack.”

The coffee slid out of the cup and onto his hand.

Lots of cursing followed.

Then flailing.

“Yeah.” I took the coffee away. “Sharp as something.”

“So.” Max reached behind him and pulled out my diary. “Curious minds want to know, when you drew that picture of the house you and Colton were going to live in once you got married in front of the queen of England, did you purposefully draw the dog without a tail or were you just confused?”

“Give me that!” I lunged for the pink diary. “How the hell did you find it?”

Max held it above his head and took a sip of coffee. “People always hide interesting stuff under their mattresses, though I had you pinned for more of a signed ’N Sync poster, considering all the stupid hearts around JC Chasez’s face on the torn-up poster in your closet.” The freak had gone in my closet too? “This is just as good. Though I have to admit, I’m a bit disappointed that you chose Prince Harry to walk you down the aisle. Do I mean nothing to you?”