“Oh.” Max’s eyes blinked open. “Good call. I’ll just leave you two alone, unless you need a chaperone or something. Don’t want Colton dropping his pants again. And dude, for real, that’s not how you get chicks. That’s how you get a shiny new seat in prison next to a dude who looks like a lady but has the wrong parts—feel me?” Max walked off toward the front of the house where the cars were parked.

“I, uh—” Words died on my lips as Jenna sauntered toward us. Yes, she sauntered. I swear her hips were moving so far outside her body I wanted to scream.

“Colton!” She smiled brightly. I prayed her teeth would fall out within the next few hours. “I checked all the bedrooms and even found—uh-oh.”

“What?” Colton asked. “What did you find?”

“Look.” She pointed above us; I quickly turned around to find Jason at the bottom of one of the oak trees and Reid shimmying across one of the branches.

“I believe I can fly!” he sang. “I believe I can—shit!” He slipped off one of the branches and nearly fell to his death.

“Reid! Get down here!”

“I think about it every night and day!” He continued singing and then got choked up. “Spread my wings and fly away.”

“Guys!” Max ran up to us, all out of breath. “We may have a problem, I checked the cars and then went inside to double-check bedrooms and Reid’s room had an empty bottle of—oh, shit.”

“Hey, Max!” Reid waved. “Look! I’m a bird!”

“I was thinking more . . . plane.” I shrugged.

“No.” Colton nodded and then gave a solitary clap. “That, my friends, is Superman.”

“Reid! How many happy pills did you take?” Max shouted.

Reid held up three fingers and almost slid off the branch.

“Great. There went that plan!” Max stomped over to the tree. “Reid, shimmy your ass down here before I get a shotgun and shoot you out of the leaves.”

“But I want to fly down.”

“Then imagine you’re flying and drop.”

“Dude!” Jason smacked Max. “That’s like ten feet.”

“Then let’s hope he doesn’t break his drugged ass, besides, he’s high as a kite, he won’t feel a damn thing.”

Reid nodded and then slowly, actually quite gracefully, fell from the tree, landed on his feet, somersaulted, and jumped back to his feet, lifting his hands in victory above his head.

“Nine,” I said.

“Ten.” Colton held up his hands. “Perfect ten.”

“Eh, he struggled on sticking the landing. I’m going to say seven.” Jenna tilted her head to the side. “But he gets an extra point for flair.”

Jason groaned and started hitting the tree with his hand. “We have pictures in less than two hours!”

“Found her!” Mom shouted from the house. “She was in the attic!”

“The attic?” My eyes met Colton’s. Our attic? Our special place.

“No worries!” Mom waved. “She’s getting ready in one of the bathrooms. Pictures in ninety minutes, guys!”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

COLTON

“Are you drunk?” I watched as Jason swayed on his feet, then gripped my shoulder with his hand.

“No.” He blinked his good eye. “Just having trouble focusing on walking in a straight line due to my inability to perceive depth.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“And if you must know I’m slightly”—he held up two fingers as a form of measurement—“in-intoxicated.” He let out a burp and winced. “How does it hurt my face to burp? I swear. I blame Milo.”

I shrugged. “It’s just easier that way.”

“Are you still going to do the thing?”

“What thing?” I lied.

“The whole I-love-you thing where you rip off your shirt and show her how much you love Star Wars and that you’re willing to make a fool of yourself?”

“Nah.” I narrowed my eyes. “Change of plans.”

“Max said—”

“Screw Max!” I growled.

“Chill.” Jason held up his hands. “They’re not really together.”

“No.” I clenched my fists. “And I know he’s only trying to help now, but he’s kissed her way too many times for me to actually want to pull him in for a hug rather than a swift kick to the balls.”

“Everyone ready!” The photographer walked out onto the lawn and looked around. “Where’s the wedding party?”

Jason and I raised our hands.

Pathetic.

“Oh, er, I’m sorry, I was under the impression . . . Of course, um, never mind. Why don’t we just get a few shots of you two first, hmm?”

“Let’s get this over with,” Jason growled.

“You could at least be a little excited.” I rolled my eyes. “For me, Jason, do it for me.”

“You’re right, man.” Jason hung his head. “Forgive me?”

“Course.” I pulled him in for a tight hug.

“Keep it there!” the photographer shouted. “The light’s perfect, just keep it there.”

“Uh . . .” My arms were wrapped around Jason, his head was resting on my shoulder. Awkward didn’t even begin to describe the moment.