Page 3 of Wedlocked

Rush: Did you have to increase the font size?

Win: Eyesight starts to decline after 40.

Coach: Whoever told you boys to be yourselves gave you terrible advice.

Ryan: See you at Shirley’s!

2

Kruger

“Bro,if our latest text thread was a YouTube video, I’d hit dislike and close out of it before the ad could even finish,” I grumped, reversing out of the parking spot a little too aggressively, then jamming my foot on the brake to shift into drive.

P curled his hand around the door handle and said nothing, but I felt his side-eye.

“I get everyone is on edge with finals and swim season.” I went on, steering out of the Elite parking lot. “But if I hear ‘she’s not your wife’ one more time, I’ll make it so everyone ends up with an irrational fear of eggs.”

Prism made a sound. “How are you going to do that?”

“You don’t want to know,” I told him ominously.

He remained quiet, and I heaved a sigh. “Present company excluded. You know that, right? You’re my ride-or-die.”

“The way you’re driving right now, I think I’m closer to die.”

I got the hint and let off the gas a little. “Sorry, bro. I’m a little on edge.”

“A little?” He scoffed. “You were driving on two wheels back there.”

“Dating Arsen has turned you into a drama queen.”

Prism turned a little in the passenger seat, angling so he faced me and the strap on the belt across his chest pulled snug. His dark eyes assessed in a way I was used to but others would probably find unsettling. Others would be pansies. However, there was nothing quite like the stare of someone quiet. The way they watched, weighed, and measured as if they saw so much more than everyone else. Sometimes I felt a little see-through. It was an ounce unsettling. Well, it would be if the person doing the measuring wasn’t your best friend. But Prism was my brother from another mother and I didn’t have any secrets from him, so whatever he was finding wasn’t anything I wouldn’t readily tell him.

“Do I need to evoke bro code, or are you going to tell me?”

I snorted. Bro code. I was the one who came up with that because he was much harder to read than me. Because for a long time, it was the only way to really get the truth out of him when it came to his mental state. Interesting, though, he thought he needed to pull it out in order to get me to talk today.

I glanced at him before looking back at the road. “Was I really on two wheels back there?”

Maybe whatever he saw in his appraisal of me was more than even I could admit to myself.

He glowered. “Ben.”

“Oooh, my first name,” I sang.

“I’m calling it. Bro code.” He decided. “Spill.”

My hands flexed around the wheel of my Audi, and an uncomfortable pit settled in my gut. “I spent far too long in the friend zone with my final girl to ever go back.”

A little ripple of surprise came from the passenger side. “Jess didn’t actually bro-zone you.”

A sour flavor coated my tongue. “No? What would you call it?”

“A joke?” He tried.

I shook my head. “I’ll give you a pass this time because, well, you’re gay and don’t have to deal with women.”

“But Arsen?—”