An uncharacteristic hint of nerves coasted through Alex’s eyes before it vanished beneath cool green ice.
“When she says yes, I’ll need a best man.” He rubbed his thumb over his glass, his tense shoulders at odds with his casual tone. “Since you’re my best friend, and one of the few people I can stand to be around for more than five minutes at a time, consider this my official ask to you.”
Ah, fuck. Emotion rushed back into my chest and swelled until it formed a lump in my throat.
Before our falling out, Alex had been there for every game, every crisis, and every emergency I had. He was the only person outside my family I trusted, and I was the only one he uttered more than a dozen words to at a time.
We’d been best friends, but he’d never called me that, at least not in my presence. Today was the first time.
“That depends.” My voice came out scratchy before I cleared my throat. That fucker would not make me cry. Not today, Satan. “One, do I have full authority to plan your bachelor party in any way I see fit? Two, do I get box seats for life to any sports game I want? Three, can I take your Aston for a spin?”
Alex released a sigh so weary I half expected him to collapse beneath its weight. “Within reason, yes, and no.”
One and a half out of three. Not bad. I hadn’t expected him to say yes to the Aston thing anyway. He never let anyone drive his precious car.
“I’ll take it.” I raised my glass. “You’ve got yourself a best man.”
“I’m thrilled.”
“I can’t wait until our Vegas blowout,” I said, ignoring his dry response. “Actually, shit, let’s level up. You’re a billionaire with a b, as you always remind me. Let’s go to Macau. No, Monaco. No, Ibi—”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself. I haven’t proposed yet.”
“But you will, and it’s best to be prepared.” My grin faded at the sight of Alex’s tight jaw. “She’ll say yes,” I repeated in a softer voice. “Don’t worry.”
Another hint of nerves flickered in his eyes. “I don’t worry.” He rubbed his thumb over his whiskey tumbler again until some of the tension drained from his shoulders. “But no Ibiza. I can’t stand island parties.”
“Deal.” Monaco sounded more fun, anyway. “Here’s to an epic proposal and even more epic bachelor weekend.”
I lifted my glass again. Alex clinked his against mine, and I waited until we’d both drained our drinks before I added, “I’d be your best man even without the box seats, you know.”
The ice in his eyes cracked, revealing a sliver of softness. “I know.”
A poignant beat passed before we coughed at the same time and let out awkward laughs. Alex might petrify into stone if we dwelled too much on the sentimentality of the moment, and I didn’t want my sister to marry a literal statue.
“Now that that’s out of the way…” I threw an arm around his shoulders and steered him toward the couch. “Let’s talk about how we’ll make this a stag party you’ll never forget. I’m thinking tigers, tattoos…”
“No.”
I brushed off the buzzkill. “Actually, how do you feel about cage diving with sharks? We can fly to South Africa for the weekend…”
Alex rubbed an exasperated hand over his face while I rambled off ideas and tried to hold back a grin.
Me annoying the shit out of him while he feigned irritation?
It was like old times, only better, because this time, there were no lies or secrets between us.
Every great friendship had chapters.
This was the start of our new one.