Chapter 3

" S o theoretically, on a scale of one to ten, how weird would it be if I hooked up with your stepson?"

Maggie paused, her coffee an inch from her lips. She took a deep breath and put the cup down. "First, please don't call him my stepson."

"But technically?—"

"Zip it," Maggie interrupted, pinching her brow. "Second, because I know you, did you hook up with him?"

Jazz squinted, trying to read Maggie's tone. They'd been best friends since middle school, and, even though Maggie was happily married, Cal would never know her as well as Jazz did—something she'd made clear to him a couple of weeks before their wedding, while crying and drunkenly telling Cal, her fifty-seven-year-old millionaire boss, that she knew people if he ever hurt Maggie. She didn't know people. But Cal had patted her on the head, offered her a cup of coffee, then waited until she was sober to reassure her he knew she would always be Maggie's person and promise that he'd never hurt her. At that point, Jazz had zero recollection of her drunken conversation, and no doubts that Cal would never hurt Maggie. He was a great guy, and exactly what her best friend deserved.

"Jazz. Did you sleep with Liam?"

Right. They were talking. "Um, possibly?"

Maggie groaned. "Ugh. When did you even… Oh my God, Jazz, did you seriously have sex with Cal's kid at our wedding?"

Jazz screwed up her face. "Don't call him Cal's kid. That makes him sound like a child."

"He is Cal's child."

"Need I remind you that you once agreed to go on a date with him," Jazz pointed out. " After you were sleeping with his dad."

Maggie glared at her. Her almost-date with Liam, when Cal had been trying to push her away because he thought she deserved better, was something Maggie liked to forget.

"I didn't go on that date, so it doesn't count." Maggie shook her head, pushing her dark hair back. "Okay. You had sex with Liam."

"We were drunk, if it helps," Jazz offered.

"It doesn't. Why didn't you tell me? That was months ago."

"I was worried you'd be mad," Jazz said. It wasn't a complete lie, at least. "And I was right, clearly."

"I'm not mad," Maggie said with a groan. "I just… Gross. Liam's like a brother to me. "

"That's weirder than me sleeping with him, for the record, considering you're married to his dad."

Maggie waved her away. "We've never claimed to be traditional. Why are you telling me now?"

"Liam asked me to. He felt weird about taking you up on your suggestion to ask me as a date to the wedding without you knowing everything."

Maggie grabbed her coffee cup again and took a long draw, mulling it over before speaking. "I don't really know what to do here. Am I supposed to ask you about it? I know we always talk about this kind of stuff, so I can pretend it's not weird if you want to talk about it."

Jazz shrugged. "There's not much to say. We were drunk. Neither of us remember much of it."

Maggie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Since when do you not remember a million details, even when you're drunk?"

Shit. Maggie had her there. Thanks to her inability to come, Jazz had gotten good at embellishing when talking about sex. "I mean…" she searched around, trying to find an excuse and coming up blank. Peach, Maggie and Cal's cat, jumped up on the table and nestled into her, and Jazz bought a little extra time kissing her face and sneezing when her orange and black fur tickled her nose.

"We were both wasted and tired after such a long day, but what I remember was good," she said, finally. Adding, "I was sore the next day, if that tells you anything," just as Cal walked into the kitchen. Let the ground swallow her the fuck up.

"Hi, love," Cal said, stooping to kiss Maggie. Jazz ignored the tightness in her chest the sight of her best friend and her husband. They looked at each other like nothing else in the world existed and she couldn't be happier for them. She couldn't explain the little twinges of anxiety seeing them together gave her, and she didn't need to explain them if she pretended they weren't there. When they broke apart, Cal plucked Peach from the table and kissed her nose. "Hey, Jazz."

"Hey." She exchanged an awkward look with Maggie as they both sat in silence.

"Don't stop on my account," Cal said, grabbing a cup from the cabinet. "I'm just getting coffee, then I'm heading upstairs to catch up on my YouTube."

Maggie's lip twitched, fighting a smile. Her TikTok had been a gateway to Cal, and he now not only scrolled the app mindlessly for hours, but watched YouTube religiously, sending any video he found mildly interesting to Maggie. She watched every single one. They were disgusting.

Cal turned around and frowned while he waited for his coffee. "Why are you being weird?"

"We're not being weird."

"You never stop talking because I'm here. What am I missing?"

"You don't want to know. Trust me," Maggie said, and Cal shrugged, but took her at face value.

"Cool, I'm going to head out so you can stop being weird." He lifted his cup in goodbye before leaving the room.

"Are you going to tell him?" Jazz asked Maggie when the coast was clear. She didn't know why, but the thought of Cal knowing was infinitely worse than Maggie. It was just sex—it wasn't a big deal. So why was she making it one?

"We generally don't go out of our way to talk about Liam's sex life," Maggie replied with a snort. "But if he asks… I mean, shit, you're my best friend and obviously I'm not going to tell him if you don't want me to, but he's my husband and?—"

"It's okay." Jazz cut her off before she could spiral. It was one of Maggie's greatest skills. "I'd never ask you to lie to him. But also, it was one time . That doesn't make it Liam's sex life. He's a single man in his thirties who looks like that. I bet I was barely a blip on his radar."

Maggie said nothing, narrowing her eyes as she sipped her coffee.

"What?"

"You're going to do it again, aren't you?" Maggie asked.

"Of course not. I'm not interested in him like that."

Would she like to do it again? Of course she would. She was only human, after all, and Liam had gotten her closer to finishing than anyone else had. But that didn't mean she was going to. Besides, there was nothing to imply that Liam was even interested in her. She was tagging along to the wedding to support him as a friend, that was all.

"Sure," Maggie replied sarcastically and, for a moment, Jazz hated how well Maggie knew her.

"It was one night. It's not going to happen again." There was more bite to Jazz's words than she intended, and Maggie held her hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay. It's not going to happen again. But you're going to the wedding with him, right?"

Jazz leaned back in her chair with a sigh, running her hands through her unruly hair. She knew she'd regret letting it air dry the night before, but she'd done it anyway. A trip to the salon would be essential before the wedding; she wasn't going to make Liam's ex jealous with three inches of root growth and uneven bangs that she'd cut herself, because she couldn't see anymore but didn't want to deal with a salon appointment.

"Yeah. As long as you're okay with it."

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it?"

"You know. Because of the last wedding." Jazz gestured unintelligibly, because that somehow felt better than repeating it.

"You're both adults and you can do what you want. Not that it matters, since you apparently aren't interested in him like that."

Jazz glared at her best friend. "I'm not."

"Good."

"Good." Jazz pushed back from the table, needing to move her body. She stopped by Maggie's fridge, running a finger over the God-awful pencil drawing of what she suspected was supposed to be Peach.

"Nadia's kids drew that for us," Maggie said, noticing her focus. "I forgot to mention, actually. We're going to brunch at that new Tiffany's themed place this weekend. Do you want to come?"

"With you and Nadia?"

Nadia was Maggie's realtor turned friend—a mom of twins, businesswoman, and all around badass. It wasn't that Nadia had done anything in particular to piss Jazz off, it was just her . She was charming, funny, drop dead gorgeous, always perfectly put together, and she had the kind of life you imagined the happy families in department store catalogs had. And Jazz hated her, no matter how much Maggie loved her.

"Cal and Nadia's partner are coming too, and?—"

"I'm not going to fifth wheel your double date," Jazz interrupted. She turned back to the fridge, so Maggie wouldn't see her rolling her eyes. "It's bad enough that I'm always bugging you and Cal. I don't need to do it to anyone else."

"What are you talking about? Since when do Cal and I not like having you around?"

"That's not what I… Never mind. I'm still not going to fifth wheel your double date."

Their empty cups clinked as Maggie gathered them up and rinsed them in the sink. She opened and closed her mouth twice, before finally saying, "It's not really a double date, it's just brunch."

"I'll pass," Jazz said, schooling her face and tone into something that sounded semi-neutral. Maggie could hang out with people without her. Maybe it had been just the two of them for a long time, but it wasn't anymore. Maggie was married now. She had new friends. Friends who were also married, and had babies, and businesses, and didn't forget to pay their electric bill every other month, even though they had a reminder on their phone.

And Jazz was happy for her. Even if she didn't want any of those things yet, there was nothing wrong with Maggie having them. She and Maggie had always moved at different paces, and she had plenty of time to catch up.

"Is everything okay?" Maggie asked gently.

Jazz turned to her, pasting a smile on her face. "Of course it is. But I could use your help to pick out a dress for the wedding, if you have time."

The concern didn't entirely leave Maggie's eyes, but she took the subject change and ran with it anyway. "I always have time for you, you know that. And I need a dress for one of Cal's old colleague's retirement parties too, so that's perfect."

"Great!" Jazz replied, sounding cheerier than she felt. "Let's order lunch and do some damage to our credit cards."