"Yeah, because she had to," Dean cuts in, rolling his eyes. "Wedding party stuff. She literally told Dixie she'd rather eat glass than—"
"Fold," Matt announces too loudly from where he's sitting next to Preston, tossing his cards down. It's his third one in a row, and Preston's pile of chips is growing suspiciously fast.
I catch my brother's eye. "Since when do you fold on a straight?"
"Bad hand," he mutters, but I know better. Matt used to clean out my entire friend group at poker night. That one time he hung out with us instead of studying for college exams, he walked away with three hundred bucks, and James's favorite Patriots hoodie.
"Sure," I drawl. "Nothing to do with sucking up to your father-in-law by letting him win?"
Matt kicks me under the table, but Jefferson's already talking over us.
"Virginia's just playing hard to get." He downs his whiskey. "Give it time. She always comes back."
"Dude," Dean says, "she pushed you into a fountain this morning."
"That was a misunderstanding!"
Preston blinks, reaching for his Rolex. "Good lord, is that really the time? I hadn't realized we'd been out here so long. I should head in. We all have a big day tomorrow with the rehearsal dinner."
"Indeed," Jefferson agrees smoothly.
Preston stands. "Perhaps you gentlemen should consider wrapping up soon as well."
The moment his footsteps fade, Jefferson's polite smile morphs into something wicked. "Actually," he says, standing up and dropping the cards on the table, "I've got a better idea for tonight."
"Yeah?" Carter perks up.
"Who wants to crash a bachelorette party?"
Matt looks torn between his Preston-approved persona and the guy I actually grew up with. "If Magnolia finds out . . ." He glances at the house.
"Already in bed," Carter points out. "If Preston's turning in, you know she is too. Come on, Matthew. Give the country club act a rest."
"Think about it," Jefferson pushes, and I hate how he can read a room. "The girls are doing some lame spa night or whatever. We show up, add some excitement . . ." He flexes, and I fight the urge to remind him that the gym membership clearly isn't paying off. "Make it a night they'll remember."
Dean perks up. "Like Magic Mike?"
"Exactly! Come on, Matthew. One last wild night before you're officially off the market."
"Sarah would kill me . . ." But I can see the gleam in his eyes—that dangerous itch that showed up right before he helped me steal the rival school's mascot senior year.
"Sarah wouldlove it," Carter argues. "Besides, aren't you curious what they're up to? Virginia mentioned somethingabout a stripper—"
"Awhat?" Jefferson's head snaps up.
"I'm in," Matt decides, already pulling off his jacket. "Come on, little brother. For old time’s sake?"
I stay in my chair, watching these idiots in their thirties act like they're auditioning for Thunder From Down Under. "Hard pass."
"What's wrong, Miller? Worried about getting caught staring at Ivy too long?" Jefferson's smirk turns sharp. "Been doing a lot of that lately."
"Almost as much as you've been stalking Virginia," I shoot back.
"At least I had her." Jefferson's voice drops low and mean. "You? You're just the guy who delivers pizza and pines from a distance. Standing in the shadows, hoping for scraps."
My chair scrapes back before I realize I'm moving, and Matt's hand lands on my shoulder—not stopping me, but pausing.
"Boys, boys. Why fight when we could crash this party properly? One night. Pure mayhem." He spreads his arms wide. "We show up looking like gods, and remind these girls why they can't resist a surprise."
