“Don’t be mean to my future children.”
“I’m just worried about your... pelvis.”
Poppy snickered under her breath at the look of alarm splashed across Lyric’s face.
“June still satisfies your requirement of getting married during the offseason. You’ll have plenty of time for a honeymoon before Curran has to be back at training camp at the end of July. June gives us more time to plan. Give you the wedding of your dreams.”
“You know.” Lyric drummed her fingers against her chin. “Cash has a game against the Raiders next week. We’ll be in Vegas. We could always take a little trip down the strip and find a twenty-four-hour chapel with an Elvis impersonator to officiate and—”
“Absolutely not,” Rosaline growled. “Don’t even joke, Lyric. You are not Kourtney fucking Kardashian. You’re not getting hitched in Vegas and definitely not by some two-bit Elvis impersonator.”
“But what if Vegas is mydream, Roz?” Lyric clasped her hands under her chin. “What if Cash and I want to get married at the Taco Bell Cantina? You get Taco Bell champagne flutes and a taco twelve pack and a Cinnabon Delights cakes. They even give the bride a sauce packet bouquet and—” Lyric’s composure cracked and she started laughing. “Oh my god, if you could see your faces right now.” She clutched her stomach and wiped her eyes. “I can’t even.”
“Thank god,” Rosaline muttered. “I was about thirty seconds away from a full-blown panic attack.”
“Anyway.” Lyric stretched across the counter to dump the batter bowl in the sink. “It’s not like there’s going to be much to plan. Cash and I want to keep it small. Just family and a few close friends. Donna, Grey, JJ,” Lyric rattled off, ticking off the namesof her manager, personal assistant, and producer on her fingers. “And on Cash’s side, he’ll want his parents there. Poppy, obviously. A few of his teammates, I’m guessing. DeAndre for sure and his wife, Cassidy...” She shrugged. “Like I said, small. We’ll probably just do it here in the backyard—”
“Assuming it won’t be pouring rain, considering you want to get married in Portland, Oregon, inMarch.”
Lyric rolled her eyes. “Isn’t rain on your wedding day considered good luck?”
“Alanis Morissette thinks it’s ironic,” Poppy joked.
Rosaline laughed under her breath.
“Well, whatever it is,” Lyric said, “it’s going to be perfect because when it’s all said and done, Cash and I will be married. If it rains, we’ll just move the ceremony inside. Easy peasy.” She rested her chin on her hand atop the counter. “I’m guessing you’ll be Cash’s best... woman? That’s a thing, right?”
Poppy frowned. Sure, it was a thing, but... “I think DeAndre will probably be his best man.”
Cash had been DeAndre’s best man at his wedding; it made total sense that Cash would ask him. Poppy wasn’t offended in the slightest.
“Oh.” Lyric frowned. “I guess. I just thought, with Rosaline being my maid of honor, it would be kind of nice if you were his... attendant or whatever you want to call it. You know, for the processional.”
Rosaline’s head whipped to the side and she stared at Lyric, wide-eyed. “Maid of honor? Me?”
“Duh.” Lyric laughed. “You say it like it’s even a question, Roz.”
“Clearly not, considering you never actually asked.”
“I didn’t think I needed to. You’re my best friend. Who the hell else would I ask?”
“Well.” Rosaline sniffed hard, her eyes gone misty. “I’m honored.”
“Ba dum tss,” Poppy joked and Rosaline’s lips twitched.
“Honoredbutit doesn’t change the fact that I think March is too soon,” Rosaline said.
Lyric slumped over the counter. “Says you, who asked Poppy to move in with you after... remind me, how long have you been dating?”
Rosaline pursed her lips. “We’re not talking about me and Poppy.”
“Maybe we should be.” Lyric gave Poppy a scrutinizing once-over. “So. What are your intentions with my best friend?”
“Oh my god.” Rosaline pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Stop.”
“It’s a perfectly valid question, Roz.”
“Ignore her,” Rosaline grumbled at Poppy, looking profoundly uncomfortable. “Lyric is being patently ridiculous. Par for the course with her, truly.”
