Finally, that gets a half smile.
“Sure,” he says. “I’ll be right there.”
* * *
The ceremony is perfect.For all that both Elliott and Connor have huge wedding parties, the ceremony itself is borderline casual, performed by a woman with short gray hair and a full-sleeve tattoo. Ariel and Sadie are excellent flower girls, none of the groomsmen trip over anything, and both grooms are so busy grinning at each other that they keep missing their cues.
Everyone cries. In the audience, I can see Andi handing James a tissue while Hannah sniffles behind me.
Afterward we get plied with champagne while we take even more pictures, but it’s stopped being awkward. Andi and James are in some of them, Elliott and Connor are over the moon, and Connor’s huge Irish-Catholic family’s chaos makes our chaos look positively calm by comparison. Elliott even insists on a “just brothers” picture of him, me, and Reid, and I might cry again.
* * *
Later,after dinner, I’m drinking a beer and watching people dance when Elliott comes over and throws an arm around me.
“Hey,” he says, listing into me a little. “Thanks for coming. Like, seriously. I’m really glad you were here. I know you hate—” he gestures around, as if indicatingpeople.
I throw an arm around him in the hopes it’ll keep him upright.
“I’m glad you invited me,” I say.
“Ofcourse,” he says. “I wasn’t gonna get married without you.”
“Good,” I say. “I’d hate to miss this.”
We both go quiet for a moment, but we don’t have to say anything to know what we’re both thinking.
“And Reid,” he says. “I’m glad he made it.”
“Being asked to be a groomsman made his month, by the way,” I tell Elliott. “Not that he’d ever admit it, but.”
“Good,” Elliott says, watching Reid across the huge room, talking to someone with lavender hair. “How many drinks has he had?”
“I’m not his chaperone.”
Elliott takes a long sip of his own drink.
“Mhm,” he says.
“Two, I think. We had a discussion earlier about pacing.”
“Probably a good idea.”
“I thought so.”
“Oh. Incoming,” Elliott says, moments before Andi’s on my other side, hooking her arm through mine.
“Come dance,” she says, flushed and grinning.
“I’m talking to the groom,” I protest. It’s pretty half-hearted.
“Don’t decline on my account,” Elliott says.
“Gideon,” Andi says, my hand firmly in both of hers. “We both know I’m going to win, so could you please finish your drink and we can skip to the part where you give in and come dance with me instead of pretending you’re not going to?”
On my other side, Elliott starts laughing. I sigh.
“She hasalwayshad your number,” he says.
