It’s still so thrilling and strange—these quick, offhand kisses in front of grandparents and caterers and Dylan’s hot uncle Julian. I’ve been out for so long, I don’t even think about how much I hold back in some spaces. But the truth is, fifteen-year-old me barely dared to dream about kissing a boyfriend in public. I’m pretty sure thirteen-year-old me thought two guys kissing at a wedding was a thing that only happened in strangers’ photos.
Ben takes both my hands, threading our fingers together. “So. Like. How good was the best man?”
“The best. Best best man. Couldn’t take my eyes off him. Was there even a groom?”
“Wouldn’t know,” Ben says. “I was too busy checking out some guy wearing a hot dog tie.”
I smile up at him. “Special occasion, right?”
I swear, my molecules rearrange when he’s near me. The air between us feels so thick, I could poke a hole straight through it. He leans in to kiss me again—I don’t even know how I’m still standing upright.
“Ow ow owwwwwwww!” Dylan howls into megaphone hands.
Ben and I break apart, flustered and smiling.
“Now, I don’t want to interrupt—”
“Dylan!” I catch him in a full-on bear hug. “Mazel tov! How do you feel?”
“I feel like taking some naughty pics, is how I feel,” Dylan says.
Ben mouths the word “wow.” “That sounds like more of an after-wedding activity.”
“Au contraire, my Best Ben. You’re indispensable,” he says, adjusting Ben’s tie and giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. “Photographer’s orders. And,” he adds, waggling his eyebrows at me, “boyfriends definitely allowed.”
Boyfriend—my stomach does cartwheels when he says it. That’s how Dylan introduced me to his parents this morning, too. Ben’s boyfriend. I’m trying so hard to keep my cool about it, since Ben and I haven’t technically discussed it yet. But I can’t help but notice that Ben didn’t object either time.
He takes my hand. “Come with me?”
Like it’s even a question. We trail behind Dylan, past three floral-decked tables and a makeshift dance floor strung with twinkle lights. There’s a tree-lined alcove at the edge of the O’Malley property, where a woman in all black is snapping pictures of Samantha with various combinations of relatives. When she sees us, her practiced photo smile breaks into a full-beaming grin.
Samantha as a bride is still the weirdest concept, but there’s no denying she wears it well. She’s so beautiful, even I’m a little bit spellbound. Her dress looks like something straight out of a Jane Austen adaptation—high-waisted and flowy, with ivory lace and cap sleeves. Maternity chic, she’d called it this morning, tugging the fabric tight around her belly to show us just how fucking oblivious we’ve been for weeks.
The photographer pulls Dylan into the tableau, in between Samantha and her grandma. I lean in closer to Ben to watch her bustle around, snapping a million pictures from every angle, periodically pausing to add or remove another O’Malley relative.
“I keep thinking about how these are Dylan’s wedding pictures,” Ben says, smiling faintly. “Like, we’re witnessing the creation of an image that’s going to be passed along to their grandchildren.”
I watch Dylan stretch his arms up languidly—and then stop short to sniff his armpit.
“For the grandchildren,” I say.
Ben kisses my cheek before squeezing in next to Dylan for the wedding party photos—followed by a full best-friends photo session at the groom’s request.
Samantha cuts across the grass, straight to me, arms outstretched for a hug. “Arthur! I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you so much. Just. For everything.”
“Are you kidding? Thank you for inviting me. This wedding. And you!” I press both hands to my heart. “You’ve ruined me for all other brides.”
“Sucks. Guess you shouldn’t marry one.”
I laugh. “I guess not.”
“I’m so happy for you guys.” She glances down at Ben and Dylan, who are currently reenacting a Twilight pose on the grass. “I’ve never seen Ben glow like that.”
My heart does this quick, tiny flip. “Really?”
“Arthur, he’s head over heels. You see it, right?”
“Hey, current wife,” Dylan calls out, hoisting himself back up to standing. “Come back here.”