After five minutes of customary cuddling, Kate lifts her head from the pillow of my chest and orders, “You have to get the hell out of here.”

My brow furrows. “Kicking me out already? I feel so used.”

She laughs.

I say, “I see how it is. You only want me for my body.”

Mimicking my earlier tone, Kate replies, “Well…yeah. Although your mind can be mildly entertaining.”

I smack her ass with an open palm.

Slap

She squeaks and jumps out of bed, out of my reach.

“Get dressed.” My clothes are thrown at my head as Kate slips into her robe and tip-toes out the door to check if the coast is clear.

I’m dressed by the time she comes back in.

She holds out her hand. “Come on, Dee’s in her room. You’re good to go.”

I pull on her hand until she crashes against me. “I don’t wanna go. I want to defile the prestigious Plaza Hotel by having you ride me like a slutty mermaid in the bathtub.”

Kate shakes her head. “Not today. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

I sigh. “Fine.” I brush my lips against hers quickly. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”

Kate pinches me, because she knows I’m being sarcastic. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

“There’s going to be a lot of people downstairs. How am I going to find you?”

She smiles. “You won’t be able to miss me. I’ll be the one walking down the aisle to you. Wearing…silver.”

Chapter 2

MARRIAGE.

The final frontier.

Steven went first. He was kind of our test subject. Like those monkeys that NASA sent off into space in the fifties, knowing they’d never make it back alive.

And now Matthew has followed in his footsteps.

What? You didn’t think I was getting married today, did you?

No frigging way. I’ve barely got the boyfriend thing down. I’m not ready to tackle the title of husband. Don’t want to bite off more than I can chew. Matthew, on the other hand, is just crazy enough to give it a try.

And the proposal—now, there’s a f**king story. Matthew had this whole romantic thing going. Rented out an entire restaurant for just him and Delores. He even had a string quartet playing music in the background. But when the big moment came? He was so nervous, he hyperventilated.

And then he passed the f**k out.

Nailing his head on the table on the way down.

Delores freaked—Kate said she was never good with blood. She called 911. And even though he swore up and down that he was fine, she made him go to the hospital in the ambulance.

That’s when things got interesting.

Because hospitals have certain protocols they have to follow. One of them involves hospital gowns. So when they wheeled Matthew in, a bloody bandage on his head, they started to cut his clothes off. Then they put all of his belonging in a big plastic bag—including the two hundred thousand dollar diamond ring he’d purchased for the occasion.

The idea of losing that ring cured Matthew of his cold feet real frigging quick. So he hops off the gurney, grabs the ring, runs out into the ER, and drops to his knees in front of Delores. And that’s how he popped the question.

In the middle of the god damn emergency room with his ass hanging out the back of a hospital gown as bare as the day he was born.

Naturally, Delores said yes. And two days later, the four of us jetted to Vegas for the Elvis Chapel Special.

Crazy? Sure. But it kind of fits, don’t you think?

Anyway, we come back to the city, where Matthew announces to his parents that he’s a married man. I’ve never seen Estelle Fisher so animated in my life. She started bawling her eyes out, sobbing about how she missed her only child’s wedding.

I felt bad, so I can only imagine how shitty Matthew felt. Making your mother cry? That guilt is like the sixth circle of hell.

Frank, being a man of few words, just looked at his son and said, “Fix this.”

But his eyes said so much more. They said, ‘You may be thirty years old, but I will still kick your ass up and down Park Avenue if you don’t make this right real motherfucking quick.’

And so here we are.

At Matthew and Delores’s grand New York City wedding reception, courtesy of Frank and Estelle. No expense was spared—very New York high society. It’s supposed to be elegant. Classy. And it is.

Except for Delores’s dress, of course. Have you ever seen Madonna’s Like a Virgin video?

Perfect—then you know just what Delores looks like.

Cocktail hour—hands down, it’s the best part of a wedding. Exceeded only by that garter thing. I’ve always been an excellent garter catcher, and there’s no better way to get to know a chick than sticking your hands up her dress as high as you can go.

But that was then. My now is much better.

Because I’ve got the hottest girl in the room sitting next to me—and I can stick my hands up her dress anytime I want.

Now that Kate is wearing her dress, I understand why she said garters wouldn’t work. It’s silver and short. I’m talking micro-mini. And strapless. Every time I look at her, I can’t help but think about how easy it will be to get it off. And her shoes? You remember my thing for shoes, right? They’re very high, very strappy, open toed and…

Amelia Warren, Delores’ mother, stands up from the table. She’s thin, with shoulder length, feathered 80’s style, strawberry blond hair. And like her daughter after her—she’s nuts. When I say nuts I mean that in the most literal way possible.