The wedding's in nineteen days. Your best friend just walked in. It absolutely was what it looked like.
He picked her at the party in front of everyone. He's texting you from the bathroom of her apartment right now.
You broke up eight months ago. He's coming to Thanksgiving. As your little sister's plus-one.
You broke up. You still own a cocktail bar together. Neither of you can afford to buy the other out, and neither of you can keep your hands off the other after close.
