“Yeah,” I croaked. “Just . . .” I lifted my phone into the air. “Work.”

“Hmm.” Colt eyed me over his beer. “Unless someone’s actually bombed the town or a Mafia hit man is hiding out in the bushes, work wouldn’t be texting you on vacation.” He swiped my phone from the table before I could grab it, then paled and slid it right back to me.

“And by she . . .” Colt nodded slowly. “I’m guessing—”

“We should be celebrating a wedding and not talking about the chick who broke my heart, then freaking left with our best friend.”

“Still can’t say his name.”

“Doesn’t deserve to be said,” I snapped.

“Easy.” Colt held up his hands in surrender. “So what are you going to do?”

Max and Becca made their way to our table, and they both looked so damn happy I wanted to puke. I used to be that happy. Once upon a time, before the love of my life basically ran over my heart with her Honda Civic.

“Nothing.” I shrugged. “It’s America, she can live wherever the hell she wants.”

“But the rest of the text said . . .”

“I know what it said!” I yelled. I rarely yelled.

Colt stood and walked off.

I didn’t mean to snap at him. I just didn’t want to acknowledge the texts or anything else about my past life.

And I really, really didn’t want to know that she’d had a kid.

And that he looked exactly like her.

Or that she was asking about me.

“Everything cool?” Reid slid in a seat next to me. “Colt seems pissed.”

“He’s not having sex.” I nodded. “Max is exhausting all his groomsmen.”

“I hate Max,” Reid said in a bored tone, lifting his beer bottle in the air in a fake salute to his brother. “But I do love free trips to Bora Bora.”

Jordan ran toward us, her feet kicking up sand as she launched herself into Reid’s lap and whispered something in his ear. His laughter grated my nerves. I was officially surrounded by wedding cakes and engagement rings.

At least Jordan and Reid had been slightly normal—they’d moved in together shortly after the whole Phantom episode and had been inseparable ever since. Her four-carat engagement ring caught the sun just right, nearly blinding both my eyes. I pulled down my sunglasses and crossed my arms. Reid’s movie, with her help, was a blockbuster hit and they still did a weekly YouTube relationship talk that had over ten million followers and growing.

Max had made several appearances as a guest.

As had Hades.

I’d never been invited—then again, what would I have to offer?

A black eye? Because as of right now that was my MO . . . the accident-prone family member who almost married a girl because she tricked him into thinking she was pregnant.

I’d dodged the bullet.

But now I was alone.

My mind went back to the text message. I tried not to think about it. Instead, I focused on the conversation between Reid and Jordan about their next YouTube webisode.

The group laughed about something—I’d tuned them out again.

I tried to join in the laughter around the table as everyone sat down and continued drinking.

But all I could think about.

Was the girl with curly red hair.

And the annoying pang in my chest that went along with it.