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Why is he so desperate to get rid of his two hundred grand?

I can take a guess.

If I get married tonight, his name won’t be in the headlines tomorrow morning.

Mine will be.

It’ll clean up his most recent mess, and it’ll put me squarely in the news. Everyone will forget that he got into a very public fight after we lost that final game.

We all deal with our shit in different ways. I went the broody-drinker route until I met Ivy. West went the trash-talking fighter route.

“My sister just got married last month, and I couldn’t help but wonder when it’ll be my turn,” Ivy says, and she’s swaying a little on her feet. I loop my arm around her waist to hold her steady. “Everyone in my family has a significant other, but not me. So they think they can boss me around and treat me like a child. I’d love to get married before the rest of them. It would really fuck them up! Show them I’m a fucking adult!”

I chuckle. She really sounds like one when she’s cursing and swaying.

“Then do it,” West goads.

“I don’t have anyone to marry,” she counters.

I close my eyes as I wait for it.

“Well, I’m single. Cash here is single. Take your pick.”

She leans in toward West a little, and I hate how she’s leaning away from me to do it. “Did you just propose to me, West Sellers?” she slurs.

He shrugs. “I don’t have any plans tonight.”

“You can’t marry him,” I say, interrupting their conversation.

“Why not?” West asks, indignant.

I lean in toward her, my eyes hot on hers. “If you’re married to him, you can’t be with me.”

“Oh, you two. You’re making this hard. But I vote West marries Ashley, and I marry Cashley.” She giggles. Loudly. “I mean Cash.”

“Cashley,” West repeats, trying it on for size as he glances at me. “I like it. Might use it in games.”

I blow out a breath. “It sounds too much like what the media would call Cash and Ashley.” I spot Ashley as she walks toward us to join the conversation. “And that won’t work since you already decided you’re hooking up with Ashley.” I say it loud enough for her to overhear. Two can play his stupid little game.

Ashley’s jaw drops open and her eyes widen. It’s nearly comical, like she’s an illustrated caricature of herself for a moment. “We’re hooking up?”

West shoots me a look. “Yeah, baby,” he croons to her as he tosses an arm around her, clearly playing the part. “If you’re down for it. But first, Cash and Ivy are getting married, and they’re going to need a best man and a maid of honor.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but her features somehow become even more exaggerated. “They’re what?” she gasps.

“We’re not getting married,” I say. As much as I’d love to take two hundred grand from West, it’s not a good idea.

I can’t marry Ivy. I don’t even know her.

“We’re not?” Ivy asks. “Aw, you’re no fun.”

“I’ll show you just how fun I am,” I counter. I finish off the tequila in my glass.

She sets her hands on her hips. “Then marry me! Come on! It’ll be fun!”

I guess the remaining tequila that I just shot back is enough to silence that last voice of reason in my mind.

“Let’s get a car downtown to get these two hitched,” West says.