“Right. Stretch. I forgot about you.” The dig is clear, but Terence seems the most fixated on the flash of gold on Rhys’s finger. His eyes move down to my left hand, which boasts a matching ring. He scoffs. “Really? I thought you’d remember losing to my team all the time.” Rhys laughs. It comes out deep and makes his broad shoulders shake. “Oh, nah. Hard to think much about bowling when we’ve been busy celebrating the wedding. Ya know?”
