“Can’t a guy appreciate romance? Will there be tissues at the wedding because I’m a crier. I’m not against using cloth napkins.” He pauses. “That’s if I’m invited.” His eyes ping between us. “I’m invited, right?” “No,” Ryke deadpans at the same time that I say, “Yes.” Sully points at his friend. “Traitor.” “Loser.” Sully gapes. “Toad-face.” “Ginger root.”
