When We're Thirty by Casey Dembowski (beautiful books to read .TXT) 📕

at Dave. He was the last person she wanted to see right now. She’d spent the last few weeks trying to get him to hand over coverage of the Wilderness Weekend concert, but he hadn’t budged. There wasn’t even a Leonard Nulty interview accompanying the piece. It was concert coverage only. Anyone else would’ve handed the show to Hannah by now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “What’s up?”

He held up a pair of tickets. “I have a peace offering of sorts.”

Hannah reached for the tickets. Wilderness Weekend. No way.

“I’m not giving up coverage, but my sister-in-law, or soon-to-be, anyway, won these from a radio show,” he said. “She didn’t know I was covering the show, and she was so excited to give them to me that I couldn’t tell her that I was already going. I’ve heard you cursing at StubHub for the last week about ticket prices, so I thought—”

“Seriously?” If it hadn’t been Dave, she might have hugged him. As it was, she just turned her brightest smile on him.

“I mean, you owe me one, but yeah, they’re yours if you want them.”

She’d owe Dave seven if it meant these tickets were hers for free. “Yes, please.

Thank you!”

The moment Dave was gone, she picked up her phone. Will answered on the third ring. “I’m about to go into a meeting.”

“You didn’t get Wilderness tickets yet, did you?”

“No,” he said, sounding deflated. “I can’t find a pair within the negligible budget you set.”

“Well, I got us tickets!”

Will laughed. “Of course you did. Listen, I have to go, but explain over dinner?”

“Sure, I’ll pick up Thai on my way home from PT.”

She tucked the tickets into her wallet. These were going right in the My plans are better than yours clip she’d made sure found its way onto Will’s refrigerator when she moved in. Slipping on her coat, Hannah typed out a quick email to Riley requesting concert night off. It was a month away, but Hannah wasn’t taking any chances.

STRETCH FOR THREE. Hold for three. Extend. Retract. Hannah had forgotten how tedious physical therapy could be. The itch to run returned with each session the further her knee got to full extension. But Madison had been very clear. No running—not yet. Hannah heeded this advice only because whatever Madison’s plan was, it was working. Her knee felt better than it had in years.

“I brought you something,” Hannah said, leaning back on her hands.

The studio was empty. The last client had checked out twenty minutes ago, and technically, it was after closing. But this was their time slot. Madison liked the privacy. She was more herself. The few times another therapist had scheduled a late client, Madison had been stiff and formal. This version of her—sprawled out on a mat, legs propped up on a foam roller, an incredibly tight TheraBand stretched between her hands—made the aches and pains bearable.

“Oh?” Madison rubbed her hands together. “I like presents.”

“I know.” Hannah handed over a pink cardboard box. The tiniest bit of frosting stuck to the clear plastic, but it had otherwise survived the walk.

Madison’s eyes lit up at the cupcake. “You do realize I have to fit into a wedding dress in, like, five months.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know the exact number of days.”

Madison swallowed a giant bite of cupcake. “Fine. I have to fit into a corseted wedding dress in one hundred and thirty-three days. This is not going to help.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “It’s one cupcake. We can go for a run, and it will be like you never ate it.”

Madison shook her head. “Not until after your appointment. Which is when?”

“On January 17.” Hannah could hardly believe it. It had been so much of the reason she’d even considered marrying Will, and soon, she was finally getting to see an orthopedist. And not any orthopedist but one of the city’s best. Even as a resident, Daniel’s name went a long way.

“Then on January 18, if you don’t need surgery, we will try a run.”

“No way!”

Madison grinned. “Yes way!”

“I’m bringing you cupcakes more often.”

“Please don’t,” she said, stuffing the last bite of the cupcake into her mouth. “Actually, I kind of have something for you too. A proposal of sorts.” When Hannah didn’t say anything, she continued. “Jon and I were talking, and well, we’d love for you to be a bridesmaid in the wedding.”

Whatever she’d expected, it hadn’t been that. True, she was Will’s wife, and she and Madison had quickly become friends, but Jon and Madison barely knew her. Not that it wasn’t nice to be asked. They must have accepted her as part of the family. If they didn’t, why risk having some random chick in all of their wedding pictures?

“But won’t that throw everything off?” Not to mention the short timeline—Madison had said the bridesmaid dresses were custom ordered.

Madison shook her head. “Not really. Jon has been itching to add another groomsman, but I only have so many friends.”

“You have more friends than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Not ones I would want in my wedding pictures for eternity.” She rolled her eyes. “But we’re going to be sisters, and I don’t want you not to be in the pictures for eternity.”

That was sweet and a bit comforting. Apparently, the act, which was no longer an act, was working. People believed in Will and Hannah. But still, the logistics of it worried her.

“Stop overthinking it,” Madison said, hitting Hannah’s foot lightly with her own. “I can already see your head spinning through all the to-dos to add two members to the wedding party this late in the planning. But Hannah, the rules don’t apply to us. They’ll make the dress. They will find the tie. They will accommodate us. We’re Thornes—or soon to be.”

Right. Thornes. For the foreseeable future, Hannah was going to be a bona fide Thorne.

“If you don’t feel comfortable being in the wedding, that’s totally cool too,” Madison said, examining her fingernails.

Hannah shook her head. “I’d love to. Let me check