Situationship [Complete]

9 | Warm Body

I feel . . . good?

My muscles feel less tense, I catch myself smiling sometimes. The myriad of items on my to-do list feels less arduous when half of my days end with an orgasm or two.

It's almost 11 at night with a few hours of work left to do, but I don't feel as tired as I usually would. Energy aside, the time flies by when you get to go through the torture of law school with your best friend.

Under the old, pointed arches of the law library's ceiling, occasional laughter echoes through the designated no talking area. Ryan and I have one of the study tables to ourselves next to other tired students pouring over case studies, all of us preparing for our mock trial.

We're not worried. It's straightforward and we're great at filling in the gaps in each other's knowledge, no matter how large or small they may be. It's one of the joys of being friends for over a decade.

"I cannot believe I'm getting married in a couple of months," Ryan breaks the silence. His bright smile makes it hard to tell how long he has been thinking about it. He's a lovesick little douche.

"I can," I grumble.

"Oh, right. This is crunch time for you, huh?"

Somehow, I got wrangled in his wedding planning. He hasn't said it, but out of everyone in our group, he knew I would be the only one detail-oriented and trustworthy enough not to ruin his big day. With Mary's only sibling being a brother, they went with the modern arrangement of a Man of Honor and Best Ma'am. As demanding as it has been, I can acknowledge that it's an honor or whatever.

"As if planning two parties isn't hard enough, wrangling the guys is a nightmare. I've reminded Ritchie six times that he needs to get his measurements," I complain.

Ryan laughs at my misfortune, his blue eyes squinting. "I'm sorry, but I hope you know I appreciate it. You're the best Best Ma'am ever."

"You're lucky to have me."

He laughs again. "I am." He fiddles with the pen he holds between his fingers. His nervous tic. "I don't know how you manage to do it all."

"It wasn't that bad. There are websites with super helpful checklists and Mary's brother is basically—"

"No," he stops me. "I mean everything. All the time. Only you can balance school, a job, wedding planning, and us five jackasses. You're a freak of nature and I mean that in the best way possible."

I give him a weak smile. People say that to me so often. I'm anal-retentive, yes, obsessed with detail and control, but it isn't easy for me. I feel like I'm always five minutes away from a breakdown, not that anyone notices. Or cares.

"Well, thanks, but in all honesty, if you were marrying anyone but her, I would have told you to go fuck yourself."

"Really?"