We make one more stop about fifteen minutes from the cottage, partly because Sunny needs to pee again and also because we need groceries. With four hockey boys and a pregnant woman, there are a lot of food bases to cover in order to get through the weekend. Alex has already ordered a bunch of stuff that’s scheduled to arrive tomorrow, but we still have dinner tonight, snacks, and possibly breakfast. Plus booze. The town we stop in is quaint, with cute little shops and a grocery store that caters to the rich people with cottages on Lake Geneva. The cottage is actually in Wisconsin, not Chicago, but it’s just outside, so I call it the Chicago cottage to differentiate between this one and the one where Randy and I first met.

We pile out of the truck. Sunny stretches and groans, maybe because she gets stiff when she sits for too long. There’s also a burger joint across the street. Sunny inhales deeply, and the groan becomes a sigh. Huh. Normally she’d be at least mildly grossed out. But now that I think about it, lately she’s been suggesting stops at fast food places when we’re out. Maybe it’s so her vegan self can huff burgers without feeling guilty.

The boys get out of the SUV, and Darren finds the closest garbage can, tossing a few things into it. One of them looks very much like an empty bag of Doritos.

Charlene rushes over and looks in. “You didn’t!”

A smile spreads across Darren’s face. “I did.” He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. Charlene shrieks and tries to wrestle her way out of his grip, but Darren holds her ponytail so she can’t move her head. He blows right in her face.

Charlene covers her mouth and nose with her palm while Darren laughs.

Randy gestures in their direction. “Someone should take a picture of that.”

I pull out my phone and snap a bunch. “I assume that means he ate the Doritos.”

“And a bag of Funyuns,” Miller says.

I make a face. “Ew.”

“Right?” Randy laces our fingers and pulls me toward the grocery store. “That’s the most bizarre foreplay I’ve ever seen.”

We leave them in the parking lot, grab a grocery cart, and divide and conquer the list. Randy and I spend a significant amount of time in the vegetable aisle. He manhandles all the dick-shaped produce while I take pictures, recording his silliness. When we come back out, we find Darren and Charlene in the back of the SUV. All the windows are open. He looks relaxed, based on the way his arm is stretched across the backseat. Charlene’s face is red, and she looks tense. I’m not sure if the Doritos served their intended purpose or not.

We switch things up for the last leg of the trip, which is short. Sunny and Miller take the backseat of the truck, and Randy takes the wheel while I ride shotgun. We’ve all been to the Chicago cottage before—it was this past spring, right after Alex and Violet got married. They had a party to appease the moms, who didn’t get to plan a wedding. Their Vegas wedding was exactly what those two needed, and not at all what Sunny’s going to get when she and Miller tie the knot.

Skye, Violet’s mom and Miller’s stepmom, and Daisy, Sunny and Alex’s mom, already have a list of three hundred guests, and it keeps growing. Sunny doesn’t seem to mind, and neither does Miller. He’s happy to have a set of moms who want to help out with things, since he lost his when he was a kid.

The only thing I’m worried about for this weekend is too much wedding talk. I’ve noticed that when we spend time with Miller and Sunny and wedding or baby talk comes up—which is frequently, all things considered—Randy gets quiet. I’ve assured him on more than one occasion that I’m not interested in getting knocked up, and he always laughs it off, but I think it makes him nervous anyway.

If I’m honest with myself, I’m not sure I ever want to get married. I don’t necessarily believe it cements people together. Or makes them any more faithful to each other, which is Randy’s primary hang up. I guess one of the good things about having no actual connection to my father is that there’s nothing to miss, or deal with. Robbie Waters, Sunny and Alex’s dad, has always been sort of a dad stand-in for me anyway.

We pull into the driveway behind Alex’s SUV. Both of Alex’s cottages are more house than cabin, but the one in Canada is far more rustic than this. This is a giant, modern house on a lake with lots of windows and gorgeous views of the water from every bedroom.

I love living in Chicago, but having grown up in the much quieter, more rural city of Guelph, the busy-ness of Chicago can be overwhelming. Coming up here, where we can relax and hang out and just be, is necessary sometimes. We unload all the groceries first, and then move upstairs to claim our rooms. The cottage has six bedrooms, all with connected bathrooms and private balconies. It’s almost like staying at a bed and breakfast.

Randy follows me down the hall, away from Alex and Violet’s bedroom. I’ve learned it’s best to give those two some space. Violet is an excitable person, and that includes when she’s getting her freak on. On more than one occasion we’ve overheard her declaring her love for Alex’s monster cock.

Having accidentally seen Alex’s unit once when we were growing up, I can say with definitive certainty that she’s not exaggerating. Randy has a lot going on in that department, but I’m thankful he’s not that big.

Once we’re in our room, Randy closes the door, locking us in. “That was the longest two-hour drive ever.”

I’m aware the quick-and-dirty sex we had in the changing room was a hold-over. Despite our mini discussion, I’m positive Randy’s recent neediness is going to continue this weekend. He drops my suitcase and his duffle on the end of the bed, finds our toiletry bag, and inclines his head toward the bathroom.

“Interested in getting naked with me?”

“You want to shower before we go swimming?”

“Showering wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Oh, no?”

He gives his head a slow shake.

“What kind of naked activity did you have in mind, then?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a trip to the Vagina Emporium.” He lifts his shirt over his head, exposing all those hard ridges and smooth planes of muscle.

“Is that so?”

Randy nods. “But first I want to make a pit stop at Boob Valley.” He tugs the top of my dress so my breasts pop out. My nipples tighten in anticipation.