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I slide my phone out of my back pocket as Wilder's mouth drops open. Not sure what he expected. This is me trying to be nice.
I hand my phone to Wilder as he stands on one side of me, Cash on the other. Wilder snaps an unenthusiastic selfie as I force a smile.
"Alright," Wilder hands me back the phone. "It's my turn."
"Can I see the photo?" Cash asks.
I open up the Gallery on my phone and hand it over to Cash. "Yep."
I step around my former boyfriend, watching Wilder as he stands over his ball. Wilder knocks the green ball with the club, sending it halfway down the small stretch of turf. It stops three feet from the hole.
"Pathetic," I yawn.
"I'm just getting started," Wilder scoffs.
"You still need some time to warm up?" I tease.
"I'm going to win," he proudly boasts.
"What are we going to wager this time?" I cock an eyebrow and cross my arms over my chest.
Wilder rolls his head on his shoulders. "Cash's front seat."
"If you win, you want the front seat?"
"I do."
"And what do I get if I win?"
"What do you want?" Wilder repositions himself over the ball.
"You already know that answer," I return.
"Try again," he quips.
"If I win," I laugh, "you have to get waxed. By Pierre."
Wilder straightens. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," I challenge.
"Fine," he accepts.
Just as I'm about to respond, Cash's elbow bumps mine. My eyes slide over to my phone, my naked body on full display. Except it's not the set of nudes I took for Wilder. It's the video. The one we made weeks ago on my bed.
Before I can grab it from Cash, Wilder's naked body steps into the frame, climbing onto the bed behind me. Cash drops my phone as his eyes dart from his best friend to me.
"Wh-what the hell happened this summer?"
Chapter 30
The Friend Feud
My life is flashing before my eyes. Every moment this summer reduced to a blinking line of images popping up in front of me, then disappearing.
My phone is free-falling through the air and suddenly crashes to the ground below.
Cash's face is white as a ghost. Wilder's bright green ball is rolling across the dull green turf. A warm breeze is ruffling my hair.
