Jason, who was on the lounge chair on the other side of me, groaned. “Damn. You weren’t kidding.”
Connor sat up with a wicked grin. “You can’t cage a tiger, bro.”
“But you can neuter them.” Tyler moved Connor’s legs off the chair so he could sit. “Maybe we should, for Jason’s sake.”
“Fuck off,” Connor said, laughing.
Jason asked, “Where’re the brothers?”
Miles and Ryder appeared through the twisting, hanging plant and shrubbery-lined path that led from the hotel to the pool area. Neither brother looked pleased to be there, but brightened as they approached.
When he got within speaking range, Miles said, “Why’s no one in the pool?” He stripped his shirt off and flung it in Tyler’s face before jumping in. Tyler and Connor followed, trying to jump on and drown the groom.
Ryder plopped down next to me in the vacated lounge chair. “Are you guys going in?”
Jason was rooting around in his bag, then chuckled. “I work over fifty hours a week, have a two-year-old at home, and a mortgage we can just afford. The only thing I want to do is finish the book—”he held up a fantasy tome at least two inches thick, “—I started two and a half years ago. Or pass out in five minutes.”
Ryder laughed. “No hate, man. I feel you. I’ve been trying to get through a sci-fi alternate reality book for like half a year.” He looked at me. “What about you?”
“Not yet. In a little. Want to work on my tan first.”
His eyes raked up and down my lounging body. “You need it. Pasty ass motherfucker.” Ryder wasn’t looking in my eyes, and something about his tone sent a drop of acid loose in my stomach. When we made eye contact, he laughed and shoved me. “I do too, for what it’s worth.” As if to prove his point, he sat up and took his tight tee off.
I’d known Ryder for so many years, having been on vacations with him and his family, holidays at their house, and even Miles’s plus-one to relatives’ weddings. I hadn’t seen him without a shirt on since high school. Ryder was the first guy I knew who had abs in real life. That, plus being a good few inches taller than me when I was younger, meant I was always trying to puff my chest up around him, but ended up shrinking instead.
He was in better shape than he was a year ago at Miles’s engagement party, which was more obvious with his shirt off. His pecs had a fine layer of silky black hair that made the thick muscles beneath look carved in stone. Those high school abs had multiplied from a six-pack to an eight. Each bicep looked strong enough to crush a coconut. And his shoulders were wide enough to check a motherfucker into next Tuesday.
Ryder looked like a Ralph Lauren model with his clothes on, but something else entirely with his shirt off. I worked out, ate clean, and got in fantastic shape after college. I had my own six-pack, a broad chest, big arms, and was less than an inch shorter than him. But I still felt like a weakling next to Ryder. I blushed, and my stomach sank like it always did when he was around.
He caught my eye and, with a slight curl to his lip, said, “Told you. I’m pasty as fuck, too.”
I forced a laugh. “Yeah.”
“You should both put sunscreen on.” Jason didn’t look up from his book. “Skin cancer is no joke.”
“I applied in the room,” Ryder said. “Fuck cancer. But fuck wrinkles too.”
“Good point. If you need some Finn, it’s in my bag.” With that, Jason retreated into his fantasy world for the next hour.
I took him up on the offer and promised to buy my own when we left the hotel, before turning my attention to the sun. What tension I was holding released in the heat. I didn’t know why I was edgy. Probably the flight, and a mild hangover from the shots in the airport.
The other guys finished their swim and joined us. We chatted, except for Jason, who kept his nose in his book, and Ryder, who kept his eyes closed and mouth shut. Soon, sweat dripped down my chest and stung my eyes. Miles was sharing my lounge chair and said, “You’re looking crispy. You should jump in.”
“About to,” I said as Ryder made his splash landing, beating me into the water.
I slipped in instead. The cooling was immediate and intense. I was going to get out, but Ryder dunked me.
When I breached the surface, Ryder had his hands up in retreat, wearing a shitty grin. I laughed, splashed him, and said, “I owe you one, now.”
His grin deepened. “Noted.”
The chill faded, and the cool water felt good on my sun-kissed skin. Instead of getting out, I floated over to one of the built-in benches across the pool. Ryder followed.
“How’s work going?” he asked.
“It’s going. Same shit, different day. Not like you.”
Ryder chortled. “Trust me, more times than not it’s the same shit, too.”
