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“Sickening,” Ryan said.
West just crooked his fingers at him, and Ryan gave Den one last glance. “We’re cool?”
“Like ice. Go.”
Ryan followed West. They made their way past the jubilant ladies in the aisle and Randy, who’d somehow been recruited to dance with them. Mal and Michael were still at the table in the kitchen, arguing about some game. Ryan didn’t see Molly, so she must’ve retreated to her bunk to do her toenails in peace.
When West opened the bathroom door and gestured him inside, Ryan blinked. Okay, so Lo hadn’t been kidding. West wanted to have a serious conversation with him away from prying ears. That pretty much left the bathroom and a lot of flushing.
Fuck me.
“Really?” Ryan asked as cheers and jeers sounded behind them. “Is this your idea of fun?”
West backed against the sink and waggled his brows. “Maybe. Is it yours?”
The laughter behind them grew louder. Leave it to West to not use his inside voice. Ever.
“Oh, I’d pay good money to see this.” Jules gave Ryan a shove from behind into the bathroom. “Boys with boys is my favorite kind of show. In fact, I keep hoping that my boys will get on that train.”
“Not gonna happen, Jules,” Randy said in a long-suffering voice.
“What’s the fascination?” Molly asked. “Don’t you want your men focused on you?”
“Oh, they are, trust me. But watching them focus on each other would also be totally hot. It’s a panty-soaker. Check out some porn sometime.”
“If you say so.”
Molly didn’t sound entirely convinced, but Ryan was convinced of one thing—he was ready to get this conversation with West over with so he could get out of the damn bathroom.
“All right, out with it,” Ryan said, pulling the door shut behind him and closing out the continuing talk of the benefits of male-on-male action.
He definitely didn’t have a pony in that race. His horse was aimed directly at one Denver Casey.
“You’re banging Denver.”
Ryan leaned against the door. It was a handy way to keep from sliding to the floor.
He shouldn’t have been that surprised. As much as he and Den had tried to be careful, they lived with these people day in and day out. Most of them had love goggles on, but they weren’t stupid.
And of course, he’d just been talking about fucking her approximately three feet away from West and Lo and the others. He did have an inside voice, but still. Asking for trouble might as well have been his middle name.
Yet instead of being concerned that West knew, he was glad. West was his best friend—one of them anyway. If it had been up to Ryan, he would’ve hung up a damn banner announcing the fact.
But it wasn’t. He understood Denver’s concerns—most of them—and he respected her and cared about her enough not to push her more than was necessary.
External pushes that he hadn’t intentionally caused? Well, those were something else altogether. One might even call that kismet. Especially when the person asking was a guy he trusted with his life.
West kicked Ryan’s boot. “Are you reminiscing or what? I asked you a question, asshat.”
“What part of that was a question? Sounded more like a statement.”
“Are you denying it?”
“What, are you the sex police now?”
“I get it.” West nodded sagely. “She doesn’t want people to know so you’re playing dumb. A natural role for you, by the way.”
Ryan moved away from the door and braced his hands against the edge of the sink beside West. There wasn’t much room to move, but he didn’t mind because he didn’t want to raise his voice for this segment of the conversation.
