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“If we all agree you’re sexy, will you stop trying to show off?” Xander huffs.
“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I’m not showing off, I’m making an effort.”
“What’s the difference?” Niko cocks his head and squints up at me.
“Showing off would be posing seductively or licking the water drops off my fingers. Making an effort is a simple act to demonstrate that I look good while cooling off.”
“Still not seeing the distinction.” Niko’s lips press together as he shakes his head.
Silly hockey god. “Making an effort is like having self-respect. Wearing actual pants instead of sweatpants when you go out for example, or fixing your hair. Hell, even showering is the effort for some people. Showing off would be flaunting your outfit or your hair.”
“How are you not flaunting then?” Xander sits between Niko’s spread legs on the lounge chair and leans against him, sweaty back and all, and when Niko wraps an arm around his waist the strangest little zing flares in my chest. If I had to define it, I’d go with yearning, which is totally foreign and quite frankly, unwanted. I don’t do yearning, except maybe for cute little dogs or a sick new skateboard. Never people, or couple-y things like cuddling.
I shake my head to clear the feeling. “If I was flaunting, I would’ve rubbed the can all over my body and made sex eyes at Noah. Instead, I made one pass over my chest, a tiny little gesture which is the equivalent of saying I look good even though it’s hot as fuck outside.”
“I can’t believe I’m admitting this.” Niko shakes his head ruefully. “But I actually understand what he’s saying.”
Xander rolls his eyes. “Don’t encourage him.”
“I’m not encouraging, just admitting that I understand his point. Plus, you have to admit, for him, that little show was tame. Just sayin’.”
“Not exactly resounding support, but I’ll take it. Thank you, Niko.” I pop the top on my beer and take a few ambitious gulps, not so subtly showing off my ability to swallow—my deep throat game is strong—and turn my focus to Noah. “You’re awfully quiet over there, big guy. Missing the chill of the ice rink?”
“No, but I am wishing that pool was full of water,” he says.
“Bite your tongue, it’d be a travesty to fill a perfectly good pool with water.”
“Not in this heat.”
“There are other ways to cool off.” I grab a few cubes of ice from the cooler and swing my leg over the foot of the lounge chair. Noah’s eyes pop as he realizes I’m about to sit on his legs, and he quickly drops them to either side of the chair, so my ass hits the cushion instead.
“What are…argh!” he shouts as I press the cubes against his bare chest.
“Tripp,” Xander hisses. “No touching without permission.”
“He’s let me touch his pecs before,” I reason. “And he wanted to cool off.”
“It’s fine,” Noah stutters, his glacial blue eyes locked on mine as his chest heaves under my palm. “I just wasn’t expecting the cold.”
Reaching for Noah’s hand, I guide it to his chest to replace mine, giving him control of the ice. That makes Xander relax but only because he thinks he’s put an end to my antics. As if. Sitting back to admire Noah rubbing the cubes all over himself is a fantasy, and just as satisfying as touching him.
“See. Those nipples perked up nice and tight, no pool necessary.” I grin.
“Jesus, you need a warning label,” Xander mutters.
“If the warning is ‘beware, fun times ahead’ buy me the t-shirt.” I feel rather than see the eye roll since my own are focused on the drop of water meandering over the taught abs in front of me, lingering on one for a mere second before gravity beckons it lower, toward the barest hint of that little happy… Shit, I better stop looking or I’m going to pop a boner. Right here. Right now.
I’m trying to pull my eyes away when the view is spoiled by a beach towel hitting Noah in the chest.
“Dry yourself off before Tripp tries to lick the water away,” Niko tells his friend.
“I wasn’t going to…” Niko’s cocked eyebrow stops me from finishing that sentence. “I was only thinking about it. I’d never do that without permission. Preferably without inquiring eyes… Nope. Forget that last bit. I don't think I'd mind an audience.”
The slight flush in Noah’s cheeks as he rubs the towel over himself has me thinking he might have given permission. Or been tempted to, anyway.
“Stop embarrassing him,” Xander warns me.
“I’m not the one who brought up licking.” I hold my hands up innocently. “If anyone’s embarrassing him it’s you two with the way Niko’s fingers are this close to slipping under your shorts. Go christen something and let me and Noah suffer heat stroke in peace.”
