“Fuck that,” Kyle growls. “I’m all for freezing my dick off for charity, but not every limb. And you”—he points at Alex with the intensity of a mama bear protecting her cub—“are forbidden from even thinking about jumping into that death trap.”
Alex’s delicate features scrunch up. “I-I wasn’t planning on it.” His voice is barely audible over the wind. He’s the most soft-spoken guy I know, and it’s a struggle to figure out what he says at times. “Elliot and I are going to stay right here in Drew’s truck, nice and warm, and watch everyone else reenact the ending ofTitanic.”
“Smart boys,” I say, though my attention gets diverted when Nathan sidles up to Gerard with a mischievous grin.
“You know something, Gerard?” Nathan says, eyes twinkling. “With an ass as big as yours, we won’t need life preservers. If anyone is drowning, all they’ll have to do is grab onto one of your legendary butt cheeks and float their way to safety.”
Before anyone can react, Nathan reaches out and grabs a handful of Gerard’s ass through his swim trunks. He gives it a squeeze that would make a TSA agent blush.
Gerard throws his head back and belts out a booming, infectious laugh that carries across the beach and scares a flock of seagulls. “Nathan, you menace! Hands off the merchandise unless you’re planning to put a ring on it!”
Kyle rolls his eyes hard. “I’m surrounded by children.”
But I’m barely listening because my brain is too busy processing what’s happening. Nathan takes his hand off Gerard’s ass, but a beat later than he should have. His eyes track Gerard’s every movement with an intensity that goes beyond friendly interest as Gerard continues bouncing on his feet to stay warm.
Holy. Shit.Nathan has a crush on Gerard.
The signs have been there all along, haven’t they? Nathan volunteers to be Gerard’s workout partner whenever Elliot is working at the campus library. He laughs more than any of us at Gerard’s terrible jokes. He finds excuses to touch him—a pat on the back here, a shoulder squeeze there, or, like now, a slap on the ass while cracking a joke.
I glance at Elliot, and his furrowed brow tells me he’s noticed too. Living in the Hockey House with all of us, thanks to Gerard’s meddling, means he’s had a front-row seat to Nathan’s pining.
Fuck, this is complicated. Nathan’s a good guy. He’s cheerful, kind, and always the first to lend a hand when someone needs it. But Gerard is completely, utterly, hopelessly gone for Elliot. You can see it in the way his face lights up when Elliot enters a room, and in how he unconsciously leans toward him, like a plant seeking light.
And Elliot, for all his grumpiness, is equally smitten. He pretends to be annoyed by Gerard’s enthusiasm, but I’ve caught him smiling softly when he thinks no one is watching.
Poor Nathan. Crushing on someone who’s completely unavailable sucks. I would know; my disaster of a crush on Jackson Monroe is living proof that feelings don’t give a shit about logic or timing. But at least Jackson doesn’t have a boyfriend. He’s just tragically, devastatingly straight.
“Hey, guys!” a voice I know all too well calls out from up the beach.
Glancing in the direction of my best friend’s voice, my heart thuds faster than a monkey playing the bongos. His hair bounces with each step. His sweatshirt rides up enough to reveal a sliver of toned abs. I’m going to need a cold shower. No, scratch that. I’m about to jump into the freezing Atlantic—that should do the trick.
I force my legs to move, meeting him halfway across the sand. Time to crank the Drew Larney charm up to eleven. Nobody needs to know I’m dying inside.
“Jackson!” I throw my arms wide and pull him into one of those bro hugs where you slap each other’s backs hard enough to leave bruises. He smells of coconut shampoo, and it makes my knees weak. “Ready to freeze your balls off for charity?”
“Born ready.” He laughs, and the sound vibrates through his chest into mine before we separate.
Ryan trails behind him. I snort at the fact that he’s wearing dress pants and loafers to the beach. When I open my arms for him, his entire body goes rigid.
“Come on, Ry Guy. Bring it in, buddy.” I wrap him in the same enthusiastic hug while he stands there with his arms pinned to the sides. It’s fucking hilarious. I count to ten and let him go. “There, that wasn’t half bad.”
“It was delightful.” His tone suggests it was anything but.
“Come on, let me introduce you to the rest of the idiots.” I sling one arm around Jackson’s shoulders, doing my best to ignore how perfectly he fits against my side, and the other around Ryan’s.
We approach the group, and I’m about to launch into introductions when Oliver’s entire face transforms. His jaw drops, unhinging itself, and his eyes grow into saucers.
“Oh my God.” The words come out as a gasp. “Ryan? Ryan Abrams?”
Oliver instantly launches himself at Ryan, wrapping the guy into a bear hug that lifts him clean off the sand, loafers and all.
“Oliver…” Ryan’s voice cracks, muffled against Oliver’s massive chest. “I can’t breathe.”
“Holy shit! I can’t believe it’s you!” Oliver sets him down but keeps his hands on Ryan’s shoulders. He’s beaming. “Guys, this is Ryan! We were neighbors back in elementary school.”
“How did I not know this?!” Jackson stares at Ryan, with his hands on his hips, foot tapping on the sand, waiting for an answer. The pose is an image I’m going to be adding to my spank bank because it’s dominant as fuck.
“We lived next door to each other and then…” Oliver continues to explain. “One day, they were there, and the next day…gone. I never got to say goodbye.”
