Jack groaned. “You’re exaggerating—”
“Shut up, I’m telling it,” Leo grinned. “So he leaves the party, completely shit-faced, like wobbling, eyes in two different time zones. I figured he made it back okay.”
Everyone leaned in.
Leo continued, “Next thing I know, I get a call at four in the morning. Jack’s panicking, yelling something about screams and police and that I need to bring towels.”
Jack slapped a hand over his face, already laughing. “It’s not what it sounds like—”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Leo cut in. “He went into the wrong hotel. Walked straight into the honeymoon suite. Got butt naked, climbed into bed, passed out.”
Laughter erupted up and down the bus.
Jack was doubled over now, tears in his eyes. “I woke up toscreaming,man! Like,murder-moviescreaming. The wife’s freaking out, the husband starts chasing me—”
“—and he ran naked down the street,” Leo said triumphantly.
“I never got those clothes back,” Jack muttered, laughing helplessly.
Logan had to wipe his eyes, his chest shaking. Even Adrian was howling now, head thrown back against the seat.
“You’re lucky you didn’t end up on some island watchlist,” Dean chimed in, snorting.
“That man had a machete by the bed!” Jack cried. “A fuckingmachete!Who the hell sleeps next to a machete?”
“Oh, I think I’ve got a better one,” said Amelia, one of the Australian surfers, grinning as she turned in her seat. She jabbed a finger behind her. “Brad,” she called out, pointing to the wiry New Zealander lounging in the row behind her. “Lost a bet in Spain.”
“Please don’t,” Brad groaned, already sinking lower in his seat.
“Shut it,” she laughed. “He had to surf for a week in thistinypink Speedo. No boardshorts. No shame. I swear, it looked like a piece of bubblegum trying to hang on for dear life.”
The bus burst into laughter.
“He’d strut down the beach like he was on a damn catwalk,” she went on, “and that thing barely covered his, well, let’s just say, the entire beach wasveryaware of Brad that week.”
“I have nothing to hide,” he bragged, clearly deciding to own it.
“You got kicked off the beach by day two!” she added, wiping tears from her eyes.
Brad grinned, sitting up with a wink. “Yeah, but not before I got more phone numbers than a nightclub bouncer. Those Speedos did their job. My dignity didn’t survive, but my dick thrived.”
“Your junk almost fell off.”
“Were you looking closely?” Bred leaned forward, locking eyes with Amelia. “I’ve got nothing to hide. I’ll wear them right now if you’re interested. Might just sweeten your vacation.”
Amelia laughed, tossing a rolled-up towel at him. “Save it for the next lost bet, Romeo.”
“I say wear them!” Jack called from the back. “Somebody bet Bred already so he can lose!”
“I’d pay not to see that,” Dean muttered dryly.
“That’s okay, baby,” Bred fired back. “Just send a pic to your mama, she’dloveit.”
The bus erupted again, laughter bouncing off the windows as someone fake-gagged and someone else called Bred a national hazard. Even the driver cracked a grin in the rearview mirror.
But the laughter didn’t drown out the sidelong glances Itay shot Logan’s way. His eyes were like shadows at the edge of his vision—curious, maybe a little wary. Logan felt Itay judging him, questioning his presence here, intruding in the world Adrian had shared with them long before Logan entered the picture. He noticed the way Itay sought Adrian’s attention, leaning too close, his gaze intent and glassy, as though he could still lay some claim to Adrian’s loyalty.
Gradually, the bus quieted, voices drifting to murmurs and the soft clicks of scrolling phones. Logan’s eyelids grew heavy, his head tipping against the cool glass of the window. As he turned slightly, he caught Adrian’s eyes on him, that familiar, steady gaze watching him, calm as a quiet sea. Adrian leaned close, his voice a barely-there whisper in Logan’s ear.
