My heart swells at the sight. Kyle’s prickliness hides a core of pure protectiveness, and watching him take care of Alex reminds me why I love this team so much.
I finally start stripping once everyone else has made the plunge. My hoodie goes first, then my shirt, both folded neatly on a nearby bench because I’m not a complete heathen. My shorts follow, leaving me in my boxers as the cool air raises goosebumps across my skin.
The water churns with splashing bodies and muffled laughter.Gerard’s synchronized swimming routine with Sebastian involves way too much hip movement. Drew’s floating on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a blissed-out expression.
I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my boxers and bend down to shuck them off when a low whistle cuts through the air behind me.
I spring upright and whip around to find Jackson and Ryan standing five feet away. Jackson’s wearing a shit-eating grin, and Ryan is red-faced and desperately trying to find anywhere else to look.
“Damn, Jacoby,” Jackson drawls, crossing his arms over his chest. “That hockey butt’s looking bigger than the full moon outside.”
I’m suddenly very aware that my boxers are around my ankles and everything God gave me is on full display. My hands fly to cup my junk with what I hope is casual confidence.
“Jackson.” I clear my throat. “Glad you could make it.” My eyes slide to Ryan, who’s now studying the ceiling tiles. “You too, Ryan.”
“Thanks for the invite.” Jackson’s grin doesn’t waver. “Even though it was technically Drew.”
“Jackson!” Drew’s voice echoes from the pool. “Get your pretty ass in here!”
Jackson doesn’t need to be told twice. He strips easily, comfortable with being naked around us, thanks to the Ice Queen’s scheming last semester. He launches himself into the pool, sending a tidal wave crashing over Gerard’s head.
And then it’s just Ryan and me.
Yin and yang. Nude and not-nude.
The silence stretches between us, broken only by the splashing in the pool and Gerard’s indignant sputtering about chlorine in his eyes.
“So,” I say, because someone has to break the ice, and apparently, that someone is going to be the naked guy. “You came.”
Ryan’s gaze drops from the ceiling to my face. His cheeks arestill flushed, the color spreading down his neck and disappearing beneath his collar.
“Jackson insisted.” His voice comes out strained. “He said it would be good for me to…participate in things.” He swallows hard. “Though I’m starting to question his judgment.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. It’s the most words Ryan has said to me in two years, and they’re happening while I’m standing here with my hand on my junk like some kind of obscene garden statue. “You don’t have to get in,” I tell him, nodding toward where Kyle and Alex are sitting with their feet dangling in the water. “Kyle’s keeping Alex company. No pressure.”
Ryan’s eyes flick to the guys, then back to me. Something shifts in his expression—determination, maybe, or resignation. It’s hard to tell in the blue-tinged darkness.
“I didn’t come all this way to sit on a bench,” he says quietly.
My heart skips, then races, then seems to expand against my ribs like it’s trying to reach him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He reaches for the top button of his shirt, and his fingers tremble slightly. “Just…maybe turn around? Please?”
“Oh! Right. Yeah. Absolutely.” My body whips around, heels skidding across the slick surface with a sound like a dolphin's squeak.
Behind me, a button pops free. Then another. A zipper's teeth. Shoes tap against tile.
“Oliver?”
“Yeah?”
“I know I’ve been avoiding you.” A pause. “I’m sorry.”
I want to turn around and see his face, to understand what’s happening in this moment. But he asked me not to look, so I don’t. “You don’t have to apologize. People change. Lives go in different directions. I get it.”
“That’s not—” Ryan makes a frustrated sound. “It’s complicated.”
“Life usually is.”
