13
By the time they were actually outdoors and about to go and check on some of nature’s most perfect predators, Ryan was starting to realize he’d made a mistake. He wasn’t one of the animal guys from the sanctuary, and he wasn’t really much of an adventurer, either.
“American crocodiles are some of the biggest in the world,” Oscar said, as though he’d been reading Ryan’s thoughts and looking for the most terrifying thing he could say in response to them. “Not so much the Florida population, though. Ours only get up to maybe thirteen feet.”
“Thirteen feet,” Ryan repeated. “Onlythirteen feet. That’s two of me and a handful of inches to spare.”
Oscar paused, looking him up and down. Mentally stacking him on his own shoulders, probably. Ryan knew he was a big guy—at six-three, he towered over most people who weren’t professional basketball players.
Thirteen feet was enormous.
“They get up to twenty feet in Central America. The population in Florida is a remnant, so less genetically diverse, so… weaker, kind of. It’s more complicated than that, but crocodiles aren’t exactly my animal.”
Ryan couldn’t quite see how a thirteen-foot aquatic predator wasweak, at all, but Oscar was the animal guy. He’d know better.
“I’m not expecting to see anything over six or seven feet, if it makes you feel any better.”
On Oscar’s other side, Freddie made a disappointed noise. Oscar laughed.
“You don’t really want the big ones running around your property. A seven-foot crocodile is a big animal, and they’re fast. Thirteen feet is huge, and Ryan’s right, sayingonlythirteen feet kinda underplays it.”
“But they’d becool,” Freddie said.
Ryan liked him less every time he said something.
Which at least told him that he hadn’t flipped a switch or something in his brain that’d leave him salivating after every objectively attractive man he came across now. Not that he’d really been worried about that, but it was comforting to know that he still had taste.
It definitely wasn’t jealousy. And if itwas, then that was a stupid feeling. Oscar didn’t belong to him. He knew that.
What Ryanknewand what hefelt, though, were sometimes different things. Like everyone, he supposed.
He could still be nice. Freddie hadn’t actually been anything other than charming toward him, and having him on-side could have been their ticket to saving the sanctuary, so his irrational dislike would just have to take a back seat. Wasting this opportunity would have been phenomenally stupid.
“Got any other fun crocodile facts?” Ryan asked, trying to distract himself from how close they were getting to the water.
He’d be fine. Oscar had promised, and he trusted Oscar. Trusting Oscar so far had worked out well for him.
If only he could tell that to the knot in his stomach.
“Well, they’re bulletproof,” Oscar said. “Because the skin on their upper body is bony.”
“I wasn’t planning on shooting one,” Ryan responded. He wouldn’t have known which end of a rifle to hold.
“Crocodile tears are a real thing,” Oscar continued, clearly on a roll. “They cry while they eat because eating causes them to swallow air, which puts pressure on their tear glands. Not because they feel guilty or anything.”
“So they’re not gonna regret eating me,” Ryan said.
“No,” Oscar said. “Well. Swallowing your belt buckle would probably hurt.”
Freddie chuckled. “Wouldn’t wanna be inconvenient for a crocodile to eat, would we?” he joked, looking over at Ryan.
“Guess not.” He shrugged. “I mean, they’re meant to be endangered, right?”
“Vulnerable,” Oscar continued. “Though the local population is a little worse off than that. Poaching and habitat destruction are real problems for a lot of local wildlife.”
“Poaching?” Freddie asked.
“For the skin,” Ryan responded, sure he was right about that. It was the only thing that made sense.
