Chapter One #2
The hotel was pretty cool. Had this modern luxury vibe, with seats made of spooled rope, and millions of tiny lights hanging from the ceiling. Giant out-of-focus framed pictures of nearly nude models hung on every wall.
We didn’t see much of the city when we first arrived.
Since it was still early, we dropped our bags, got our suits on, and rotted in the sun by the pool.
Our hotel was small, but it had two pools.
Neither was tiny, but they encouraged interaction between the guests.
It was busy, not packed, so there were plenty of people to interact with and plenty of seats to snag.
For a group of twenty-something guys with six-packs, we were in heaven. Other than Jason and the groom, the rest of us were unattached, and there were plenty of gorgeous members of the opposite sex to make friends with, or ogle at and get ogled by.
“Bro, she’s checking one of us out.” Connor pointed out a hot blonde across the narrow pool. “I think… wait…” He flashed a smile. “Yeah, it’s me.”
“Gonna shoot your shot?” I asked.
Connor looked at me as if I had nine heads. “The fuck? I’m not desperate, bro. No. Now I know she thinks I’m hot. The next time I’m close enough to talk to her, I will. Guarantee she’ll be riding me tonight.”
Jason, who was on the lounge chair on the other side of me, groaned. “Damn. You weren’t kidding.”
Connor sat up with a wicked grin. “You can’t cage a tiger, bro.”
“But you can neuter them.” Tyler moved Connor’s legs off the chair so he could sit. “Maybe we should, for Jason’s sake.”
“Fuck off,” Connor said, laughing.
Jason asked, “Where’re the brothers?”
Miles and Ryder appeared through the twisting, hanging plant and shrubbery-lined path that led from the hotel to the pool area. Neither brother looked pleased to be there, but brightened as they approached.
When he got within speaking range, Miles said, “Why’s no one in the pool?” He stripped his shirt off and flung it in Tyler’s face before jumping in. Tyler and Connor followed, trying to jump on and drown the groom.
Ryder plopped down next to me in the vacated lounge chair. “Are you guys going in?”
Jason was rooting around in his bag, then chuckled.
“I work over fifty hours a week, have a two-year-old at home, and a mortgage we can just afford. The only thing I want to do is finish the book—” he held up a fantasy tome at least two inches thick, “—I started two and a half years ago. Or pass out in five minutes.”
Ryder laughed. “No hate, man. I feel you. I’ve been trying to get through a sci-fi alternate reality book for like half a year.” He looked at me. “What about you?”
“Not yet. In a little. Want to work on my tan first.”
His eyes raked up and down my lounging body.
“You need it. Pasty ass motherfucker.” Ryder wasn’t looking in my eyes, and something about his tone sent a drop of acid loose in my stomach.
When we made eye contact, he laughed and shoved me.
“I do too, for what it’s worth.” As if to prove his point, he sat up and took his tight tee off.
I’d known Ryder for so many years, having been on vacations with him and his family, holidays at their house, and even Miles’s plus-one to relatives’ weddings.
I hadn’t seen him without a shirt on since high school.
Ryder was the first guy I knew who had abs in real life.
That, plus being a good few inches taller than me when I was younger, meant I was always trying to puff my chest up around him, but ended up shrinking instead.
He was in better shape than he was a year ago at Miles’s engagement party, which was more obvious with his shirt off.
His pecs had a fine layer of silky black hair that made the thick muscles beneath look carved in stone.
Those high school abs had multiplied from a six-pack to an eight.
Each bicep looked strong enough to crush a coconut.
And his shoulders were wide enough to check a motherfucker into next Tuesday.
Ryder looked like a Ralph Lauren model with his clothes on, but something else entirely with his shirt off.
I worked out, ate clean, and got in fantastic shape after college.
I had my own six-pack, a broad chest, big arms, and was less than an inch shorter than him.
But I still felt like a weakling next to Ryder.
I blushed, and my stomach sank like it always did when he was around.
He caught my eye and, with a slight curl to his lip, said, “Told you. I’m pasty as fuck, too.”
I forced a laugh. “Yeah.”
“You should both put sunscreen on.” Jason didn’t look up from his book. “Skin cancer is no joke.”
“I applied in the room,” Ryder said. “Fuck cancer. But fuck wrinkles too.”
“Good point. If you need some Finn, it’s in my bag.” With that, Jason retreated into his fantasy world for the next hour.
I took him up on the offer and promised to buy my own when we left the hotel, before turning my attention to the sun. What tension I was holding released in the heat. I didn’t know why I was edgy. Probably the flight, and a mild hangover from the shots in the airport.
The other guys finished their swim and joined us.
We chatted, except for Jason, who kept his nose in his book, and Ryder, who kept his eyes closed and mouth shut.
Soon, sweat dripped down my chest and stung my eyes.
Miles was sharing my lounge chair and said, “You’re looking crispy. You should jump in.”
“About to,” I said as Ryder made his splash landing, beating me into the water.
I slipped in instead. The cooling was immediate and intense. I was going to get out, but Ryder dunked me.
When I breached the surface, Ryder had his hands up in retreat, wearing a shitty grin. I laughed, splashed him, and said, “I owe you one, now.”
His grin deepened. “Noted.”
The chill faded, and the cool water felt good on my sun-kissed skin. Instead of getting out, I floated over to one of the built-in benches across the pool. Ryder followed.
“How’s work going?” he asked.
“It’s going. Same shit, different day. Not like you.”
Ryder chortled. “Trust me, more times than not it’s the same shit, too.”
“Really? Aren’t you, like, always dealing with emergencies and stuff?”
“Sometimes.” Ryder smiled, squinting in the sun. “Sometimes it’s different every day, every hour, and it’s exhausting. But other times it’s the same thing over and over. Not as tiring, but still taxing.”
“Yeah, but you’re saving lives.”
He shifted, sending a little wave to lap my ribs. “More like helping uninsured patients who use the ER as their primary care. But I guess I’ve saved a few.” He looked away from the sun. “Or helped, really. I’m still a resident.”
“Guess I never thought of it that way.”
“Yeah, man. Wish it was better for them, but it is what it is.” He looked at me, holding his hand up to block the sun. “Genuine emergencies are rare. A few a week. I do more good with uninsured folks than the hypochondriac regulars I see daily.”
“People go to the emergency room that often?”
Ryder nodded. “This one woman, overweight, in her seventies, is in every other week, if not more. But,” he scrunched his nose, “I don’t think she has many people in her life, so calling 911 after a weird poop lets her interact with other people.”
“Is weird poop your official medical assessment?” I chuckled.
He laughed. “Yes.” He laughed again. “The EMTs know her by name, too.”
“No shit. You’re fucking with me.”
“Swear to God,” he said.
I liked Ryder, but never thought he felt the same way.
He wasn’t mean or rude. He just kinda ignored me.
I always got the impression he’d forget I was there when we all hung out.
It got better as we got older, but I wouldn’t say we were close.
Or friends. He was my best friend’s older brother, and not much more.
That wasn’t the case the last time we spoke one-on-one.
We were at Miles’s surprise proposal and engagement party.
I had been a little buzzed and overwhelmed, and I opened up to him about how hard it was to find someone and how much easier getting proposed to must be versus getting down on one knee.
He was awesome and gave me advice on not waiting for someone to just show up, that I had to take an active role in my life.
Advice I hadn’t taken. It was a nice memory.
Even if I was embarrassed as all hell come the morning.
Outside of that, chatting on the pool’s built-in bench was maybe one of the longest one on one conversations we’d ever had.
Definitely longer than any he’d had with the other guys.
Not that I minded. It was weirdly nice. I’d spent so many years convinced he either hated me or thought so little of me it didn’t even amount to dislike.
But feeling like a cool kid in his eyes for once was. .. yeah, I couldn’t describe it.
I felt that way even more so when he said, “You look good, bro. You’re really hitting the gym.”
My cheeks heated. More than anyone else, I craved Ryder’s approval in fitness. I was such a small, wimpy kid, and he was this awesome guy who consistently crushed it. I’d always wanted to impress him the way he had me.
“Thanks, man.” The bench was uncomfortable, and I shifted my weight. “You do too,” I said with burning cheeks. “Bulked up since last year.”
“Thanks, busted ass after the engagement party, but I wanted to look good down here. Figured we’d spend a lot of time shirtless.” He looked me up and down. “For real, though. Little Finny’s all grown up.” He squinted and smirked in the sun.
An awkward chuckle stumbled from my throat. I’d been all grown up for years at twenty-four. But I guess he didn’t think about me much.
“So are you, bro.” I made a show of evaluating him the way he had me. His body was impressive. Bulk without heft, like a professional athlete who had time to cut and hone. Nothing was too big on him, which made me ask, “When does a resident doctor find the time to go to the gym?”