Chapter One #3
“How does a resident doctor get time off to go to his brother’s stupid ass, multi-day, bachelor party, a several-hour flight away?
” He chuckled to himself, lowering an arm off the side wall and into the water.
“You see, other people have what’s called a social life.
I do not.” He laughed. “And there’s a huge ass twenty-four-hour gym across the highway from the hospital.
Always had a membership, just started forcing myself to go. ”
“You don’t have a social life?” I hit his arm with the back of my hand. “Don’t believe that shit for a second.”
“It’s true. I see my buddies about once a quarter, and I eat and sleep at the hospital four days a week. Fucking brutal. But worth it. And legally necessary.”
“No fucking way.”
“Yes, fucking way.” He shifted and glanced at me. “What about you? You’re a busy man, too.”
“Not really. I barely see Miles anymore. Part of the reason I hit it so hard before coming down here was just being bored as shit.” I shrugged.
“Well, either way…” Ryder looked me up and down again. “It paid off.” His eyes lingered on my torso, half-submerged in the water, before crawling up to my pecs and slowly reaching my eyes. It was uncomfortable, and my stomach flipped, but not in a bad way.
Connor and Tyler jumped over us to do cannonballs, sending a micro-tsunami right in our faces. When they breached, all smiles, Tyler told us to scoot over, while Connor bobbed in the water near us. Ryder shifted back to near silence while we chatted and joked. He got out of the pool not long after.
When we got out, it was almost time to get ready for dinner. Ryder got a head start to beat Miles to the shower. Connor had to wake Jason, his roommate, who had fallen asleep and would have a book-shaped square of untanned skin on his chest for the rest of the trip.
◆◆◆
We had chosen a low-key place for dinner, a short walk down Collins Ave. None of us were sober, but no one was wasted either, so the walk could’ve been worse.
South Beach’s streets overflowed with aromas of mouth-watering food and the pulse-pounding beat of Latin music, even where there was neither.
Miami’s whole vibe was spicy. Even the people.
I love the heat. The hotter, the better.
It helped the slight buzz I caught at the pool, and felt like the bachelor party had truly begun.
Tyler slung his arm around me, making the already muggy May air that much more humid. “Are you going to try the vaca frita?”
“What’s that?” I thought it was some kind of shot.
“Fried beef in garlic, lime juice, and onions.” He smacked his lips. “Making me hungry already.”
“I’ve never heard of it, but it sounds good as fuck.”
“Yeah, bro, that’s why we picked this place.”
“You picked this place.”
“Okay, that’s why I suggested this place.” We laughed. “Been seeing it on TikTok and it makes my mouth water.”
The six of us sat at a giant round table right on the sidewalk. The sun went down as we arrived, settling Collins Ave in shadow, only to be replaced by headlights, louder music, and the neon glow of South Beach.
Ryder sat in silence beside me, as far away from his brother as a circle would allow. Tyler suggested tequila shots, and Jason took out his phone, saying, “Yeah, but let me check in with Beth and the baby first. Wanna say goodnight before her father gets shitfaced.”
Connor slapped his shoulder. “Good man. Good dad. Let’s just hope you’re not in the room when I become a father this weekend.”
“Fucking gross, dude. What the—Hey, honey!” Jason said as his wife answered the call. “Yeah, we’re about to sit down for dinner, and I wanted to say goodnight to her…” He left the table to speak to his little girl in peace.
Connor paled. “Do you think he’s pissed?”
Miles said, “Nah, he’s good. If he was pissed, he wouldn’t have said anything and just walked away.”
“Good.” Connor’s shoulders fell. “I didn’t wanna offend him, or fuck things up right out the gate, night one.”
The shots were waiting for Jason when he returned. We lifted them, and I was about to clink when I noticed everyone staring at me. It only lasted a second, but it was awkward. Like standing on stage after someone pantsed me.
“Does the best man want to say something?” Ryder said just under his breath with a gentle nudge.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” I was never great at thinking on my feet and fumbled my words. “Here’s to a great guy and a great weekend.”
No one moved. Tyler said, “Hopefully the weekend will be better than the guy. Just saying.”
Miles said, “Fuck you, man,” with a laugh, but kept his glass raised and eyes on me.
I wasn’t off the hook. “You’re a great dude, and I’m honored to call you my best friend.” My cheeks heated. “You’re like the brother I never had. Love you, man. Now let’s get fucked up!”
That got some hoots and a few hollers. Connor whistled. The tequila wasn’t top quality, but it was less than half the price of the stuff at the airport. It went down with a burn and a laugh.
I took Tyler’s suggestion and got the vaca frita.
It was every bit as delicious as he made it sound.
Ryder got a Cuban sandwich, which he let me have a bite of in exchange for some of mine, and it was the best damn Cuban I’d ever had.
We ended up trying everyone’s, and I was glad we did.
Croquetas, ceviche, arepas, and more. It wasn’t the most authentic place, catering to tourists like us, but it was still so fucking good.
Tyler suggested we go to a bar after we paid the check. I said, “Do we wanna go heavy the first night? We’ve got a lot of shit planned.”
“Just the one across from the hotel, bro. Nothing serious.” Tyler pushed his chair back from the table with the others.
Miles said, “No, the number one male has a point. Let’s go, but keep it decent.”
Ryder chuckled. “Didn’t know you knew that word.”
It sounded as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. I heard it, so did Tyler, and we made eye contact. Miles said nothing, but his face fell as if Ryder had slapped him, before turning around to catch up with Jason and Connor.
Ryder’s tone wasn’t brotherly annoyance. Had he called him a little bitch, we’d have laughed, Miles included. No, something was up with the two of them. I made a note to check in with Miles when we had a minute alone.
The bar across the street from the hotel was nice for a dive bar. Small and cramped, but cold drinks, and hot people. The Latin music thumped my chest like I was in a club, not a space only large enough for the bar top and three booths.
Ryder seemed to be in a better mood. Or just drank more. Either way, he was more engaged with the rest of the guys. No one sat anywhere, but he was always right beside me. And not just next to me.
A hand on my hip, or the small of my back. Pushing me away with a laugh or squeezing my elbow. His arm slung across my shoulder as he talked to the other guys. At one point, he had both hands on my hip to move me, but lingered there for a few beats too long.
All the guys I’d ever known went out of their way not to touch each other. If they do, it’s fast or painful, depending on their meaning. Then I remembered Ryder was gay… None of his touches were inappropriate. He just had no reason to avoid touching other dudes.
How could I have been so stupid? My face burned.
Connor asked me what was wrong, and I had nothing to say.
It wasn’t just me. Ryder was hanging on everyone.
When he and the rest of his family got drunk, they hang on people.
There have been entire nights where I was a human crutch for piss-drunk Miles.
How could I have forgotten? Maybe because I’m stupid, don’t think about shit like that, and he’s more traditionally masculine than the rest of the guys on that trip? I felt even worse when I remembered how he opened up to me about someone he was seeing, who turned out to be married. Fucking Christ.
I almost succeeded in not letting it bother me, but failed to keep the boys and myself “decent.” We weren’t black out, but would feel it in the morning.