“I was looking for a bathroom, honey.”

“Don’t honey me, you, you—he tried to . . . he was going to . . .”

His eyebrows lift, along with the corners of his mouth. “What exactly do you think I was trying to do, sweetheart?”

Lily is shaking and brandishing the toilet paper holder like it’s a sword. She seems to be having trouble with words. And her face is bright red. It’s the most flustered I’ve ever seen her. Sunny pulls the cups of her bathing suit up over my hands. I give her boobs one last courtesy squeeze before I let them go.

“I was in the middle of shaving my legs! You burst into the bathroom. I’m naked under this towel!”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what’s going on under that towel.” Randy smirks. “If you’d locked the door maybe I wouldn’t have gotten a front-row seat to the beaver show.”

“You—I—you’re disgusting!” As she spins around, the two sides of the towel fly open, giving everyone another shot of beaver.

“I like the natural look,” Randy says.

She flips the bird over her shoulder as she storms away. “My waxer’s been sick.”

“I’m happy to help out, if you want,” Randy calls after her.

“You’re an asshole.” The screen door slams shut.

“So . . . I guess you met Lily.” Sunny swings her legs over the edge of the hammock and uses my shoulders as a brace to stand. “She’s not usually like that. She and Benji broke up last night. Again. For the fourth time on this trip, so she’s in a bit of a mood.”

“Is that the guy sleeping in the trailer out front?” Randy asks, staring at the screen door. He takes off his hat and spins it on his finger. That’s his contemplation move. It means he’s sizing up the competition and coming up with a plan of attack. I wish him luck. Lily’s vagina probably has teeth—like Jaws.

“Mm-hmm.” Sunny runs her fingers absently through my hair. “He’s been in there since we got here.”

I catch movement in my peripheral vision. Glancing toward the lake, I see Bushman. He’s standing on the end of the dock with one hand shading his eyes from the sun, looking up at us. I stand, skimming Sunny’s sides with my fingertips, enjoying her shiver. “We should find a place to talk so we can sort through this.”

“Okay.” Her hands are still on my shoulders. One slips behind my neck, and she stands up on the balls of her feet to pull me in for another kiss. I shouldn’t let it happen since I’m still questioning a lot of her motives, but Bushman heads for the stairs, so I let her have what she wants.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MOTHERPUCKING FAIL

Bushman comes storming up the stairs, his skinny legs almost buckling under his non-existent upper body. Okay, he’s not that skinny, but I’m a big guy, so he looks tiny in comparison. Or that’s how I want to see him, since he tried to mack on my girl. I still need the details so I can determine whether or not I’m going to dick-punch him.

Sunny sighs. “Here we go. He’s about to have a hissy fit.”

“I thought only girls under the age of twelve threw those.”

“And Kale. It’s one of the many reasons I broke up with him.” She takes a small step away from me. “I don’t think he expected you to be here.”

“Is it a problem that I am?” I don’t like that she’s put distance between us. It tells me things her words don’t, like that his feelings matter to her.

“No. Of course not.” She laces her fingers through mine. “It’s . . . complicated.”

I hate that word. I’ve spent my entire life managing complicated bullshit. School was complicated. My mother’s death was complicated. My career makes this attempted relationship complicated.

“Uh, you could avoid him if you go inside and find a room to hide in,” Randy suggests.

I’d forgotten he was on the deck with us.

“Seriously. Go. I can deal with his scrawny ass.” He cracks his knuckles and grins. “It should be fun.”

Sunny grabs my hand. I follow her inside, through a huge living room with vaulted ceilings and a massive stone fireplace that burns real wood. We pass the kitchen. On the table is a centerpiece that looks a lot like a giant dick. She pauses briefly at the front door and shoves her feet into a pair of Birks before we head back outside. We pass the trailer and go right, through a narrow gap in the trees, onto a path.

“Where are we going?” What I really want to know is why we’re avoiding Bushman and not telling those hipster douches to take their trailer and GTFO.

“There’s a trail up here; it leads to the water. It’s private, and we can talk without any interruptions. Make sure you stay on the trail; there’s tons of poison ivy out here.”

“I’m immune, but thanks for the warning.”

“Immune? How do you know that?”

“I fell in a patch when I was a kid. Nothing happened.”

“Wow, that’s lucky, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Real lucky.” The kid I was with had to go to the hospital. He was covered in the rash.

Sunny’s moving so fast it’s almost a jog.

“Is the running necessary?” My balls, which are in way better shape now than they were this morning, still aren’t perfect. All the movement is making them achy and itchy. Also, seeing Sunny’s boobs a few minutes ago has given me a semi.