From his spot in the back, though, he could see that he wasn’t the only one who was going to look ridiculous. Colton, Malcolm, and Gavin were surprisingly good dancers, but everyone else looked like those windup singing animals that people bought at holidays to scare their dogs. They were all stiff-armed and robotic. This was going to be a disaster.

“Noah, like this.” The Russian turned around in front of him in way-too-short shorts and a ribbed white tank top. Black hair poked from every opening, and bulging muscles gave the overall effect of a bear in a human costume. The Russian planted his hands on his hips and swiveled from left to right and then back to front.

“From here,” he explained, gesturing just short of his junk. He then began to pump his hips. Dear God, Noah would never be able to unsee that.

Noah looked at Mack. “You could just shoot me instead, you know.”

The Russian grabbed Noah’s hips and tugged. “Like this.”

“I got it,” he snapped, knocking the Russian’s hands away. “I’m fully capable of thrusting my hips at the appropriate time.”

He just hadn’t done so in a while.

A long while. Just over eighteen months, to be exact.

“You are in bad mood,” the Russian said. “You sleep bad?”

Yeah. Horrible. He’d been tormented all night with alternating dreams of Lexa on an operating table and Lexa caressing his chest. Thrusting his hips was not helping matters.

For the next hour, Clive led them through a dance workout that left Noah panting and sweaty. By the time they were done, he felt like he’d just biked uphill for an hour straight. But just when Noah was close to running into the traffic outside on Broadway, Clive stopped and killed the music.

“Great job,” he said. “We’ll learn the second half next weekend.”

Second half? Noah groaned and wiped his forearm across his brow. Ahead of him, Sonia bent and braced her hands on her knees while Mack leaned against a table to catch his breath. Gavin, Del, and Malcolm collapsed on the floor. Clive had even killed the professional athletes.

Colton sauntered over. “You look like shit today. Worse than normal, even.”

“Fuck off.”

“What’s wrong? You and Alexis get in a fight or something?”

Noah curbed the urge to flip him off and instead stomped to the bar. Sonia tossed him a bottle of water.

“What was that?” Mack asked, jogging to the bar. “You got in a fight with Alexis?”

Noah barely had time to swallow. “No—”

“What was the fight about?”

“We did not get in a fight. Jesus.”

“Well, something obviously happened,” Mack said. “You were late, you do look like shit, and you’re stomping around like someone broke your favorite Star Wars collectible.”

Colton leaned on the bar. “I’m sure it was nothing, Mack. They’re just friends, remember?”

Noah dug in his pocket for his keys. “I’m out of here.”

Mack grabbed the back of his shirt. “Wait. We’re going for breakfast at Six Strings.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I need your opinion on a couple of things, and you obviously need to talk.”

Gavin and Del both hollered from the floor that they had to go home for family stuff. Sonia said she had to go walk her dog, and two other guys—Derek Wilson and Yan Feliciano—said they had other stuff to do too. Nothing specific. Just stuff.

Cowards. All of them.

That left Malcolm, the Russian, Mack, and Colton to stare at Noah with eyebrows arched.

“I’m not going,” Noah repeated. “I have stuff too.” Which was true. It was just that his stuff wasn’t until later that afternoon, but they didn’t need to know that.

Mack stuck out his bottom lip.

Fuuuck. “Fine. I’ll meet you there.”

* * *

* * *

Noah checked his phone as soon as he got back in his car. No message from Lexa. Which wasn’t entirely unusual. Sure, they usually had texted each other by now, but Lexa did say that she was going to have breakfast with Liv today. Still, they normally would have at least said good morning or played a round of Word Nerd by now.

Noah tossed his phone onto the passenger seat with a curse. He should have texted her when he woke up like normal. Because by not texting, he was making last night into something when maybe it hadn’t been.

He drove on autopilot to the restaurant and swung into a spot next to Mack’s car. When he walked in and sat down at their normal table, he was the last to arrive. A cup of coffee waited for him next to a menu that he’d long since memorized. He met the guys here at least every other week. It was off the beaten path, so it didn’t attract a lot of tourists, which was good because most of the guys were recognizable.

“What took you so long?” Mack whined.

Noah dumped creamer into his coffee. “Why the hell are you monitoring my time this morning?”

“Because we need to make a decision by noon.”

“On what?”

Mack thumbed the screen of his phone. “I’m reconsidering the boutonnieres.”

Noah dragged his hands down his face. The last time they talked flowers, it took several hours just to get Mack to choose between white and red. “What’s wrong with the one you picked out before?”

“I discovered that flowers have meanings.”

“Oh, Christ.” Noah ground the heel of his hand into a suddenly throbbing temple.

“I discovered that the Christmas rose can symbolize anxiety,” Mack said. “I can’t wear that at my wedding.”

“It has the word Christmas in it,” Colton said. “What could be more perfect for a December wedding?”

Noah stirred his coffee. “Is there a flower that means giant douchebag? You should get that one.”

Mack ignored Noah and turned his phone around to show off a picture of a small white flower that looked almost exactly like Noah remembered the first one he’d chosen.

“I’m thinking of the white ivy flower,” Mack said. “It stands for fidelity.”

“Perfect,” Noah said. “Go with that.”

“Definitely that one,” Malcolm said, sending Noah a silent thank-you with his eyes.

“Absolutely,” Colton added.

“It’s ugly,” the Russian said.

Noah elbowed him to shut up. Mack’s eyebrows pulled together as he studied the picture again. “You think it’s ugly?”

“It’s not ugly,” Noah said. “The Russian doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Colton got a look in his eyes that said he was about to start some shit. He propped his elbows on the table and leaned toward the Russian. “What kind of flowers did you have in your wedding?”

“I don’t remember,” the Russian answered, cheeks suddenly red.

Noah glared at Colton, who responded with an I told you so smirk.

The waitress interrupted to take their orders. While the guys took turns, Mack suddenly became engrossed in something on his phone. The waitress walked away, and Mack looked directly at Noah.

“So, Liv just texted me.”

A cold shiver ran across Noah’s skin. “And?”

“And when were you going to tell us that you spent the night at Alexis’s house and she saw you without a shirt?”

Ah, fuck. Heat raced up his neck and blazed a path clear to his hairline. But embarrassment quickly became hope, because if she told Liv about it, then it must have meant something. Right?

Colton snorted. “I guess we know why you’re off your game this morning.”

“What happened?” Mack asked.

“Nothing,” Noah gulped.

“Bullshit,” Colton coughed.

“And you were shirtless why?” Mack asked.

“It’s a long story,” Noah mumbled.

Malcolm stroked his beard. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

Noah blew out a frustrated breath, swiped his hands over his hair, and launched into the whole story—Candi, the kidney transplant, the story of Beefcake and his fucking claws. By the time he got to the part about Lexa walking into the bathroom and stopping dead in her tracks, his nipples had started to tingle.

He crossed his arms. “Any questions?”

The Russian raised his hand. Noah called on him.

“Did she sniff you?”

“What the fuck, man? No.”

Another hand shot into the air.

Noah sighed. “Yes, Malcolm?”

“You said she acted weird when she saw you. Can you be more descriptive?”

“What more do you need?”

Mack piped in. “Where did she stare?”

The Russian pouted. “He did not raise his hand.”

Mack raised his hand and repeated the question.

“She stared, you know . . .” Noah let his voice trail off. But when all the guys leaned forward, he gestured toward his pecs. “Here.”

His face got hot again as he lowered his hand and waved it below the belly button. “And here.”

One by one, the guys met one another’s eyes and then in unison, busted into loud, table-shaking laughter. Noah looked around the restaurant and then hissed at them to be quiet.

Mack wiped his eyes. “Dude, she was staring. The real kind of staring.”

“Sure sign,” Colton said. “The happy trail is like catnip for women.”

Noah gaped at him. “The happy what?”

The Russian lifted his shirt and pointed to his stomach. “The line of hair from your belly button to your pork and beans.”

Mack leaned left to whisper, “Frank and beans.”

The Russian looked baffled. “Who is Frank?”

Colton raised his hand. Noah shook his head. “Next.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”

“Doesn’t matter. It’ll be inappropriate. Next question.”