The sound of the water being turned on in the shower had me glancing toward the closed door.

And it had me sighing.

The next thing it had me doing was slapping myself on the forehead.

He was so much fun. We got along great, and he was one of my favorite people even after so long. The episode we had recorded for the orange cranberry pound cake had honestly been the most fun I had probably ever had doing Lazy Baker stuff. We’d laughed our asses off from the moment he’d come to stand next to me until we finished filming. We were always laughing.

And it just so happened he was easy to look at.

I was so lucky to have him around, period.

I wasn’t going to fuck this up. Not this time. It didn’t matter that his body had been blessed by Greek gods or that he was a wonderful person with a tremendous heart.

He was my friend, and that was it.

Reaching back, I grabbed the remote from the nightstand and turned on the television, waiting to hear back from Connie or Guillermo. I flexed my toes and feet, rolling my ankles from all the freaking dancing. Everything was achy, and goddamn was I sweaty.

I took my time flipping through the channels, leaving it on a rerun of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air as I lifted my arms over my head and tried to stretch my lower back without contaminating the rest of Zac’s bed.

“I needed that,” my old friend said on a long yawn, scaring the shit out of me because I hadn’t even realized he’d opened the bathroom door. “I’m feelin’ brand new now.”

He was standing at the doorframe in another thin white shirt and… boxer briefs.

Yeah, those weren’t shorts on him. Those were boxer briefs. Navy blue ones.

Well, if he wasn’t going to make a big deal about it, neither was I.

He stood there rubbing his head with a towel, his legs long and bare. The muscles in his arms bunched as he dried his hair off. That usual smile of his was fixed onto his mouth. I swallowed.

“I bet. I could use one too,” I told him. His face. Not his boxer briefs.

“Jump in there. I brought an extra shirt and some boxer briefs you can borrow,” he offered, blue gaze on me as he drew the towel away from his head.

I glanced at my phone plugged into his charger. It might be a while.

“You sure?” I asked.

“Long as you don’t fart in them.”

I snickered. “I won’t mark over your territory.”

Zac laughed as he stepped further into the room, going straight for his bag and pulling out a dark blue T-shirt and, yep, boxer briefs too. I stood up and took the clothes from him, brushing my finger along the sweet spot of his ribs that had him dodging away from me on a laugh.

I took my time showering, taking advantage of the free shampoo and conditioner that were mounted to the wall. Luckily, I’d shaved before I’d gotten dressed for the wedding and nothing had grown back in that aggressively over a few hours. My hair was going to be a wreck without my usual hair products, but I’d rather it be clean and frizzy than sweaty.

Plus, Zac had known me back when I hadn’t done anything but put ass-loads of gel into my hair and it had still been a mess.

I eyed his tube of toothpaste and put a little on my finger, spreading it over my teeth and tongue before rinsing. I felt a lot better once I opened the door. Zac was lying against the headboard, his phone in one hand. He set it aside almost instantly before looking over.

I didn’t let myself feel self-conscious about standing there in his boxer briefs and T-shirt. My underwear and bra were damp from the sweat too, so I’d folded them into my dress and figured that was good enough. I mean, if he looked hard enough, he could tell I wasn’t wearing a bra, but I couldn’t see him doing that. Between football and dating, he’d probably seen more nipples in his life than most people would in several lifetimes.

I smiled at him.

His gaze flick down to my clothes for a second, his lips quirking just a little. “Sometimes I think you can’t be any cuter, and then you go and put on my underwear.”

I blinked and clung to his joke. “I’m a little disappointed there isn’t a giant Spiderman on them, honestly.”

“Giant Spiderman? You’re gonna make me blush, kiddo.”

I groaned and walked around the bed, hoping my boobs weren’t bouncing around all over the place. He patted the bed beside him with another one of his big smiles as I crossed around the front of him, taking in his bare feet he had crossed at the ankles. They were nice feet. They weren’t milk white like I’d half expected.

I sat down on the other side of the bed and checked my phone. Then I pulled the pillow out from under the comforter and set it on my lap and in front of my chest—because the room felt a lot colder than I’d originally thought—as I pressed my spine against the headboard, knees together and to the side toward Zac.

“Good shower?” he asked, looking so cute, his skin still soft and pink and dewy. For some reason, he reminded me of young Zac right then.

“Very,” I sighed before yawning. “Con still hasn’t called me back. I tried Yermo too, but he hasn’t texted me either.” I scrunched up my toes as the air conditioner kicked on. “I can go see if they’ll let me into my room so you can go to bed.”

His head rolled to the side. “Stay here until she does, Bibi. I’m not kickin’ you out.”

Bibi? He’d never called me that before, but I could roll with it. I lifted a shoulder. “Maybe you wanted to go to sleep or go do something else….”

Zac full-on rolled onto his side to look at me.

He really was too cute. He’d shaved, and it just made his face seem even more tan.

“Go do what?” he asked softly, sounding serious. “Darlin’, I’m asleep by ten every night. And who else would I wanna go out with?”

I did know that. “You know a lot of people here, and I don’t want to—”

“Swear on my life, if you use the word ‘bother’ or ‘interrupt’ or ‘inconvenience,’ I’m gonna do something you’re not gonna like,” he tried to threaten. “I’ll put Titanic on.”

It took me a second, but I laughed. “You remember that?”

He laughed too. “How the hell could I forget? You hated it and wouldn’t stop talking about how much you hated it. You made me hate it.”

I let my head drop back to the headboard again. “I really did hate it. I still do. She totally could have scooted over. I would have.”

All those crinkly, bright features twisted up even more, splendid and shining and everything. “You would’ve. I know.”

I smiled at him with a shrug.

“And I’m serious. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Peewee. Just ’cause I know a lot of people doesn’t mean I wanna see ’em all the time. ’Cause I don’t.”

My fingers pinched the hem of his T-shirt. “You used to like going out and always doing stuff around other people. I just assumed.”

“I do still, but less than before, and only when I feel like it. Which, like I said, is a lot less now than it ever used to be. Mama said I’m finally growin’ up and appreciatin’ quality over quantity, and I guess she’s right.” His eyelids dropped low over his blue eyes for a moment. “I’ve been up and down so much, I learned who matters and who to take with a grain of salt, and that’s most folks.”