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“Sheriff Menchin?” she suggested. “Some would call him…unlawfully arresting.”
“Dude, no way.” I made a cross with my fingers, as if to ward him off. “He is too G.I. Jock.”
“What does that even mean?”
“He feels like the type to wrestle a bear bare-chested…then steal its wife. The man hunts for fun and goes to gun shows.”
“That’s not a crime.”
“Sure, but it’s not my type either.”
“Rhyland?” Her eyes lit up. “Rhy’s everyone’s type. Hot as Hades, all charm and style. I’ve yet to find one woman who’d turn him down. Taken or not.”
“He’s too…obviously attractive.”
“Sure, we don’t want that. Nothing turns me on more than missing teeth and some nose hair. Really brings out the allure and mystery in a man.” My BFF’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “Hey, what about Row?”
I was just taking a sip of my mocktail, so of course I sprayed it all over her bed, proceeding to cough in horror. “My goodness, Dylan, I’d never—”
“Oh stop. You would because you did. You can’t tell me he isn’t your type. I’ve got receipts.”
Our eyes met, and she looked somber all of a sudden. We were both transported back to the night she’d caught us together. “I’m not doing anything to jeopardize our friendship ever again.” I swallowed hard.
“You wouldn’t be jeopardizing anything. I hereby give you permission to pork my brother. Just please spare me the details. I’m dealing with awful reflux as it is.”
I thought back about Row saying Dylan had told him she wouldn’t mind if we hooked up. My stomach twisted. I was running out of excuses not to act on this attraction.
“He seems like a player.” I began itching away the cool, damp sheet on my face. “And even if I went for something casual, I’d only be down for exclusivity.”
“If Row’s a player, his game is hard to get.” Dylan snorted. “And he’s really good at it. Don’t believe what all the tabloids say. He isn’t much of a manwhore.”
“So you wouldn’t be mad if we…?” I left the rest hanging.
Dylan stood up, waltzing over to the bathroom and returning with a damp, warm cloth, scrubbing away at her mask. Seeing her in a bikini was jarring. She looked like a pregnant supermodel. “Nope. Cross my heart and hope Tuck dies—I promise I’ll be totally okay with that.”
“Why?” My nose twitched.
“I love you both and I want to see you happy.”
“Can your brother really ever be happy?” I asked, thinking about everything Row had been through.
“I don’t know.” Dylan gnawed on her lower lip. “But if anyone can make him happy, it’s you.”
“Well…banana gives me heartburn.” I pursed my lips.
Dylan tipped her head back and laughed. “Just as long as it doesn’t give you heartbreak.”
CAL
Cal: Hi.
Row: Hey.
Cal: Can I show you something?
Row: Is that something going to end up in my spank bank or with me bailing both of us out of jail?
Row: Either way the answer is yes, I just like to be prepared.
