Page 24 of The Gaybor War

I bite back a laugh, even though I hate that I’m enjoying this. "Nice turnout."

He hums lazily, sounding pleased. "Better than last year. Nobody’s lit a grill in the cabana yet."

Around us, the noise crescendos. Kiki’s kids are playing some questionable poolside game involving half a pool noodle and a water gun. One of the moms shrieks when a beach ball flies into the snack table. Someone’s Bluetooth speaker switches from Toxic to Barbie Girl and the party collectively loses its mind.

Benji looks delighted. "Ah, the sound of suburbia."

"Sounds like a migraine."

"Sounds like fun, if you’d unclench a little."

Before I can answer, Kiki’s youngest lets out a squeal. I glance over—and immediately regret it.

The kid is waving something pink and rubbery through the air.

Benji nearly inhales his drink. "Oh my God, not again."

Kiki sees it and lunges off her chair. "NOPE."

Too late.

The thing bounces off the pool float, wobbling obscenely in the sunlight.

Candace shrieks. "Get it before it hits the filter!"

I stare in exhausted disbelief as three grown women dive into action. Beside me, Benji is fully crying with laughter.

"Isn't that Eunice's⁠—"

Benji lowers his glasses, watching the drama unfold with a smirk. "Yup."

I sink a little lower in my chair. "Your neighborhood is insane."

He shrugs. "It’s never boring."

I study him again. Sunlight catches in the water droplets on his shoulder. He laughs as the mayhem unfolds, head tilted, smile bright.

It hits me like an aftershock—he’s beautiful, and I hate that I think so.

Before I can think of something neutral to say, Candace’s husband lurches by, half-drunk and too enthusiastic about tossing a football.

"Heads up!" someone shouts.

I turn just in time for the ball to clip my shoulder. I flail, lose my balance, and topple backward into the pool. The world goes cold. Chlorine burns my nose. I resurface, sputtering and blinking through my hair.

Benji laughs so hard he folds in half, shoulders shaking.

"You think this is funny?" I bark.

He lifts his sunglasses, smirking down at me like sin itself. "Oh, absolutely. It’s the most fun I’ve had all week."

I want to snap something back, something scathing. But he lowers his glasses again and says, quietly, "You really should smile more. It doesn’t hurt that much."

It’s almost sincere. Almost. And for one dumb second, I do smile.

Then I dunk under again, just so he doesn’t see it.

I resurface, blinking through chlorinated water. My hair’s plastered to my forehead, my shirt’s clinging to my chest, and Benji is still laughing.