"What's RJ's?" Julian asked.
"An indoor climbing place," Sophie supplied, giggling. "Funnily enough, it used to be their thing—as brothers. But at some point, Ash stopped going."
"To hell with all of you," Asher said. "I do cardio."
"Once a month," Brooklyn mouthed behind her hand.
"And work is busy," Ash went on. "Hundreds of scripts go through my office every week. It's not easy being a producer."
"Yeah, I bet you cry in your Lexus all the way home to your mansion, beautiful wife, and two daughters every day," Daniel deadpanned.
"Maybe that’s it. Do you turn to food for comfort?" Tennyson asked with a smirk. "The pizza cannot hug you back."
That one cracked me up, but the women decided we'd been mean long enough now.
"I could use some cake," Asher grumbled.
I sat back and pinched my lips together, and it looked like Tennyson and Daniel were struggling to hold back their mirth, too. But we let it go eventually, and I was the next one to be roasted.
Champagne and cake came out, and Sophie placed the gigantic, chocolaty goodness at the head of the table where Julian sat. I was next to him, and I had to say the cake made my dormant sweet tooth ache. I didn't indulge very often 'cause, frankly, I didn't want to, but damn.
Meanwhile, Sophie, Lucia, and Brooklyn imitated me and how I—apparently—came off as a director. Julian had a fucking blast at that. He could barely stop laughing to blow out the candles after Brooklyn delivered her impersonation.
Leaning close, I patted his thigh under the table. "Easy there, kid. Don't forget to breathe."
"I'm trying," he wheezed out.
God, he was fucking beautiful. All carefree and enjoying himself.
His fingers brushed over my hand on his leg, and I had the strongest urge to just hold his hand.
"He's the worst with the lighting," Sophie said. "Admit it, Collins. You're a lighting snob." I shrugged and reluctantly gave her my attention, and she cleared her throat and did her best to pull off a gruff, manly voice. "The fuck you doin'? I told you I want floodlight! More floodlight! No, scratch that. Give me a forty-degree Rembrandt and Van fuckin' Gogh and-and-and put a meat ax on that goddamn lens!"
While the ladies guffawed, those of us who actually worked with lighting and directing—and generally knew what we were talking about—shook our heads.
"You just spoke complete gibberish, princess," Tennyson chuckled. "There are no degrees to a Rembrandt."
Sophie waved a hand.
"What's Van Gogh lighting?" I asked.
"Beats me." Shawn grinned and shoveled some cake into his mouth. "Either way, I think Noah's the most easygoing director I've worked with."
"Pardon me?" Tennyson cocked a brow. "You've worked with me, you know."
Most of us laughed, and Shawn smirked and said, "I remember."
Sophie reached over the table and pinched Tennyson's cheek. "God knows I love you, but laid-back you are not. On set, anyway."
"Or very humble," Asher huffed.
Tennyson smiled sarcastically. "I see, so it's my turn now?"
"A director shouldn’t be humble while the camera's on," I said.
Tennyson and I bumped fists.
The mockery continued, though an unspoken rule prevented us from grilling the ladies. We did that when we were alone, 'cause…we weren't stupid.
Of course, riling each other up brought out our competitive streaks, and once we'd let the food settle a while, some of us headed to the pool. We had a score to settle, so Brooklyn picked a game for us.
She placed a towel on each short-end of the pool and picked up the volleyball. It was me, Tennyson, and Daniel against Julian, Sophie, and Zane.
Or… "The old against the young and gorgeous," Brooklyn said with a wink.
Considering Brooklyn was my age, we men only exchanged a look.
"Shut the fuck up," Brooklyn snapped.
I held up my palms.
"We didn't say anything," Tennyson said.
"You were thinking it," she retorted. She fluffed her hair and continued. "Anyway, pretend the towels are baskets. All you gotta do is touch your team's towel with the ball."
All right.
"Take it easy, love," Zane cautioned Daniel. "I don't want you to pull anything."
"Oooh, shots fired." I dove into the water, the rest following, and it was easy to see which tactics most were going with.
Sophie adjusted her bikini in a way that had Tennyson fucked in the head, so I snapped my fingers in front of his face.
"Seriously?" I shook my head at him.
Zane was doing something similar, showing off his modeling skills, abs, and that ridiculous pose when someone came up from the water and pushed back their hair.
Danny, Danny, Danny.
Turning to Julian, I…fuck. Jesus fuck, game time, no losing focus. I refused to be that guy. But yeah, he looked good. He looked ready to fight dirty. There was a gleam in his eyes, which I noticed after averting my gaze from his tight swimmer's body, ink, and piercing.
Head in the game.
I flashed him a cocky grin and folded my arms over my chest, making sure to flex my biceps. "You know you can't win, right?"