I give him the pound. “I was fun. You were just trying to get naked all the time.”
“That’s fair. Thank God that was before we had cameras on our phones. Otherwise—”
“That junk you wanted to show off so badly would be all over the internet?” I arch a brow, even as I bite back more laughter. “Stop pretending you wouldn’t love that.”
“Hey. When you got it—”
“You should keep it in your pants when you’re in public. Just like everyone else.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?”
“Fun died the day you got us banned from the best damn nightclub in South Carolina. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you for that.”
Beau brings his first three fingers to his lips. He kisses them, then holds them up to the night sky in a mock Katniss salute. “RIP, Dutch Galleon. You are missed.”
“The waitresses dressed like wenches.” I look up at the sky. I’m smiling so hard my face hurts. “The creepy pirate skeletons in the bathrooms. Missed indeed. By the way, we should totally do a re-read of The Hunger Games.”
Beau nods. “I really enjoyed the YA phase of Word Porn. With the notable exception of Twilight. Loved Harry Potter, though.”
“What would Hermoine do if she had PPD?”
“Use a spell to cure it, obviously. Then she’d hit up the Dutch Galleon to dance and smoke menthols to celebrate.”
I laugh. “Obviously.”
A beat of companionable silence passes between us. I can tell he’s revisiting that trip in all its wildness, same as I am. He’s wearing that wistful expression I know so well, the smile more in his eyes than on his lips.
I burrow into my chair. The warmth from the fire, coupled with the warmth of being with Beau, is making me feel all fuzzy inside.
“Good times,” Beau says at last, sipping his drink.
“Seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it does. Although sometimes I catch myself thinking I’m still twenty-two. Probably because I’m not one hundred percent sure I’m capable of doing this adult thing.”
I nod. “I know the feeling. Beau, I have a baby.”
He turns his head to look at me. “How wild is that?”
“Insane. It’s like the world’s worst joke, giving me a tiny human being to keep alive.”
“Some days I can barely keep myself alive.”
“I know, right?” I look down at my lap. “You ever think we’ll have fun like that again? The way we did back then? Maybe when we’re sixty-five and retired, we’ll get our second wind. Move onto a cruise ship or something and live our best lives gambling, drinking, and—”
“Getting naked? Because by then I’ll finally have rubbed off on you?”
“Sure,” I say, laughing. “There just so happens to be a lot of handsome sailors on this cruise ship, so yeah. Nudity and casual cougar sex for the win.”
“Hey.” Beau pulls back. “What about handsome fellow passengers? Don’t you want to have casual cougar sex with them, too?”
“Only if they have dick piercings intact. I’d like to think I’ll be experimental in my old age and craving novelty.”
Beau sticks out his bottom lip. “No cruise ship for me then.”
“I’m just kidding.” I reach over and grab his arm. “You know you’ll always be my partner in crime, right? Especially when we get old. Retirement cruises are probably way more fun with an exhibitionist sidekick, right?”
The laughter in his eyes fades. It’s extinguished altogether in a matter of heartbeats and replaced by that very deep, very real hunger.
Beau’s forehead is furrowed and his mouth is a straight line. I get the feeling he’s fighting something. Holding something in.
“Right,” he says at last.
The reply is soft and rough all at once. Tender words that are said in a voice like gravel.
Is it wrong that I like this new intensity? Lately, I feel like the world’s seen right through me. Right past me, more like it, to the baby in my arms.
But Beau’s eyes lock on my face and stay there. Almost voracious in their steadiness. He sees me. The person. The woman with dreams and needs and a brain and red blood.
Being the sole focus of my friend, a person who’s never been shy about how much he adores me as a human being, makes me feel funnier and stronger and more okay than I have in ages.
Makes me feel like I’m finally headed back to myself.
It’s wonderful in a way I can’t quite describe. And maybe a little…arousing, too, judging by the way another shiver darts up my spine.
Beau blinks, forehead smoothing. “You cold?”
“I’ll be oka—”
“Jimmy?” he calls, and a man immediately appears at this elbow.
“Sir?”
“Please get Miss Rhodes a blanket.”
“On it, sir.”
I grin. “Now you’re just showing off.”
“Damn right I am. Wouldn’t you if you had two hundred staff at your beck and call?”
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
James returns with a blanket, which Beau stands up and takes. He drapes it across my legs. Our arms brush as he moves, our faces close for one heartbeat, then another.