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“Oh, good idea. I don’t want to get drunk.” Ryan chugs from the bottle, missing Sloane’s smirk. “Where did Kyle go, anyway?”
“Up there.” I point to the top of the giant red inflatable jungle gym. “That’s him and Katie, about to come down the slide.”
“They’re so high up.” Her face is scrunched. “Is that safe?”
“Relatively. The water’s deeper there. Still, I’ve seen a few injuries.” Sloane stoops to join us in watching them teeter at the top.
Ryan squints. “Is it me or is Katie naked?”
Sloane chuckles. “A white string bikini. Imagine that.”
“Did you notice, Ronan?” Ryan asks.
“Nope.”Yes, but I’ve seen Katie and Rachel naked so many times, it doesn’t faze me anymore.
“Wait. Of courseyou’ve noticed.” Ryan waves off my answer. “I forgot about you guys.”
“Forgot what?” Sloane reaches for her own bottled water.
Oh fuck. “Nothing?—”
“Every time those girls come to town, they end up in Ronan’s bed. Or my brother’s bed. Or all of them end uptogether.” Ryan’s hands splay overhead, her fingers clumsily intertwining, I assume to mimic a tangle of limbs.
Sloane chose the wrong moment to take a sip. Water sprays from her mouth, and then she’s choking on remnants that went down the wrong tube.
I take it back. Ryan isnotcute when she’s drunk. I climb over the bar to slap Sloane’s back, sparing a glare at my friend.
“What?” She shrugs. “I thought you guys were open about that stuff.”
Ryan knows damn well I don’t talk about my business, unlike Connor who broadcasts to anyone who will listen.
Sloane’s coughing fit finally subsides, allowing her to swing heated, accusatory eyes on me. “So, have you already fucked them this weekend or is that tonight’s plan after you’re finished with me?”
I stifle my groan.
“Oh.” Ryan presses a palm over her mouth. “Oh my God. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you two”—she draws her fingers horizontally between us in a sloppy line—“were a thing.”
“We’re notanything,” Sloane snaps, before taking a deep breath. “We’re not anything,” she repeats calmly.
Her words prick me unexpectedly. I don’t know if I’d gothat far.
Ryan offers me a pained expression as she mouths “I’m sorry.”
It’s not totally her fault, but I move her half-finished can of margarita out of reach, anyway. “I haven’t been with Katie or Rachel in over a year, and nothing will be happening with them tonight, regardless of who else I’m with.” Which issupposed to benobodybecause I’m staying away from women, and especially not Sloane, who I have—had—plans on fucking in that little registration hut the second my feet touch gravel.
Sorry, Belinda, the bus is racing forward andallmy extremities are hanging out the window, waiting for you to cut them off.
Sloane’s expression hasn’t softened with my assurances.
Ryan squirms in her seat, visibly uncomfortable with her gaffe. “For what it’s worth, Ronan doesn’t mess around when he’s with someone.Believeme,Iknow.” She reaches out to squeeze my hand in hers. “When we were together, he didn’t bring anyone home from the bar. Not once.”
I groan.Not helping.
Sloane’s jaw drops. “You slept withhertoo? With Connor’s sister?”
“Half sister,” Ryan corrects. “And it was only for, like, a week two summers ago, when we were all living together. My ex had just broken up with me and I was feeling so sorry for myself.”
A mixture of shock and horror twists Sloane’s features.