Chapter 47

“It’s Trey now.” The hands holding Greg’s have grown warm but don’t relax in the slightest. Instead, Trey covers Greg’s thumb with one palm, encasing his hand completely. Greg is very aware of the heat generated between them, and the faint touch of Trey’s fingers where they rest along his wrist. “God, it’s good to see you. How the hell have you been?”

With a self-conscious shrug, Greg murmurs, “Oh, fine.” Then, before he can stop himself, he gushes, “You look amazing.”

Trey laughs. “You’re one to talk! They say some things only get better with age.”

A thin blush rises in Greg’s cheeks, heating his face. Four years apart in age, Junior had always followed Greg around, toting a kid’s set of golf clubs as he trailed behind Greg, who carried Mr. Johns’ bag. While his father played a hole, Junior would set up his own tee nearby and swing voraciously. “Watch me, Greg,” he’d cry out, interrupting the other golfers’ concentration. “Greg, watch this! Watch!”