“I’ve seen Billy Boy naked. Everyone’s seen everyone, ‘cept me and you.” His towel hit the grass. “There. Anticipation over. “ Erika turned her head into Billy’s neck. “Damn, you yanks are uptight.”
Tom Alan looked as tense as anyone.
“I’ve never seen Tom.”
“I think that’s a hint, Skater Boy. Show Hockey Puck your naughty bits. They do all rather look alike.”
“Not really,” Billy muttered, his eyes on Milo’s.
“Would it be less of a big deal if we went and stood in front of the window and shagged?” Milo got in and reached for Tom Alan’s hand. “Grab an ale and join us.”
“It’s beer.” Tom Alan dropped the towel—with his back turned. He kept it that way until he was under the water.
“Whatever.”
“What are you fighting about?” Erika asked.
“The current topic would be beverage ingredients, apparently,” Milo said with an edge.
“We’re not fighting.” Tom Alan passed a can of whatever it was, then opened one of his own. “Let’s just enjoy the water for the last time this season.”