"Yeah." I slide my arm around Iris's waist. Fuck, I'm being an obnoxious caveman about protecting my woman and she isn't even mine.
She leans in a little closer. "You look good, Dean." She unpeels her arms from her chest and offers him her sunscreen. "You need some of this?"
"Yeah. Sure. Toss it over," he says.
She does. It lands three feet to his left.
Iris laughs. "Sorry. No hand-eye coordination."
"It's cool." He bends to pick it up. Undoes the cap. Squeezes it into his hand. "Fuck knows there's shit I'm not good at."
"A long list," Brendon agrees.
Dean moves onto the trail, spreading sunscreen as he walks. He's making a show of it. It's the kind of thing he does when women are around. Look at my bod.
But he knows Iris and I have an arrangement.
It must be a habit.
It better be a habit.
"It's fucking hot." Dean tosses the sunscreen back to Iris.
I step forward to catch it.
"Thanks." She slides it into her backpack. "Is it always this hot in the spring?"
"You're not from SoCal?" he asks.
"The valley. You pretty much always feel like you're standing under a heat lamp." She moves closer. "Who was the girl in the cardigan?"
"Brendon's girlfriend," Dean says. "She had to work. Too bad. We're all one big, happy family."
"Right." Brendon shakes his head what the hell is wrong with you?
I ignore it. Take Iris's hand. Focus on the scenery.
It's always beautiful here. Lemon sun. Bright blue sky. Sandy beige path surrounded by dusty green brush. The hills go forever.
Brendon moves ahead of us. He's not interested in our bullshit.
He never is.
Dean follows his lead. Picks up the pace.
I hang back with Iris. There's only a dozen feet between us, but it's intentional. It's a fuck you.
"He has to give Brendon shit about Kay." Okay, he's being an asshole. But that's not her problem.
"Hmm."
I rub her hand with my thumb. "It was a whole fucked-up thing."
"Yeah?" Her voice perks.
"You like gossip?"
"Who doesn't?"