I lean in to whisper and I explain the whole sordid story.
She nods and uh-huhs through every detail.
When I'm done, we're a hundred feet behind. Brendon and Dean are standing at the top of a hill. Brendon is looking out at the view. Dean is shaking his head too slow, huh?
"I guess we can't walk and whisper." She tugs at my arm as she moves faster.
I keep pace with her. This is a slow hike. More of a stroll. Usually, that annoys me. Usually, Dean and I get competitive about who can finish faster.
Right now, I like it.
I want to stop and smell the roses. Well, the ocean breeze and the brush.
Iris squeezes my hand as we catch up to the guys.
"Trading secrets?" Dean asks.
"Nothing big." Iris forces her lips into a smile.
"Uh-huh," Dean says.
"She, um, your girlfriend. She seemed nice." She turns to Brendon. "Does she work at the shop too?"
He shakes his head. "She hangs out sometimes." He motions to the trail shall we?
I nod and we resume the hike at an easy pace.
"Do you guys ever bring girls to the shop?" Iris asks.
"No." Brendon chuckles. "They stick to their bedrooms."
"Jealous?" Dean raises a brow.
"Yeah. I'd much rather fuck some woman I'm not gonna remember than one I love," Brendon says. "I'm seething."
"A lot of guys feel that way." Iris pulls her hand to her side. Moves forward. "Dean, you must."
"That an invitation?" He turns back to her to arch a brow. "Sorry, but I don't do threesomes anymore."
"Oh. You did once?" She tilts her head to one side, assessing his words.
"Had a phase." Dean turns back. "It's pretty simple. It's more fun to play the field. Easier."
She nods. "Yeah. I like it better too."
"Oh." His voice relaxes. "You and Walker aren't—"
"We're just having fun." She looks to me and arches a brow. Right?
I nod. Yeah. Of course. Fun. No getting hung up on the sadness behind her gorgeous blue eyes. Or what the hell she's really trying to get over. Or what her tattoo means.
She catches up to Dean. Walks in time with him. "Do you have a type?"
Brendon chuckles. "Anything with spread legs."
"Hey." He feigns offense. "Any woman with spread legs." He points to me. "Your boy isn't much more discriminating."
Iris makes eye contact. Really?