Unfortunately, the elevators are in the lobby. Also in the lobby? Trevor. The groom-to-be catches sight of us as we’re skirting the front desk and breaks into a smile.

I slip my hand away from Will’s and ease a little farther apart as Trevor ambles over.

“There you are!” Trevor says. Based on his buoyant attitude, I’d guess he’s had more than one glass of wine this evening. He sweeps his arm in the direction of the bar. “Let’s go, let’s go. We’re already two rounds into the nightcaps.”

“Well, I—” I start, but he’s already draped an arm around Will and is hustling us towards the bar.

Damn.

Will catches my eye and grimaces, but what can we do? Short of telling Trevor, “Sorry to blow off your wedding celebrations, but we need to go screw our brains out,” we’re stuck following him to meet the rest of the wedding party. The shots lined up in front of the five of them glimmer bright yellow in the glasses. We get there just as they toss back the vibrant liquid. Lulu lets out a squeal. Maggie smacks down her glass with a flourish. Brooke shudders, but she’s giggling too.

“The gang’s all here!” Brad says when he sees us.

“Ruby!” Brooke cries. “There’s a pool table in one of the back rooms. You never told us.” She glowers playfully at Will.

He holds up his hands. “It doesn’t get much use in good weather.”

My bestie hops off her stool. “That’s no excuse. Come on, Ruby—we should play.”

When we were in high school, we used to smack around the balls once a week in the pub we’d sneak into. The bartenders tolerated our presence and obviously fake IDs as long as we stuck to ordering virgin drinks.

“Hey, the two of you don’t get to have all the fun,” Maggie says. “We can play teams.” She cocks her head. “Guys vs. gals?”

Brad’s brow knits. “Would that really be fair?” he asks, sounding totally earnest. Oh dear.

Maggie cackles. “Okay, just for that, we’re definitely making it a battle of the sexes. Who’s in?”

“I don’t know,” Lulu yawns, but then her face brightens. “Unless we make it interesting.”

“What are you thinking?” Colin asks, leaning closer. Lulu looks through her eyelashes at him, and I wonder if she’s finally hooked her own fling for the week.

“Why play pool when you can play strip pool instead?” she says coyly. “You sink a ball, you get to pick one piece of clothing for someone on the other side to take off. You miss, you have to take something off. It spices things up a bit.”

Normally, I might balk at the idea of shedding clothes in company that includes my best friend’s hubby-to-be and a relative stranger. But all at once I can think of nothing I’d enjoy more than getting to watch Will strip down as a preview of the full feature I should be getting later tonight.

“I’m in,” I decide.

Will raises his eyebrows. I recognize the spark of challenge in his gaze. “Why not?”

“All right, let’s do it!” Brooke leads the way around the bar to the games room. “You know, I think the odds are kind of skewed against us ladies here. You guys all have shirts and pants and socks and we’ve just got dresses and shoes.”

“Sink enough balls and that won’t be a problem,” Trevor says, looping his arm around her waist.

“Brooke has a point,” Colin pipes up. “What if the guys’ side started with shoes off?”

“If we count bracelets and necklaces as clothes, then you’ve got a deal,” Maggie says.

The room turns out to hold not just a pool table but air hockey, foosball, and a few retro arcade machines as well. I might have to swing by and give that vintage Asteroids unit a shot before my stay here is over. Brad flips a coin, and we determine it’ll be boys first. Colin grabs a stick and breaks the rack. His hand wobbles a bit, and I realize I’ve got a bit of an advantage having missed those earlier rounds of booze. But he sinks one solid with a little shout of victory. Then he scans the four of us ladies, looking uncertain. His ears have pinked. It’s kind of adorable.

“Um, Ruby, bracelet,” he says.

You can’t get much tamer than that. I shrug, unclasp my garnet-studded silver chain, and drape it on my purse. Brooke grabs the other stick.

“Let’s do this,” she says, with a confidence she doesn’t end up earning. Her shot goes wide. The striped ball she was aiming at bounces off the corner of the hole. She makes a face and kicks off one of her flats.

I amble around the table as Brad sets up, as if I’m surveying it from different angles. My real goal is to pass behind Will and surreptitiously trail my pinky across the small of his back. His muscles flex. He manages to score a quick pat of my ass before I meander on.

Be still my panties.

Brad sinks another solid. “Maggie, dress,” he says with a wolfish grin.

Maggie rolls her eyes and peels off her indigo wrap dress . . . to reveal a slip underneath that covers almost as much skin. She smirks back at Brad.

“Give me that.” I grab the stick and pick up the chalk. I do a careful job rubbing it over the tip, sucking in my lower lip as I do. Porny, yes. Effective? Also yes. When I’m done, I give the wooden rod a stroke across its length for good measure. I can feel Will’s eyes glued to me, practically burning holes in my skin. Skin he is not going to get to see quite yet.

“Twelve, corner pocket,” I say, pointing. Then in one smooth movement, I line up and sink it. I can’t help a satisfied grin as I straighten up. I haven’t played much in the last few years, but apparently I’ve still got it.

Then I realize I need to make a different sort of call. My gaze slides over to the guys. I was so looking forward to tormenting Will . . . but it’s going to be way too obvious if I completely fixate on him, isn’t it? I’ve got to throw everyone else off the scent first.

Colin was kind to me. “Colin, sock,” I say.

Lulu groans. “No one here is any fun!”

Trevor lands his shot and Brooke ends up totally barefoot. Then Lulu marches up to the table and sinks another ball with an efficiency I hadn’t expected. She folds her arms over her chest, her eyelids low as she considers her options.

“Will, shirt,” she says.

Now we’re talking. Will chuckles as he untucks the button-up from his slacks. He undoes the first couple buttons at a leisurely pace I somehow find unbearable, watching that triangle of muscled flesh gradually widen, even though I saw him stripped down to his swim trunks just this afternoon. Then he yanks the whole thing off over his head, which leaves his hair disarmingly rumpled. And that sculpted chest looks just as magnificent as it did on the boat.

Mama likey.

Our eyes meet for a second, and I twitch an eyebrow upward. Will smirks, with enough heat to melt a dilithium crystal. Oh, right. He’s up next.

I let my gaze linger on the tensing of his muscles as he leans over the table. The stick smacks the cue ball right into two nestled solids—and they go careening off into separate pockets. Shit. You can’t criticize the guy’s aim, that’s for sure.

Will raises his head. I know before he opens his mouth that he isn’t planning on being shy.

“Ruby, dress.”

I wonder if anyone else can feel how the scorching heat he brought to those two words. I flick my hair back all nonchalant and untie the halter straps. Then I shimmy out of the dress with just enough care to leave him hanging a moment here and there.

I’m not wearing a slip. The warm air tickles over my body, naked except my strapless bra, panties, and sandals. Thank God I didn’t go with a thong. Trevor politely schools his gaze elsewhere. Brad lets out an approving whistle. Will just nods, but he hasn’t glanced away for a second.

Maggie hefts the stick for her second go, and Will backs up to give her room to pass by. I sidle over to him. Everyone else is focused on the game, at least for this moment.

“You know,” I murmur, with a tap of my elbow that’s really more of a caress, “you sank two. I’m pretty sure you could have gotten away with more than the dress.”

He grins. “Maybe. But the rest of what you’re wearing, I plan on being the one to take it off. Preferably as soon as possible, without an audience.”

Oh dear Lord, make it so.

Will steps around me, grazing my bare shoulders with the back of his hand. An electric shiver runs through me. It takes every ounce of self control I’ve got in me not to drag him out of the room and fuck him right there in the hall.

Lulu ambles over. “It’s your turn, Ruby, unless you’re skipping it.”

Oh, crap, I forgot to even pay attention. Trevor has been relieved of his shirt, which judging by Brooke’s grin is thanks to her.

“No, definitely not,” I say. I heft the stick and scan the table. Oh yes, there we go. Ready, aim, fire. Thunk goes the ball into the pocket.

“Will,” I say without looking behind me, “pants.”

* * *

The game ends one round later with me sinking the eight ball. “Let’s even things out,” I say, graciously. “Brad, join the ranks of the shirtless.”

Brooke rubs her eyes, looking tired enough for me to hope that we’re finally putting an end to group activities for the day. I peek at Will, who’s leaning casually against the wall in his boxers and socks and nothing else. That itch really needs scratching now. I’ve been simmering on the verge of boiling over for the last ten minutes.

But Lulu, still in a slip and everything beneath, sets her hands on her hips. “I think we’ve got enough on for another game.” Brooke and Maggie assemble at her side with what looks like resignation.

Hell, no. I am drawing the line right here.

I stretch my arms over my head in a pose I’m sure gives Will plenty to stoke his fire while I yawn dramatically. “You know, I am beat. I won that first game for women everywhere. You’ll have to excuse me—I’m turning in for the night now.”

Lulu makes a disappointed noise, but Brooke says, “Of course, of course. Don’t wear yourself out!” with a smile that’s a little too knowing. I glower at her for a second before I pull my dress back on.

“Have fun!” I call out to everyone as I hurry for the door.

As soon as I’m out of view, I fish my phone out of my purse. Get yourself to my room ASAP, I text to Will. Clothing optional.

I’ve just reached my door when my alert goes off. On my way.

It’s happening. It’s happening now. After what’s essentially been four days of foreplay, I can’t imagine being more ready.

Inside the room, I discard my clothes so fast you’d think they literally were on fire. Then I sprawl out on the bed, arranging my limbs and rearranging them as I try to decide what makes the most tempting pose. My pulse skitters in my chest.

It’s just Will, I remind myself. He’s just a guy. The guy I’ve been lusting after since college, sure, but still. No man is that different when faced with a naked woman laying in eager wait.

Just as my arm is starting to cramp from holding my torso at just the right angle, voices carry from the hall outside my door.

“Will! Are you looking for Trevor and the others? The last I heard they were headed for the bar.”

It’s Mrs. Tanner. And then Mr. Tanner. Right outside my room. “I’m glad we’re not cramping the younger generation’s style. You should have the best time you can without us old fogies around.”

Will must be standing farther away, because I can’t make out what he says in return, other than his tone sounds gracious. Their voices fade as, I guess, Brooke’s parents insist on accompanying him back to the elevators. I drop my head into my hand. Oh, fuck me now. Literally. Come on, already.

I slip off the bed and grab my bathrobe, wondering if there’s some way I can intervene. As I reach the door, someone knocks. I ease it open.

And there is Will, clothes back on but shirt still untucked and open at the neck, dark hair tousled.

Damn, but he’s hot. No other man has ever melted me with just one look.

“If one more person gets in the way of me fucking your brains out, I’m going to explode.”

I grab his shirt, pulling him into the room and yanking his mouth to mine.