Hey, my friend’s having a pool party this afternoon! You and S should come. The text from Poppy woke Ryan up. He groaned at the bright morning light that streamed through his windows. If ever there was a reason to buy curtains, this goddamned morning sun is it.

When he saw the text was from Poppy, any last traces of sleepiness vanished. I have nothing but free time, he wrote back. Will ask S.

Ryan called Sarah, though he’d much prefer to text. However, he was in that strange millennial category where actual phone calls threw women for a loop. It was an easy way to make yourself stand out.

“Seriously, P’s going to a party?” Sarah asked. “This sucks, I have to work today. But you should go. Send her my love.” As he hung up with Sarah, relief washed over him. Why was he happy the girl he was seeing couldn’t go?

Ryan thought he’d get there early at two o'clock when he drove up to the address Poppy had texted him, but there were already cars lined up the street. Is this for real? The music blasting from the backyard answered him when he was still three houses down. He couldn’t even find a sliver of space to park his bike closer, since the street was so packed.

It took him awhile to push his way through the crowded foyer and through the throngs of people smashed into the living room. The kitchen, the obvious place for a makeshift bar, seemed to be professionally staffed with bartenders whipping up frozen margaritas and daiquiris.

“You seen Poppy?” he asked a random girl in cutoff shorts.

“Who?” she screamed at him.

“Never mind.”

Finally, he spotted her poolside on a lounge chair. Is that Poppy? She was dressed, if it could be called that, in the tiniest white bikini he’d ever seen with just a few strings holding the fabric together. From the other side of the pool, he had to admit—she looked pretty damn hot.

Funny, I’ve never noticed her like that before. Poppy had always been just his best friend. Sure, he’d considered it before, just like he did with every girl he’d known. But in the past, the idea of Poppy, well, it just kind of grossed him out. But today was different.

He tried to shake it off as he made his way through the crowd toward her. “This party’s poppin’, Poppy,” he said as he sat down by her legs.

She groaned. “That’s terrible.”

“That’s my specialty.”

She sat up with a smile, and when she did he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her tits. The almost nonexistent bits of material covered her areolas, just barely, and not well. Even though the suit was dry, he could make out the shape of her nipples. Thank God I’m sitting down. It would be really hard to hide this awkward erection. “Where’s Sarah?” she asked.

“Couldn’t make it. Working,” he said.

“That’s too bad,” she said, and made a face.

He shrugged. “We’re taking things really slow, anyway. It’s probably good to not see each other for a couple days. Besides, now you and I have time to catch up.”

“Catch up?”

“Yeah. You know, on what I’ve missed since I was last here. How’s school?” he asked. Stop looking at her tits. Stop looking at her tits. She shifted in her seat and leaned down to get a bottle of water. The weight of her breasts shifting mesmerized him.

“Not school anymore, really. I’m an intern now. I get to be on the floor with patients, getting my hands dirty.”

“You still interested in pediatrics?”

“Totally. I’m actually interested in pediatric endocrinology, which is a fancy way of saying that I want to help kids who discover they have diabetes or problems with growth or puberty.”

“Isn’t that kind of depressing?”

“I don’t think so. Kids are so resilient; even the sickest kids bounce back so fast, and they’re so hopeful. It’s kind of great. Maybe not the best party talk, though.”

“Yeah,” he said. “How are your parents, by the way? It’s kind of a trip being here after all this time.”

Poppy bit her lip and shook her head. “My dad is supposedly sober, but it’s not the first time Mom’s said that. Though she’s ever hopeful! I don’t know, I don’t talk to them much. How’s your family doing?”

“You probably know as well as I do! Ever since Eli became POTUS, well, most of them are busy being plastered all over the news.”

“So crazy,” Poppy said as she took a sip of water. “President at thirty-five freaking years old.”

“But they’re good,” he said. “Him and Mer are good. And, actually I can’t believe I haven’t told you this, Ellie actually settled down.”

“Yeah? Wait, with that jerk guy the media caught hooking up with some other girl in a bar bathroom or something?”

“No, no—one of Eli’s friends. Henry. I don’t know if you ever met him.”

“Whoa, age gap,” Poppy said.

“They seem to work,” he said with a shrug. “He's even moving with her cross-country so she can go to vet school in California.”

Poppy laughed. “I always knew Ellie was headed for big things.”

Her grin was enough to make Ryan smile.

“Hey,” she said, “how about we get a drink and get in the pool?”

In the kitchen, she asked the bartender for two piña coladas.

“What?” the bartender yelled over the music.

Poppy plugged the request into her phone and held it up. The bartender nodded, then a few minutes later handed them the colorful drinks. “Extra strong,” Poppy said with a wink.

The water was warmer than he expected. “Why isn’t anyone else in the water?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I’m not complaining.”

He wasn’t sure where the time went. Almost nobody else ventured into the pool—the women too afraid of messing up their hair, and the guys uninterested since it seemed there was just Ryan and Poppy, who swam in slow circles.

“Another round?” The bartender appeared poolside.

“Another?” Poppy asked Ryan with a raised brow.

“That’ll be our third,” he said.

“Fourth,” the bartender said.

“Why not?” Poppy said. “It’s a party.”

“Speaking of,” Ryan said, “how do you know all these people?”

“I don’t!” she said with a laugh as the bartender handed them more cocktails. “I don’t know, word of mouth happened, blah blah blah. You know how it goes. Plus, I like pools,” she said. “If my parents had owned one, it probably would have helped boost me up the high school hierarchy.”

“Poppy—”

“I’m serious! And I’m not upset. I mean, I know it’s because you kind of pulled me along with you back then. I’m sorry if I held you back.”

“Held me back?”

“You know… with girls and stuff. I wasn’t exactly the life of the party.”

“You were fine, Pops. You were perfect.” That had to be the drinks talking. “Oh man, how far we’ve come,” he said, eager to change the subject. “Can you believe Eli’s president now?”

“That’s so insane,” she said with a laugh. “I always thought Eli was a geek until I saw him a few years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

Poppy turned red. “I mean… Eli got attractive, you know? He’s not my type, but—”

“There’s just something about Scott men, huh?”

Poppy’s blushing deepened to a near purple. Ryan couldn’t help it. She’s fucking cute. Okay, maybe I’m buzzed. Drunk even. It’s not a big deal.

“Hey, help me with sunscreen?” she asked suddenly. “I have this patient with melanoma. Just fourteen years old. Now I’m terrified of skin cancer.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said.

As Poppy ascended the stairs, he couldn’t move. Her bathing suit was almost transparent. He saw the line of her ass, and when she turned it was like she was wearing nothing. Stay right where you are. This isn’t a good idea.

“Are you coming?” she asked.

“I don’t know, it’s really nice in here. Can’t you—”

“Ryan, seriously. I can’t do my back!”

“Okay, okay,” he said. He sat beside her as she worked the lotion up her legs, her tight stomach, and across her chest.

“Do me now?” she asked. Christ, don’t you hear yourself? Poppy turned onto her stomach on the lounge chair, and Ryan got to work brusquely.

“Ow, a little more gentle. Please?” she said.

He worked his way quickly from her neck and fumbled a bit with the string at her back—careful to avoid the sides of her breasts. As he moved down her back, he traced his fingers over those two dimples at the crest of her ass. He slid to the flanks of her hips. Was that a shiver?

Poppy sighed, and turned one cheek to the towel below her face. What would it be like? Just once—to kiss those lush lips?

Ryan stood up to move down to her calves, and Poppy looked up. Their eyes locked, and there was something in her emerald gaze. His eyes moved, seemingly of their own accord, to her lips and she licked them. Ryan sat back down and leaned toward her. As he closed his eyes, he saw her own flutter shut.

“I think I drank too much,” she whispered and jolted up.

You are a fucking idiot. Obviously they were both drunk, and Poppy wasn’t sending him any signals. “I, uh, I’m sorry?” he stammered at her.

“It’s fine! Really. Just… silly,” she said. He watched the fake, happy host façade take over and Poppy started chattering away with people nearby.

“You okay?” he asked her after half an hour. She was fully committed to ignoring him.

“Yeah! Actually, my Uber’s here,” she said as she packed up her things.

“Oh! I could have taken you—”

“I’m good,” she said, and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks for coming.”

You are a totally jackass, he thought as he watched her weave her way into the house.