CJ hated to be managed. Gavin knew this because he was the same. So if anyone in the world understood CJ’s current mood, it was Gavin. He stopped and stripped out of his shirt, then kicked off his boots.

CJ just shook his head. “Are you crazy? It’s February.”

“Yes and yes. It’s also still sixty degrees. We’ve done this in far colder weather.”

“This being . . . ?”

“Skinny-dipping.” Gavin smiled. “You telling me you don’t remember?”

CJ didn’t budge. He also kept his emotions close to the vest. Whatever he was thinking, he wasn’t about to share. “The last time we did this,” he finally said, “we were young and stupid. And high.”

Gavin laughed. “Come on, old man. Strip. Let’s see what you’re packing.”

“You already know. You’ve seen it all before, most recently the other night.”

Gavin had no idea why, when the guy was acting all buttoned up, that it totally turned him on. Clearly, he was mental. Proving it, he just smirked. “Some things bear repeating.” He unbuttoned his jeans.

CJ raised a brow.

A challenge. And Gavin Manning had done a lot of things, but he’d never backed down from a challenge, even when he should have. So he shoved his pants down and off, and then gestured for CJ to get on with it.

CJ took in the sight, which was more than slightly gratifying.

“Well?” Gavin asked. “Am I doing this alone?”

“You avoided my question.”

No shit. “Which one?” he asked innocently.

CJ just shook his head at him.

“Right. The whole ‘what are we doing’ thing.” Gavin decided not to press his luck. “Spending time together.”

“We already tried that when we were kids. It went spectacularly wrong.”

It had. And all of it had been Gavin’s fault. “Maybe I want to see if it could go spectacularly right this time.” He held his breath while trying to look cool and nonchalant—not easy when bare-assed naked, by the way.

Their gazes locked and held for a long beat. Gavin waited for another objection, but one didn’t come. Finally, CJ swore and muttered to himself, but tugged off both his shirts and tossed them aside.

Gavin smiled.

CJ rolled his eyes and lost the rest of his clothes, and Gavin blessed the moonlight that gave him a front-row view of the only body that had ever driven him crazy.

Beneath the moon, they stood on the tire swing together and catapulted themselves into the water. They raced, swimming their asses off to the rocks about a hundred yards out. They bodysurfed on the swells. They spent time, hours of it, just . . . being.

Later, much later, lying flat on their backs in the wild grass staring up at the stars, CJ reached for Gavin’s hand. “Thanks.”

Gavin turned on his side and propped his head up with a hand, smiling. “Anytime.”