God, he was so damn sexy. Even when the conversation swirled around stalkers and threats, he still somehow managed to cut through the fear and anxiety with a smoldering look.

“Ready to get wet?” he asked.

Tristan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Okay, you two need to stop. Not in front of Eric.”

“What? What did I do?” Eric asked, leaning over to look at Tristan with an arched brow.

“I just know you’re a little relationship deficient right now. I don’t want you to pass out or anything.”

That got a laugh out of us. “Being single is not the same as an iron deficiency,” Eric tried to clear up.

“Yeah, but for your dramatic ass, it might as well be,” Tristan shot back, standing up and taking his book with him up the stairs to his room.

Eric was left with his jaw on the floor, looking around at Jake, Yvette, and me. “Am I really—”

“Yes,” Yvette and I answered in unison. More laughter spread through the room as we cleared out to get ready for the hot tub portion of the evening. I needed this palate cleanser and felt myself getting excited at the idea of getting drunk in a hot tub overlooking the star-dusted mountains.

Being in the same room as a naked and changing Jake also made me excited but in an entirely different way.

* * *

Jake, Yvette, and Eric were the only ones who made it into the hot tub with me. Jess and Tia both decided to call it a night, and Tristan stayed in his room, likely sexting one of his many conquests. He was definitely the player of the group, constantly juggling three or four different guys with no sign of ever slowing down, no matter how many times we told him he deserved something serious and long-lasting.

Eric and I were the complete opposite, Eric even more monogamy-centered than I was. He rarely hooked up with guys unless he knew there was the prospect of a real relationship between him and the guy, having avoided most of the apps but not being able to avoid major heartbreaks.

We sat in the bubbling hot tub with beers and wine in hand, discussing Eric’s latest breakup. “I don’t know. I think I’m going to become a monk, live in a mountain somewhere. Maybe here. Are there monks in Blue Ridge?”

“There’ll be at least one.” Yvette chuckled, taking a sip of her wine before leaning back on the rim of the tub. The mountains opened up behind her, as if they were a rocky cape that draped off her shoulders. A bright and unobstructed full moon hung in the sky and gave a ghostly glow to the peaks and valleys.

“I think we can find you someone before you turn into a man of the cloth,” I said.

Jake cocked his head at me. “I think that’s the term for a priest, not a monk.”