I did. Nova was laughing at Rigby as he gently moved Huey through the water on one of those little infant rings. Huey was loving it, his hands splashing in the water. And every now and then, when Rigby wasn’t watching, she looked at him with hunger in her eyes.

Okay, so we probably wouldn’t be forcing her. Problem was, I’d seen River look at her with that exact same hunger earlier. “Okay. And when shit goes wrong? What, we kick her and Huey out? Or do we kick out Rigby?”

He shook his head. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You know Rigby. He’s not going to do anything to hurt her.”

“But will she hurt him?” I loved that fucking kid. I wasn’t going to set him up for heartache.

“It was his idea, dickhead. He’s not doing anything he doesn’t want to do.”

I sighed. This had so much potential to blow the fuck up in our faces. “What if she wants you too?” He scoffed, and I punched him in the arm. “I mean it, man. You don’t see the way she checks out your ass when you walk away. It’s like your hockey ass is a magnet and her eyeballs are pure metal.”

“You’re a dick,” he grumbled, walking away, but I saw how he watched her. He peeled off his shirt, and Nova’s eyes immediately made their way to him. Fucking athletes. Going out with Rigby and River to a club had always been a lesson in humility.

Rigby commanded a room, but River… He could walk in and everyone would turn to look. He didn’t like being the center of attention, but always was anyway. He just had that brooding presence, on top of the looks, that made women swoon.

For a long time, I’d been happy getting their cast-offs, because I never wanted anything serious. Still didn’t. But if I did, I’d want someone who looked at me the way Nova was looking at River right now.

My eyes slipped to Rigby, who was watching Nova gape with a smug, amused expression, not a hint of jealousy. I didn’t understand it. People were fucking hard.

I just needed to get laid.

As if he felt my eyes on him, Rigby turned in my direction. “Why don’t you get in the pool too, Dev?”

“Can’t,” I yelled back. I pointed the tongs at the nearly done steaks.

“Can’t or won’t?” he called back, and I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the pool.

I met his eyes. “What’s the difference? The result is the same.”