The twins take the first match with little effort. Colby’s feet seem rooted in the sand—he feels like he’s standing on the sidelines, a gawkish teenager watching professionals play the sport. The sun glistens off sweat beading along Van’s tanned arms, and his hair looks impossibly blond in the light. Whenever he sees Colby looking, he puckers his lips in a kiss, or winks as he grins, anything to distract Colby.
It works.
Colby stares whenever he can, and more than once Megan backs into him, her heel grinding down hard on his toes to wake him up out of his stupor. When they switch sides for the next match, she pinches a hunk of flesh at Colby’s waist and twists, forcing him to pay attention to her. “We’re a team,” she hisses, releasing him. “If you want to watch, sit in the stands. Otherw
