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swayed a bit under his feet. He found a large flowering tree to lean against, sucking down the rest of the drink while pink petals danced like snowflakes from the branches in a gust of spring breeze.
    A tall, well-built man with a dark blond military haircut approached him. He looked about thirty, handsome, with a small scar along his jawline. “Hey, holding up the tree?”
    Ben smiled, watching petals fall on the man’s broad shoulders. “I just needed a break.”
    He nodded. “I know what you mean, this is all a bit much.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Wayne.”
    Ben shook his hand. “Ben.”
    He pointed to Ben’s empty cup. “You want another drink?”
    Ben shrugged.
    “I’ll get you one. Stay here and make sure that tree doesn’t fall.”
    Ben smiled. “All right.”
    Wayne grinned over his shoulder as he walked away, and Ben admired his denim clad ass. Nice body. Nice face. Nice guy. Yet Ben still kept glancing over beyond the garden, at the first cabana. Where Dr. Coyle was. Probably balls deep in that blond piece of jailbait by now.
    What do you care?
    “I don’t,” Ben said aloud to himself. “I don’t care.”
    “You don’t care about what?”
    He turned to see Wayne standing in front of him, two full umbrella drinks in his big hands. He handed one to Ben, who immediately took a long, cooling sip. “Just talking to myself. Bad habit.”
    Wayne chuckled, and Ben focused on his very white teeth. His jaw was strong, with a thick corded neck. He was probably great in the sack...all those muscles. Perhaps he was aggressive, maybe as aggressive as—
    Who? Dr. Coyle? Get a grip, Ben.
    “So,” Wayne said, smiling shyly. “You come here often?”
    Ben laughed, thankful for the tree against his back. The liquor was having its way, white lights and colors swirling in the periphery, music and laughter a symphonic buzz. “Actually, this is my first time here. I’m not much of a party guy.”
    “Neither am I,” Wayne said. “I’m home on leave from the military. It’s, uh...difficult to be social for me, if you know what I mean.”
    “Ah,” Ben said. “Don’t ask. Don’t tell.”
    “Don’t get laid. For months at a time,” Wayne added with a grin.
    “I hear that,” Ben said. “But I don’t have the military as an excuse.”
    “What do you do?” Wayne asked, leaning against the tree with him, shoulders touching as they sipped their drinks.
    “I’m a student. Information Science. I go to Kelsingford. This is my last semester.” I hope , he thought gloomily.
    Wayne looked at him, raising his eyebrows. “You’re right. You have got no excuse. All those college boys? Why the dry spell?”
    Ben laughed, shrugging. “I’ve been busy.”
    “Hey, Wayne!”
    They both turned to see a muscular bald man waving over by the bar.
    “Hey, it’s Carlos!” Wayne beamed, waving back. “Could you excuse me a minute, Ben? I see an old friend I haven’t seen in a long time.”
    “Sure,” Ben said. “Go talk to him. I’ll stay here and guard the tree.”
    Wayne gently grasped Ben’s chin. “You’ve got amazing eyes, college boy. I’ll find you later.”
    Ben watched him walk away, greeting his friend at the bar with manly hugs and slaps on the back. He tried to feel betrayed at being left hanging, but he couldn’t seem to make himself care.
    Looking down, he was shocked to see he’d nearly finished his second cocktail. “Whoa.” He giggled. He felt good and numb, no longer self-conscious in this odd place. The air smelled fresh and clean with newly cut grass. Putting his drink on the ground, he looked up at the canopy of blossoming branches. “You finish that,” he told the tree. “My treat.”
    He wandered away from the party, unsteady legs leading him toward the line of festively lit cabanas. Just going for a walk. No motive here. Tra la la .
    A group of men entered one of the small cabins, laughing as they closed the door behind them. When Ben reached the cabanas, he rounded