Page 88 of In at the Deep End

“What was the point of being self-conscious? Nobody else was. Besides, Ben looked at me, shrugged, and said, ‘Well, you can either spend the next two weeks feeling overdressed or get over yourself.’”

“And?”

Owen smiled. “I got over myself.”

“Just like that?” Matt shook his head in amazement. “I can’t imagine doing that.”

“At the time, I couldn’t either. Turns out it takes about five minutes.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “You suddenly realise everybody is shaped differently, everyone’s busy getting on with their holiday, and nobody is paying the slightest attention to you.”

Matt considered that. “So that’s why…”

Owen frowned. “Why what?”

A flush crept up Matt’s neck, reaching his cheeks. “You didn’t seem bothered when I turned up by the pool.”

Realisation dawned. “Oh.” He smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Yeah, I was the one who was embarrassed.”

Owen couldn’t resist. “I noticed.”

Matt covered his face with his hand. “You had to remind me, didn’t you?”

“Absolutely. And I think I’ll keep on reminding you.”

He groaned. “I knew there’d be a catch to working for you.”

Owen laughed, then took another drink. “The second evening we shared a table with two lovely blokes called Adam and Gray. Adam was British, Gray from the US. We assumed they were a couple, and they were great company. You know, your average, normal gay couple. Funny, intelligent… We talked about restaurants, sightseeing, everything, really—except what they did for a living.” He paused. “The next morning Ben suggested we walk around the grounds before breakfast.” He paused. “We rounded one corner, and found a couple of guys acting in a… very energetic manner.”

Matt’s eyebrows shot up again. “They were…?”

“Oh yes. And on a lounger, no less. What made it even more interesting was that Gray was standing at the arse end of the guy topping, holding what looked like a reflector, and Adam was filming the whole process. In fact, he lay on his back, aiming his camera up at… well, you get the picture.”

Matt burst out laughing. “No!”

“Oh yes. We froze. They froze. Then Adam stopped filming, smiled brightly, and said, ‘Morning, boys!’”

Matt was laughing too hard to speak. When he finally got control of himself, he managed to get out, “What did Ben do?”

“He whispered, ‘I think we’ve taken a wrong turning,’ spun round…” Owen demonstrated the manoeuvre with his hand. “…and walked straight into a palm tree.”

Matt laughed so loudly the occupants of two nearby tables glanced over before smiling to themselves. “Was he all right?”

“He had a lump on his forehead the size of a golf ball.”

Matt almost choked on his daiquiri. “You’re making that up.”

“I promise you I’m not.”

“And after that?”

Owen grinned. “We became extremely careful about wandering off the marked paths.” When they both stopped laughing, he smiled. “The really funny thing? I ran into them just after I moved to Winchester. Turns out they moved to the UK, they’re living in Andover, they’re married—but that feels like a story in itself—and they’re still shooting porn.” He gazed at Matt. “And you’ll get to meet them. I’ve invited them to the party.”

Matt’s breathing hitched. “Which party?”