“You’re not fat, Sunny. You’re pregnant, and you’re gorgeous. We’ll borrow a bathing suit top from Violet. I’m sure hers will fit you better.”

I pat her back while she continues to cry. I have no idea if her nipples, which are very obvious through the bikini top, will ever go back to the way they were.

“What if I end up with stretch marks? Is it vain that I don’t want stretch marks? I miss my body. I miss normal sex. I miss being able to see my feet and my vagina.”

It’s an epic breakdown. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Sunny this upset, apart from when she and Miller were first dating and there were several unfortunate misunderstandings regarding pictures on social media.

I let her cry on me for another minute or two, and then Miller knocks on the door. “Sunny Sunshine? Can I do anything to help?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Sunny hiccups at the end.

“You don’t sound fine, sweets. Can you let me in? Please?”

“I don’t want him to see me like this,” Sunny whispers.

“Hasn’t he seen you in a lot less than this recently?” I whisper back.

Sunny frowns as she ponders this. “Well, yes.”

“So why are you worried about him seeing you in a bikini that’s too small?”

Sunny twirls her hair around her finger and rubs it over her lips. It’s what she does when she’s thinking, and sometimes when she’s nervous. She did it a lot when she and Miller were first dating and she wasn’t sure she could handle being with someone who had such a terrible reputation with women. He’s a reformed manwhore.

“I-I don’t know?”

“So I can open the door for him?”

“I-I guess.”

I flip the lock and open the door. Miller’s arm is stretched over his head, holding the jamb.

He looks at me, and then at Sunny. His eyes go wide as he takes her in with a low whistle. “Wow.” Miller raises his hands like he’s cupping her chest. “Your boobs.”

Sunny adjusts one of the cups; it doesn’t make her boobs any less booby. “The top’s too small.”

Miller clears his throat. “Yeah. Just a little.”

“I’ll get a spare from Violet.” I step around Miller, who’s still holding his hands up like he’s waiting for an oracle to drop into them. Or Sunny’s boobs.

I pad down the hall to Violet and Alex’s room and listen for a few seconds, crossing my fingers that they’re done banging each other. There are no sexy sounds coming from inside, so I knock and wait.

Violet opens the door. Her long hair is pulled up in a messy ponytail. She’s wearing a sheer, gauzy bathing suit cover-up over a red bikini. I’m immediately drawn to her cleavage. I can’t even imagine how big her boobs are going to be when Alex knocks her up. And I assume that will happen sooner rather than later since Sunny’s already started the trend and Alex likes to be first at everything.

“Hey! Wow. I didn’t expect to see you for at least another hour or two,” Violet says.

“We’re not that bad.”

She makes a face.

I don’t defend myself further. I suppose Randy and I are usually that bad. When we went to Vegas a few months ago, Randy insisted we get our own suite so we didn’t have to worry about getting called out on the amount of sex we have. If we still used condoms, I’d suggest we buy them in bulk.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a healthy libido.

“I need to borrow a bikini top,” I tell her.

Violet’s eyes dart to my rack. “Umm…”

Six months ago I might’ve been offended. I used to be self-conscious about the size of my boobs, or the lack of size. But Randy loves them—he loves every part of me, actually—so I’m not nearly as hung up on how small they are anymore.

“It’s not for me. It’s for Sunny.”

“Oh.”

“She’s busting out of her bikini and having a bit of a meltdown over it.”

Alex appears in the doorway behind Violet. His hair is wet, like he just got out of the shower. “What’s going on?”

“Sunny’s boobs,” Violet replies. “Hold on. I’ve got options.” She brushes past Alex, who looks confused.

“Do I even want an explanation?” he asks.

“Sunny’s boobs are preparing to be feedbags,” Violet calls from the bedroom.

“Oh. Right. Okay. I’ll meet you girls down at the dock then.” He steps around me, as if he can’t get out of here fast enough.

Violet rummages through her dresser, slinging bathing suit tops over her shoulder.

“Wow. How many bikinis do you have?”

“A lot.” She holds another one up, shakes her head, and tosses it on the dresser. “You know how some guys buy lots of baseball caps and some women have shoe and purse fetishes?”

“Sure. I guess.” I’m not sure what this has to do with the ridiculous number of bathing suits Violet owns, but often her conversation starters don’t make a lot of sense.

“Alex has a bikini fetish. He buys them for me all the time. Actually, he buys them for my boobs. I think he gift wraps them so he can address the cards to my boobs.”

“You two are crazy, you know that?”

“Oh yeah, totally.” She shoves the drawer closed with her hip, and I follow her down the hall. “I have bathing suit options!” Violet announces as we step into Sunny and Miller’s room.

The door is wide open, so that should be a sure sign it’s safe to enter. It isn’t.

Sunny’s sitting on the bathroom vanity, with Miller standing between her legs. His bathing suit shorts are pushed down so half of his Day-Glo white ass is showing. She’s got one hand in his hair, and the other is grabbing a handful of ass cheek. They very well may be having sex, based on the way they’re moving against each other.

“Goddamn it! Are you boning? Why the hell is the door open? Your yeti ass is blinding me!” Violet throws the bikinis up in the air and spins around. “Just you wait, Buck! I’m going to get you back for this, and I promise it’s going to be a million times worse than your hairy bare ass,” Violet yells as she walks out of the room.

“I’ll come back later!” I pull the door closed behind me.