But that thought comes to an abrupt and screeching halt when I catch sight of what she’s looking at. Because it’s not the lake. It’s Clyde. On the deck. Naked. My jaw unhinges as I come to stand next to her, chin dropping in shock. He’s seated facing away from us, legs spread and in the air, with his arms hooked behind his knees. “What the fuck is he doing?” Gwen looks up at me, amusement dancing on her face. “Oh, that?” she replies with a little smirk. “He’s, uh…sunning his perineum.”
