Chet Approved

Chet had the couch. He always had the couch. It was the best spot in the house: perfect sightline to the TV, easy reach to the fridge, and close enough to the window to yell at the neighbour's dog if it barked too long.

Right now, the TV was tuned to Hot Singles: Cabo Edition. Chet was halfway through a bag of chips, a beer sweating on the coffee table, his hand down the waistband of his gym shorts in a way that was both comfortable and deeply unphotogenic.

Onscreen, a bikini-clad contestant was crying in the pool because her "boyfriend" from two days ago had hooked up with a Pilates instructor. Chet snorted.

"Classic mistake," he muttered, reaching for another handful of chips. "You don't cry in front of the camera. You keep it tight, you make 'em want you. God, chicks are emotional."

He adjusted himself, scratched, and let out a burp that rattled through his ribs. The sound made him grin. Simple pleasures.

The show cut to a shot of the guys flexing shirtless by the pool. Chet sized them up automatically. "Pretty boys," he said aloud, leaning back. "They got abs, sure, but no one wants to date a statue. You gotta be real. Gritty. Scars, that's what girls dig. Shows you got stories."

He rubbed the faint welt still visible on his upper arm from last weekend's paintball game. "I should go to the beach and show this baby off," he said, nodding to himself. "Girls love that kind of shit."

For a moment, Chet's mind drifted away from the Mexican melodrama and onto that evening. Lisa. The idea of Lisa, Wyatt's best friend, staying over sent a ripple of excitement through him. For years, Chet had figured Wyatt was doomed to spend life writing code or talking to plants or whatever it was nerds did. But lately, the kid had actually started to turn things around. Not only had she started dressing sharper (that leopard-print bikini she had on tonight was bad-ass), but she'd been able to hold onto what had been the one redeeming factor of being Wyatt's older brother.

Lisa.

The fox.

The most drop-dead, gorgeous, amazing woman Chet had ever laid eyes on.

And she was staying at their house all week!

He imagined Lisa. Long hairy legs. Tight clothes. Flat chest. Chet grinned wider. It was like having a pinup bunk with you. Chet had suspicions that Wyatt was sweet on her best friend, but how could a girl like Lisa even notice Wyatt when Chet was in the room? Oh yeah, she'd definitely notice the Chet-miester. All women did, eventually. They acted like they didn't at first, but he could tell. He had that sixth sense for it.

The show cut to a scene where two women were arguing by the pool, drawing him back to the action. One was throwing a drink; the other was crying again. Chet watched, transfixed. "Oh, yeah. That's the good stuff." He licked salt off his thumb. "Give it to her. They don't make shows like this for women, man—they make 'em for me... about women."

A contestant strutted into the scene wearing a glittery bikini top, and Chet sat forward a little, appreciative. "Now that's confidence," he said, knowing that she couldn't hold a candle to Lisa. Still, he could appreciate some good eye candy. "That's what I'm talkin' about."

He caught his reflection in the blank section of the TV screen during a commercial break: mussed hair, pizza stain on his shirt, faint outline of abs that he swore were more visible last summer. He flexed experimentally.

"Not bad," he said to himself. "Still got it."

His phone buzzed with a notification from his paintball group chat: SATURDAY SCRIMMAGE - BRING GEAR + ATTITUDE.

"Oh, hell yeah," he said, pumping his fist. "Attitude is my middle name."

He took a long pull from his beer, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and turned up the volume as the show resumed. At that moment, the doorbell rang. From upstairs came Wyatt's voice, bright and too quick:

"I'll get it!"

Chet grinned, leaning back deeper into the couch. "You better," he said to the empty room, grabbing another handful of chips. "Don't keep a lady waiting."

But even if Wyatt did keep her waiting, somehow screw up the visit, Chet was ready and willing to step in and be someone's hero.