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Mick stood in the master cabin before the full length mirror and, in the dull orange light invading through the skylight above him, looked at himself. He'd seen his body a million times before but this time it was different. This time something real was about to happen to it, something he'd never known before.

Stuart and Paul were sitting transfixed on the sofa, lager cans poised at their mouths, which were hung open. Dean was slouched in the armchair, his legs dangling over one arm. He wore only the damp towel and was swigging casually from a can.

Jake was naked. His hair was damp and his dark, unshaved face was rugged. Undressed, his shoulders seemed broader somehow and his chest was defined and covered with a tangle of soft, dark hair. Mick let his own eyes travel further down, across the flat stomach to strong thighs and firm legs covered with softer, even hair which stopped at the ankles.