“Aren’t you hot, Cas?” Dean groaned as he peeled off his shirt and took a handful of ice from the cooler to rub it on his chest before he popped open a cold bottle of beer.

“No.” I stood next to the Impala, dressed in my suit and trench coat while I watched Sam follow his older brother’s example. “I don’t get hot or cold.”

“Or have fun, or get drunk or laid either,” Dean pointed out as he flicked some of the cold water at me. I frowned at the water spots on my tie. “Missing the good stuff.”