“So you just throw a ball?” Jace lifts one brow as he asks me that, gesturing with his free hand to the television. On which the QB now receives the snap, assesses the situation, and throws a perfect pass to a wide receiver. “What’s so special about that? Any idiot can throw a ball.”
His remark makes my brothers and dad crack up of course.
“Oh? If you think it’s so easy, we can practice sometimes.”
Jace gives a chuckle next to me. “You’re on. And after you can try to get the ball from me when I’m dribbling. Asoccerball that is.”
“Youdoknow a QB also has to run, right? I’m quicker than you.”
He elbows me. “No, you’re not.”
“Isoam.” I turn sideways more and raise my brows at him. “I beat your ass almost every morning. You’re always lagging behind.”
Jace presses his lips together, his eyes twinkling. I groan, knowingexactlynow why I’m always the one in front. Sneaky butt-ogler.
“Oh, shit! You got beat by asoccerplayer?” J slaps me on my back from my other side. I ignore him and squint at my boyfriend.
“I don’t believe you. We’resotesting it next week. You can even wear that stupid headband that reminds you of David fucking Beckham.”
He’s cackling now, but I’m distracted by J who I swear mutters something like ‘Beckham is so hot.’
“How doyouknow who Beckham is?” I ask my very uneducated brother as I turn around.
“What?” He responds with a shrug. “I watched soccer sometimes back in the day. It’s a fun sport.”
“You only watched it because you were drooling all over the playerslikeBeckham.” Mase, in front of J, smacks his brother on the knee.
“I wasn't.”
“You had a poster.”
“Well at least it was Beckman,” Jace pipes in, grinning at J.
“I know right?” He holds up his fist in front of me and Jace leans around me to tap it.
“He’s hot for an old dude,” Jace supplies happily.
“Nothing wrong with old dudes,” J agrees with a wiggle of his brows. “Lots of experience.”
Mase groans, echoing my feelings about the subject. “Stop talking about banging old dudes, you’re traumatizing mom.”
“No you ain’t, honey,” Mom interrupts, pointing at her sons with her trusty needle again. “I’ve read my fair share of homoerotic novels. I know all about that daddy stuff.”
I almost cough up my dinner and hear J choke on something beside me as well. “You what?”
“Don’t be a fool, love. MM novels are all the rage. Do you know that that’s what they call it if it’s about two men who find love? Bet you didn’t. They won’t shut up about it at the book club. So Ijust thought, hey let’s try this, and before I know it I’ve read like fifty books and know all about the importance of lube.”
J is in actual hysterics now, and his twin is busy putting his hands over his ears and mumbling something unrecognizable.
“She sure does,” my dad hums behind his newspaper.
“Oh ew, that's gross,” J says and pretends to vomit.
“Dad, please stop it. You're scaring Jace,” I say.
My dad gives me an incredulous look over the top of the paper. “He's from Amsterdam, son. Do you think some talk about sex is going to scare him off?”
Jace only grins.
