Declan shrugged. “Never claimed otherwise.”
“Don’t you two have more important shit to deal with than my fan mail?”
“No,” Declan said, at the same time Lincoln said, “It can all wait.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“You’re probably right.” Lincoln nodded. “I should take care of the fridge sooner rather than later.”
“What fridge?” I glanced over my shoulder at my mom’s, eyeing it top to bottom. It would just figure something was wrong with it, considering everything else going on here.
“The one at the bar,” Lincoln said. “That fucker’s as dead as a zombie.”
“Dead? When the hell did that happen?”
“Last night.”
“And you’re just telling menow?”
He raised a brow at me. “Yeah, I wanted to avoid this for as long as possible.”
I blew out a heavy sigh and gripped the back of a chair, the wood creaking under my hands. “Did you get it cleaned up?”
“What’s there to clean up?”
I clenched my teeth, my jaw ticking as I stared at my youngest brother. “Jesus, Linc. There’s going to be water every-fucking-where. And you justleftit?”
He leaned back in his chair, the picture of indifference, and shook his head. “Goddamn, you’re grumpier than usual this morning. Don’t worry about it.”
“One of us has to, and it’s clearly not you. Now I’ve gotta go to the bar and deal with that instead of heading to school for my actual job.”
“Maybe I can help,” Mom said, sitting up a little straighter. “Someone can cover my shift at the library. There are all kinds of different help videos on YouTube. I bet I can find something?—”
“No,” Declan, Lincoln, and I all said at the same time.
“I’llgo to the bar. I’ll even text you updates, you control freak.” Lincoln kicked the chair next to him, sliding it toward me. “Now, sit down and have breakfast with us.”
“Withus? No.You’regoing to clean up the bar like you just told me you would. And I want an update before I finish my first cup of coffee.” I stalked over to the coffee station, pulled a mug down from the cabinet, and grabbed the pot. Only to find it empty.Empty.
Because of fucking course it was.
I shot a glare toward the dining room. Who the fuck left an empty pot without starting another this early in the morning? Lincoln and Mom were talking, but Declan winked at me, holding his coffee cup up in a salute.
“Little fucker,” I muttered under my breath as I readied the machine to make another pot…only to find the bag of coffee grounds empty. I braced my hands on the counter, closed my eyes, and blew out an exhausted sigh, ready for this entire day to be over.
On the plus side, there was no way it could get any worse.
Turned out,I was wrong. My day couldabsolutelyget worse.
First, I’d gotten halfway to work before realizing I’d left my playbook on my kitchen counter and had to turn around. Then, the ancient water fountain outside my office finally kicked it, creating a fucking water park in the hallway—and on my pants. And nowthis.
How the hell did people expect me to coach this team to the playoffs if so many of my goddamn players were missing during practice?
I stormed into the school office, the door ricocheting off the wall in my wake, and took in the mess in front of me. Half a dozen of my players filled the space, some lounging on the mismatched chairs, all of them acting as if they didn’t have a game to prep for. “What the fuck are you doing? Is no one interested in playing some goddamn football today?”
Jackson glanced over with a shrug. “Sorry, Coach, we had our orders.”
“Whose orders?” I barked. Because whoever they were, we were going to have words.
