Smirking, I puckered up and blew a kiss for my camera, then sent it.I can’twasn’tno, and I’d be damned if I stopped now.
* * *
First thingin the morning I sent him a pic of my spunk-covered abs, making sure the shot was closer to the goods than it had been yesterday, while keeping my dick out of view. I wasn’t embarrassed and didn’t fucking care if my cock ended up on the internet, but I also liked Flynn. Something told me that if I pushed in the wrong ways right now, I might send him over a cliff’s edge, where he wouldn’t bounce back to talking to me, so I kept it.... Well, my conversations were fucking dirty, but more tasteful than I wanted them to be.
Flynn:You jerk off a lot.
Wiping my hand on the quilt with a chuckle, I thought for a second.
Judge:You should have been here to eat it.
I took a pic of me licking my thumb and sent it, grinning like an idiot.
Judge:Your turn.
I didn’t bother to change out of my pajama pants as I left my room to head downstairs. Jury was just leaving his room, and I had to laugh. He was a worse morning person than me and always had been, even though we were identical twins. He barely had his eyes cracked open. We’d managed to pick out the exact same red-and-white plaid pajama pants last night, which annoyed the crap out of me. I rolled my eyes at the idiocy that was my life.
“What are you so happy about?” Jury asked, and I hoped I never sounded that catty.
“Nothing.” I winked at him and slipped my phone into my pocket.
He let out a dramatic gasp and rested his hand over his heart.
I scowled at him. “What?”
“You’ve got splooge on your pants.”
Frowning, I glanced down.
Jury laughed at me and pointed.
“Oh, fuck you. Like you didn’t choke it before you came out here.”
He snickered and guffawed and the ass kept going until he was giggling. I had enough and shoved him, which led to him pushing me. We fought the whole way down the winding staircase, which had several sharp turns, and inevitably one or the other of us would thump against the wall.
“Boys!” Dad called, and it sounded as if he was in the hallway on the first floor. “So help me, if you put an elbow or anything else through the drywall, you’re both in trouble. Your papa is hosting his wine club this weekend and he would lose it. He’s already having a breakdown because the caterer he usually brings in is booked up.”
We stopped and rushed the rest of the way to the bottom of the stairs because when Dad sounded like that he meant business, and no matter how old you got, you had to go tell him you were—“Sorry, Dad,” we said together, and we were assholes and did it on purpose at exactly the same time. Jury knocked his elbow against mine, and I shoved him back.
Dad’s face lit up. We took after him. Papa’s sister was our surrogate, so we looked like both of them, but we had his height and green eyes and smile. Papa gave us our noses, and that was about it. Dad had always loved it when we didtwin thingsas kids, had always smiled a little more and been more forgiving if we were in trouble, and it was a hard habit to break—especially since he loved us a lot and it still worked on him.
He grinned and hugged us one at a time. “You’re such good boys. School today?”
“Yep. We have classes every day this semester.”
“Good.” Dad patted my head, even though he had to reach up to do it. “How are the grades?”
Jury and I sighed, and this time it wasn’t coordinated. We got tired of him asking.
He pushed his hand through his hair and ruffled it. “I know. You’re both smart as a button—”
“Tack,” Jury said.
“Whip,” I corrected. “It’s smart as a whip, and sharp as a tack.”
Dad kept talking while Jury squinted at me. “There are pancakes in the oven. If either of you could crawl out of bed before eight in the morning, we could have breakfast together.”
I knew that was his eternal dream, but I couldn’t manage to do it, and Jury was even worse.
