Iton shook his head at me from across the line. Sweat gleamed on his forehead and stuck his shirt to his chest—he’d been playing for real. “You better pay attention to me instead of daydreaming about your muscle man. I’m right here and I’ll kick your ass.”
“You can try!”
“There is no trying, I’m doing.” He scowled and rubbed both hands over his bald head, as if he was shining it up to do battle, and I lost my shit, laughing. We didn’t really do mean trash talk, not anything like I would get into with strangers, but this was a lot of fun and half the reason I still played with everyone.
“Try me,” I murmured.
Gibson sighed and tossed the ball at Iton. “Run him over! Don’t let that bullshit stand.”
We all laughed as Iton pressed forward and the game was on. Our group played for about two hours until everyone was dripping with sweat and no one could complain they hadn’t won at least one game.
Jury and I went home, showered, and got comfortable with cups of coffee in the big living room downstairs, since we had reading and papers to finish. As I worked carefully through my school to-do list, I kept checking my phone in case Flynn was done drinking a little early, but the hour crept later and later without a word from him.
It was ridiculous, but I kept taking my phone out to stare at it and wish he was here. He wouldn’t need to do anything special, simply lean against my side and be in my space. I was in trouble—I’d never wanted silly things like this, but I didn’t hate it. Everything with Flynn felt good.
Jury fought a yawn and dropped one of his thick case-law books to the floor with a groan. He fixed his big green eyes on me, and I knew he was about to ask me for a favor I didn’t want to do—there was a guilty little frown deepening the fine lines at the corners of his mouth. “Will you go with me to the library tomorrow?”
Scowling at him, I sat up straighter and set my laptop on the coffee table, saved my work, and closed the lid to stare at him.Interesting.“For what?”
He shrugged and his face went pink. I fought back the urge to start picking on him because then he’d never tell me what was on his mind. “Maybe you want to invite Mr. Goddard again?”
Snorting, I shook my head. “Can’t do it too often in the same place. I would never forgive myself if he got caught because we made that a habit.” I held out my arm toward him to let him know I was ready to listen without being a huge asshole.
He got up and came over to sit beside me, staring directly into my face—too close. I put my hand on his shoulder and eased him back a few inches, but he wore an intense expression that made me uncomfortable. Had I looked like that when I was trying to figure out how to get Flynn to go out with me?
“Help me think of a reason to be there. In the library.”
This was too much, but again, I fought not to laugh. “How about all the reasons libraries exist? Books? Research material?” I grasped at straws. “You could pretend you’re a dumbass and don’t know how to download e-books. I think the librarian also handles the access to the law databases, maybe you could pretend you don’t know how to reset your password.”
He spread his hands wide and pouted. “This is what you do to me? I help you stalk someone, and this half-assed help is the best you have to offer? I don’t want to come off as stupid.” He widened his eyes and shook his head. “I thought you loved me. I thought I was your brother.”
“You are my brother, dipshit. Is this about that librarian?”
“Bryce,” he said and fell back against the couch next to me, staring at me from a weird angle that made my neck twinge in sympathy. “His glasses are super-cute, and he looks like he would be so shy if I kissed him.” He closed his eyes and his fingers drummed on his knees. “Have you ever kissed someone like that? Where you know their lips are going to be soft, and they’ll open their mouth and lick their tongue against yours.” He shifted around next to me, and I bit the inside of my cheek to hold in a laugh.
“I’ll help you think of something tomorrow, okay? You could go into the library and ask him to help you find a copy of Schrödinger’sTheory of Law Ethics.”
His brow furrowed and he cracked his eyes open to stare at me. “What’s that?”
“A book that exists until you start searching for it.” I winked at him. “Just find a reason to hang out with him for a few minutes and put some moves on him.” I shoved his shoulder, and he grunted.
“Moves,” he said, deadpan. “You’re confusing librarians with cheerleaders. He’s not stupid, I need a solid reason to speak with him.”
“You’re being rude, cheerleaders are as smart as anyone.” I shook my finger in his face until he slapped it away.
“Daxton Chase was an airhead.”
“That is one guy, and yes, he was, but you were the one dumb enough to date him for what? Six months? You were there for the cheer sex about three years running. Was there a guy with a cheerleading uniform in the whole city you didn’t manage to hump senior year of high school?”
He shoved me as hard as he could, and I laughed as I slid off the couch.
“Fuck. Off. They’re cute, and they wear those tight shorts to practice. You’re a fucking asshole. Sometimes they wear those socks like the girls do. I mean, a lot of the cheer guys are into the glam thing.” He stopped to stare off into space, then shook his head.
Snorting, I covered my face and laughed while peeking through my fingers. “Looks like you’re after nerds now. Some things do change. Bet you could get him to wear the socks and shorts if you asked nice.”
He stood, fuming, with his shoulders hiked up near his ears, and I thought he was going to jump on top of me, but he held back. “Bryce isn’t a nerd! He’s smart and he loves books.”
Snickering, I bit my lip. “Which would make him a nerd.”
