Bax raised his mug, and Callahan clinked his to it.
Assholes.
“Look, I don’t know how many times I can apologize for inviting those girls over here. I honestly thought you liked them since you all flirted with them at parties and such. Until the mess Tory caused last semester, I’d never seen that side of her.” The timer on the stove rescued me for a minute as I shut it off and pulled our breakfast from the oven. “Well, except whenever she was around Chess.” My mouth turned down. “I probably still have some work to do there.”
“Maybe you should address that issue before you start ‘whatever’ with her on your date this afternoon,” Bax suggested with his infernal air quotes.
Before I could tell him to mind his own damn business, Danny interrupted. “Seriously, Bax?” he asked as he straggled in to breakfast dead last—a habit I’d noticed since the semester started.
“What?” Bax asked, confusion wrinkling his brow.
“The shirt. Bet Coach Larkin flips you all kinds of shit for that one.” Danny grinned and helped himself to what was left of the coffee.
Before Danny’s observation, I hadn’t paid any attention to Bax’s T-shirt du jour. When I read “Every once in a while, someone amazing comes along... and here I am,” I cracked up.
“Yep, Larkin’s going to flip you all kinds of shit over this one.” I laughed, glad for the distraction from thinking about a conversation I knew Chess and I still needed to have.
My friend glanced down at his shirt and shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Nothing wrong with truth in advertising.”
Callahan chuckled. “You’re a piece of work, Baxter.” Reaching past me, he snagged a burrito from the pan. “You riding with me, Finn?”
“Yeah.”
“You riding with the awesome one?” Bax asked Danny with a smirk.
Danny shook his head, but he was smiling. “How could I pass up such an incredible opportunity?”
Since Danny had lightened the mood, I decided it was in my best interests to refrain from calling his ass out for sharing what he overheard coming from my bedroom when Chess was over. We jostled our way through the front door and out to the trucks. Normally, my motor ran hot, but this fine February morning in the arctic darkness of a late winter cold snap, I was pretty damn glad to ride with my friend, whose pickup sported a remote truck starter.
I climbed into the warm interior of ’Han’s truck, buckled up, and unwrapped my sausage-and-egg burrito. If I was harboring any delusion that the conversation about a certain gorgeous blonde I’d hung out with over the weekend had passed, Callahan shot me down the second he slid in behind the wheel.
“’Bout time you stopped mooning after Chessly and finally impressed the woman.” Checking his mirrors, he put his pickup in reverse and cautiously backed down the slick driveway.
“Jesus, fuck. We weren’t that loud,” I grumbled into my breakfast.
He smirked. “Just saying. You must have shown her a good time Saturday night since she voluntarily spent most of Sunday with you.”
“If you want to know about my date on Saturday night, ask.” I stuffed my face with a manly bite of breakfast, not caring how at odds my words and actions were.
“All right, Finnegan. What did you do to impress the lady who, from what I’ve seen, is pretty tough to impress?” He wheeled through the roundabout a block from our house then peeled open his breakfast on the first straightaway after it.
“You gonna gossip about this too?” I growled. “I picked up a catered picnic dinner, and we played lawn games on the practice field. I showed her a good time.”
“Niiice, Finn.” My friend held a fist out for me to bump. “I’ve lived with you for three years and had no idea you were such a romantic.”
“Fuck off, ’Han.”
“I’m serious. You put some effort into that date. No wonder Chessly wanted to spend more time with you.” He cleared his throat. “But I’m glad I don’t share a wall with your bedroom.”
“You and Danny are first-class assholes.” I slid him a side-eye. “Anytime you want to trade rooms, I’m all over taking the master at the end of the hall.”
“Nah. My lady and I are pretty happy the master bath shares a wall with Danny’s room.”
“And happy having another bathroom between your room and Bax’s.”
He laughed. “That too.”
A thought occurred to me—something about Bax’s earlier comment about defensive players versus skill players. With a dramatic sigh, I said, “Sorry you assholes are all jealous of my mad skills pleasing my lady. You’ll have to get over yourselves, though, because I have plans to keep pleasing her.”
