I unfolded the paper, glancing at the date and times. “In five days. That should be enough time for everyone to cool down, yeah?”
“Sure, hon.” Michelle got up, shaking her head at me a little bit. “I knew I liked you for a reason. Your balls are bigger than most men I know.”
I laughed. “Then you aren’t around decent guys. Ball size is everything.”
She cackled, shouldering her purse and reapplying lipstick. “Balls are a deal breaker for me.”
“Dude, I know.” I leaned farther back into the couch, wishing it would swallow me up. Regret and embarrassment would hit me later, with Michelle at work and no one to distract me. “I’ve said it all the time,butballs are weird. Guys have to have them, but where do they go when they ride a bike?”
“Right! Or when they sit? Do they squish them to the side or flatten them?”
“How can they cross their legs?” I added. “And why must they touch them all the damn time? And do the reach-down-then-smell-their-fingers thing?”
“Why do they ball tap each other? I don’t mind a titty twister now and again, but I don’t greet my friends with a boob grab every time.”
I laughed—Michelle had a great point. “I mean, the thought they walk around with a stick hanging out boggles my mind. But add two squishy sacks of skin next to it? Why?” I closed my eyes, thoughts of balls and penises overtaking my mind.
Michelle snickered and headed toward the door. She had to work and the thought of doing homework alone depressed me. “I’ll be home later than normal. I might be staying until breakfast.”
“Damn, well, be safe. I’ll be here thinking about balls.”
“God.” She shook her head. “I’m glad we’re roomies. See you.”
She shut the door and I smiled. I liked Michelle as much as I could like someone outside my family. Hope blossomed in my chest that maybe, justmaybe, I could let her in.
Chapter Two
Gideon
“Uncle Gid, Uncle Gid! Take me to the park. Please. Please!”
I rubbed my temples—the headache from the phone call hadn’t gone away. Punching brick walls would be preferable to coaching with thatwoman. “Quinn, not now.”
“But why?” Her pursed lips resembled her mother’s to a tee. Sassy, loud and with the ability to manipulate me into doing anything—Quinn was the miniature version of my sister.
“I have a headache.” Maybe if I ignored her, she would find something else to occupy her time. I ground my teeth.Someone coaching with me? Fuck. That. Noise.
“You always havesomething.” She sighed as much as a seven-year-old could and stomped out of the living room.Finally, peace and quiet.
Recalling the phone call got my blood boiling again.Who the hell is this chick? Why does she have my number?Why did she sound sixteen? Why do I have to fucking coach?
Quinn shuffled around her room, making more noise than necessary to get my attention. A slight wave of regret went through me. I hadn’t been the best uncle since my injury. We used to do all sorts of crazy activities—fairs, parks, zoos, libraries. She was my favorite little person. Now, when I babysat her, we never left home. The last time we’d doneanythingwas go see a new kids’ movie. And that had been weeks ago.
“Quinn?” I groaned into the pillow. Her excited footsteps tapped down the hall until she stood right in front of me. Her sly toothy grin told me she’d planned the whole thing out. “Were you trying to make me feel bad?”
“No.” She pouted, her wide-set eyes bugging out at her obvious lie. “Why would I want to upset my favorite uncle?”
“Onlyuncle, but I’ll accept it.” I pulled her into my lap, her giggles echoing off the wood-paneled walls. My sister wasn’t keen on decorating, but the few things she had hung up all reflected her life with Quinn. Hell, it showed off Quinn’s work and the colors she brought to our lives. My loft had been top dollar, yet it didn’t look like anyone had lived there the past five years.Because my life is sad.
“What do you want to do? The park? Ice cream? Batting cages?” I tickled her side, her laughter becoming desperate as she squirmed away from me. “If you’re going to be a monkey, I’m gunna treat you like one.”
“Stop!” she shrieked, the sound not pleasant, but her laughter made up for it. “I’m not a monkey. I’m not!”
“Say Uncle Gid is the best.”
“Uncle Gid is the best!” she squealed and I picked her up like a sack of potatoes. “Uncle Gid!”
“I don’t hear anything. La la la!” I teased and found my mood lightening.Screw that chick on the phone.“To the park we go!”
