Figuring out whomeis.
Encourages me to own the parts that I already know.
Ugh.
He’s written by Dean Devlin perfection.
Flopping down into the middle of the nude-colored couch barely precedes me hitting ignore on the incoming video chat.
It’s not that I don’twantto talk to my big brother.
My best friend.
The one person that’s always been my go-to confidant for just about everything.
It’s just that Ican’t.
Not here.
Not now.
Not with his top tendy in the next room literally making me dinner.
Loading up our text thread quickly occurs afterward.
Me: Out for dinner. Chat tom?
M: Ofc.
M: And tell the dude that you’re dating he’s getting “going to the cup” interviewed when I get back.
Yeah.
He still hasno ideathat I’m dating one of his players.
And I heard what Hennington said.
That shit couldn’t have been any clearer.
It was basically in closed captioning.
Ineedto tell M.
I hate keeping this from him, it’s just that I don’t wanna do it over the phone.
I wanna do it in person.
Directly to his face.
Preferably after he’s chugged down plenty of brewskies, a plate of wings, and been promised doggy on the stairs because the kids are with their grandparents for the night aka his version of a Gordie Howe hat trick.
Thayne eventually joins me on the couch while his brother hits play on the show.
For the first few minutes, all I hear is frantic crunching so loud that it tempts me into not eating at all; however, the instant Bronny gasps so hard, he chokes on a chip, the two mouths with legs slow down.
Remember how to savor their food.
Chew.
