“What?” I screech, turning on my brother. “You got a pedicure? Did they do a rose-petal soak of your little piggies, and scrub between your janky toes, and paint your nails Bubble Bath? Or was it Funny Bunny?” Grinning at my obvious win in our never-ending battle of one-upmanship, I shove a bite of my chicken-rice bowl into my mouth.
But Dominic isn’t the least bit embarrassed. “The fact that you know those colors says I’m right to worry you’re going to girlify my bro here.”
“The fact that you know they’re popular colors says maybe I need to be the one worried?”
“I know because I date,” he explains. “Telling a girl her new Bubble Bath manicure looks good is a surefire way to get her to wrap those fingers around my dick.”
That actually makes sense. And also,ew!
“You’re disgusting,” I scold my brother.
“To clarify, all the Hawks went for pedicures as some sort of team sponsorship deal from the salon,” Griffin informs me, interjecting into our sibling back-and-forth. “You should’ve seen Jacofovich. He jumped every time they touched his feet. So ticklish.”
“She should’ve seen Brody and Pretty Boy arguing over who had the better feet and demanding we hold a blind competition where we all voted on whose were prettiest. As if it’s not obviously Brody, but we would never tell him that because he’d be even more insufferable than he already is.”
The guys are grinning and laughing like friends again, not an angry glance between them, and I’m glad. I certainly didn’t expect to fall for Griffin, but even though I have—completely, totally, and wildly—I wouldn’t want to come between the two of them. Especially because I know how important the friendship is to Griffin.
“Oh! Before I forget, last rule,” Dominic says, reminding us where our conversation began. “I get to tell Mom and Dad about this new development.” He swings a finger from me to Griffin, looking gleeful. I don’t know why he wants to do that. Mom and Dad will be happy for me, and they love Griffin. But the devilish light sparkling in my brother’s eyes makes me question his underlying motives.
“You’re already Mom’s Least Favorite, so go ahead and steal my thunder and tell her that I’ve finally found a great guy and have fallen in love. I’m sure she’lllovethat,” I say sarcastically.
That brings him up short. But it’s Griffin’s response that draws my attention.
“A great guy? Fallen in love?” He looks shocked. “Me?”
“Duh. Yeah, you. We’ve got to work on your confidence here, Gruffy.” He frowns sharply, and I twist my lips, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that’s not the one. I’ll keep workshopping it.”
I’m trying to find a good pet name for him since he doesn’t want me to call him Honey like the Hawks do, and Griffin seems a bit formal when we’re being lovey and playful. Side note, I’m teaching him to be playful, and he absolutely is ticklish despite his statements to the contrary. But so far, he’s vetoed Babe, Griffaroni, Stud Muffin, Boo Bear, and Cookie Monster, which has nothing to do with Thin Mints and everything to do with how much he likes to eat my ...cookie. But back to his lack of confidence, I tell him fiercely, “You’re all ‘mine’ when it’s bang-a-rang time, but when things are just normie-normal, you’re all ‘who, me?’ like you don’t know how awesome—and hot—you are.”
“Ahhh! No!” Dominic screams, a bit too loud to be polite, but thankfully the restaurant is nearly empty tonight, and reminds us of rule one. “No sex talk.”
Oh yeah, he did say that. “Sorry,” I say, not actually sorry at all. “But also, you’re not telling Mom and Dad. I am.”
Dominic frowns, his bottom lip pouting out like a child, but he’s fighting off a grin. Was he testing me? I think he might’ve been. Testing to see how serious I am about his friend, because he already knows Griffin is serious enough that he risked their friendship over me. I sigh happily at their cute bromance, and the way they look out for one another. My brother isn’t only overly protective of me, he’s apparently overly protective of his friend, too, which is basically the sweetest thing ever. And let’s face it, now that we’re at this point, that’s going to make life better for all three of us.
“I’ll tell them,” Griffin offers. “That way, they can tell me firsthand that I’m not good enough for their daughter.”
Dominic and I meet eyes, my own worry matching his. “See what you did?” I accuse, bumping him with my shoulder so hard that he rocks to the side. Reaching across the table, I take Griffin’s hand. “We can tell them together, because they’re going to be so happy for us. They love you. Honestly, probably more than they love me. And if they have any doubts, it’ll be them checking if you’re sure you want to take onthis.” I gesture to myself, knowing that, of the two of us, I’m definitely getting the better deal here. Dominic nods, agreeing with me wholeheartedly.
Self-esteem off the ice is definitely something Griffin needs to develop. The good thing is, I’m a skilled cheerleader, and now, knowing the issue, I can help. It might take some creative cheers, but I’m good like that. My latest from this morning included some real gems such as “bring that fine ass over here” and “if you’re happy and you know it, say yeehaw.” Okay, so those two kinda rolled into one when Griffin had carried me naked, piggyback style, while I fake rodeoed, to the kitchen, where I learned that although he hates coffee, he surprisingly has a coffee maker, sugar-free vanilla syrup, and milk. He blushingly told me that he got it all for me, and offered to get an actual espresso maker if I want to make official skinny vanilla lattes at his place.
I’d stared at him, gobsmacked, as though he was speaking another language. I’ve heard the expression “if he wanted to, he would” and laughed because I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy who wanted to. Until Griffin. In his mind, he’s still making up for all those years of bullying, but I’ve already forgiven him, and he’s just getting extra brownie points with me for his sweetness.
Griffin starts to smile, and I watch as his boyish, hopeful expression turns wolfish. “I definitely want to take on this—” He lets his eyes drip over me, and though he can’t see below the table, I feel veryseen. “Anytime, anywhere, any way you want, Penelope.”
I love it when he uses my full name. No one else really does. Of course, I also love it when he groans out “Pen” like the two syllables of “Penny” are simply too much for him at that moment. Hell, he could call me anything he wanted to then, and I’d respond to him.
“Ugh! You two have ruined my appetite.” Dominic huffs, pushing his bowl away as though he can’t finish it. The only problem is, he’s already eaten the whole thing and the bowl is empty. “Fine, you tell Mom and Dad.”
“They’ll be here in the morning, right?” I ask, grinning. Our parents are coming to town to watch the first-round playoff game, ready to cheer both Dominic and me on inside the Hawks arena.
“Yeah, they said they’d see us at the game because they know we have routines to maintain. Speaking of, I’m gonna break my own rule here, just this once—” He cuts his eyes left and right, pinning both Griffin and me. “No sex during playoffs. It’s bad luck and bad for endurance.”
Griffin laughs. “If you think I’m not fucking Penny as soon as we get back to my place tonight, you’ve lost your damn mind.” My brother opens his mouth to argue, but Griffin cuts him off. “You brought it up, so no whining now. But don’t worry, I’ll be good for the game.”
“Are you sure? Maybe a little sexual frustration would be good for you?” I suggest. “It’s worked all these years, and it is just one night. We could abstain, and I couldnottake one for the team so to speak.”
“Nope.” And like that, Griffin’s declaration tells me that it’s time to go.
