Shutout (Rules of the Game, #2)(14)
Mind you, there’s one noteworthy exception to this rule—and he’s sitting ten feet away.
Upon further reflection, I think I’ve got a new type.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay while we’re away next month?” Chase furrows his brow, scrutinizing my face like he doesn’t believe I’ll answer him honestly. “You could stay at Bailey and Shiv’s if you want. Or go see mom. She’d like that.”
“Can’t I just stay here?” I’m not clear on why he’s asking this. He’ll be out of town for several away games before this trip, and I’ll be by myself then, too. Does he not trust me without his supervision? Thinks I’ll throw a kegger in his absence?
He lifts a shoulder. “Wasn’t sure you’d want to be alone with Tyler. Don’t get me wrong, he won’t do anything out of line, but I get it if you’d rather take off for the weekend. I’m sure he wouldn’t be offended.”
Oh… shit.
Naturally, I hadn’t given much thought to my brother’s upcoming romantic getaway, which means I also hadn’t considered the implications of him and Dallas both being gone: two whole nights alone with Tyler. Just me and the highly tattooed sex god I hooked up with on Halloween. No big deal. Perfectly normal, everyday situation.
“How come he isn’t going with you guys?” I ask, playing dumb. Chase is more loose-lipped when he’s drunk, and I’m hoping he’ll give me some dirt to help fill in the blanks. What good is an older brother if you can’t exploit him a little for investigative purposes?
“Ty? On a couple’s trip?” He barks a laugh. “Tyler doesn’t date, Sera. He mostly just fu—” he catches himself before he finishes saying what we both know he was about to say. Why, I’m not sure. I’m not innocent, and it’s not like I have virgin ears. “He’s more of a hookup kind of guy. But he hasn’t been doing that lately, either.”
“Oh. I wonder why.” Now I’m really pushing the envelope, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take. I’m dying to know the answer.
Chase snorts, rolling his eyes. “Who knows? He’s a moody fucker sometimes.”
Bzzt. Thanks for nothing, elder sibling. I wanted the tea, not a glass of lukewarm tap water. The term “moody” could be used to describe the majority of guys I know.
That men somehow managed to convince the world women are the emotional sex is the biggest scam of all time.
“Speaking of moody.” I gently touch his arm to draw his attention away from Bailey again. “How have you been?”
His expression clouds over. “Fine.”
“Are you sure?” His life basically exploded at the end of last semester, and he’s been dealing with the fallout ever since.
“As long as I’ve got Bailey, fuck it. Everything else will pass.”
Fair enough. If anyone is resilient enough to make it through in one piece, it’s Chase. I’m glad he has someone to lean on.
“Are you talking about me?” Bailey strolls into the kitchen wearing a little black dress that Chase called “his real birthday present” earlier when he thought I was out of earshot. Her cheeks are rosy, her hazel eyes are glassy, and she’s clearly more than a little buzzed.
The way he does an immediate 180 in her presence is nothing sort of shocking. His attention zeroes in on her and his entire demeanor softens like a stick of butter over a hot stove.
Dipping his head, he brings his lips to hers. “I’m always talking about you, baby.”
Okay, now we’re tiptoeing into nauseating territory. He is still my brother, after all.
“Carter,” she whispers, giggling. “We have an audience.”
“Right…” He kisses her again before he reluctantly pulls away and wraps an arm around her waist, tucking her against him protectively.
Bailey gestures to the kitchen table with her red plastic cup. “Our game just wrapped up. Do you guys want to join us for the next round?”
It might be tempting—if I could lower myself into a seated position without committing indecent exposure. Maybe if I squeeze my thighs together tightly enough, it’ll be okay.
His expression sobers when he notices her drink is empty, and he studies her with tenderness in his dark eyes. “Do you need anything, James? Should I grab you a glass of water?”
Given how they met, it’s a reasonable enough question. She reportedly had too much to drink and threw up on my brother’s shoes outside a nightclub. The same one where I first encountered Tyler, incidentally.
It’s a cuter story than it sounds. At any rate, I find it endearing how innocent Bailey seems compared to Chase, who was doing beer bongs in our basement at sixteen.
“I already switched to water,” she confirms, looking sheepish.
Abby walks up and bumps my hip with hers. “Just about ready to go, Sera?”
“Go?” Chase echoes, eyeing Abby like she’s some kind of party-crasher.
“Yeah! Rob’s got us on the VIP list for XS. Wanna join?”
My brother’s lip raises in a none-too-subtle sneer. He looks like he’d rather have a root canal. Bailey discreetly elbows him, an unspoken reminder to be polite he’ll surely disregard.
“We’re good.” He catches my eye and raises his eyebrows pointedly. “Don’t you have an appointment with your academic advisor tomorrow? You know, to finish finalizing your course selections?”