Trip’s face flushed purple. “Fuck it. I don’t. You can have her. She—”
“You wanna think long and hard about what you’re going to say next because that is my friend you’re talking ’bout,” Anthony growled.
Nick would have felt sorry for Trip if he wasn’t resisting the urge to kick his ass. Nick was six-foot-two in his bare feet and Anthony topped him by an inch, plus another thirty pounds of muscle. It made Tony a beast on the football field and growing up as the youngest with four older brothers, he learned how to fight dirty early.
“All I was going to say is that she deserves to be happy,” Trip gritted out.
“Don’t worry about Noel’s happiness. I got it covered.”
Trip glared when Nick winked at him. Anthony trailed behind him out of the locker room, catching up when they reached the exit. Even with the sun shining above, there was still a sharp nip in the air and Nick pulled the sweatshirt he’d grabbed from the locker on over his head.
“What a douche.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Nick said, unlocking his truck. “Thanks for having my back in there.”
“Always. Get home before your mom roasts you. See you Thursday!”
“Yep.” Nick climbed up into his truck and took the long road through town, honking as he passed A Shop for All Seasons. Holly’s car was still parked down the street, so at least he wasn’t running too late.
Nick walked through the door eleven minutes later and found his mom in the living room, folding clothes.
“Hey, Mom.”
She shot him an arch look. “The photographer is going to be here in fifteen minutes.”
“I know, that’s why I’m here. Gonna hop in the shower and get pretty for the camera. It won’t take me long.” He took off toward the hallway.
“Your shirt is hanging up on the ceiling fan in your room.”
He stopped midstride and spun around. “You bought me a shirt?”
His mom didn’t even look up at his outraged tone. “Yes. I bought one for you and your father that match.”
“Mom, I’m not seven. Being twinsies,” he raised his voice an octave, “with my dad is just bananas.”
She actually pretended to scratch under her armpits and jumped from foot to foot. “Well, then call me Cocoa the Gorilla ’cause this is happening.” She picked up the laundry basket and passed by him. “Now go get cleaned up. You stink to high heaven. Are you wearing deodorant?”
“Of course I am!” He sniffed his pits to be sure, an evil grin spreading across his mouth. “Maybe you need to get closer.”
Nick raised his arm as he chased after his mother, trying to put his armpit in her face. She screamed with laughter and threw a rolled-up pair of socks at him right before slamming her bedroom door. He heard the click of the lock.
“Get out of here! And bring me any laundry you want washed.”
“I can do my own laundry!” Nick shouted, amusement and irritation swirling inside him.
He stomped down to his room and discovered the blue collared shirt hanging exactly where she said it would be. He felt like a kindergartner on his first day of school. His mother hadn’t quite discovered that he wasn’t eighteen anymore and he’d been out on his own for years. Nick knew she wouldn’t stop mothering him when he had his own place, but at least it would curb some of this behavior.
Nick hopped in the shower, scrubbing his hair and body, tracing a hand over the stubble on his jaw. It would be ornery of him to walk out with a five o’clock shadow, so he opted to shave to appease his mother. After he made sure to apply deodorant, he wrapped the towel around his waist and headed back to his room. There was no way his mother could say he stunk now.
The sound of rummaging came from his room and he rolled his eyes. “Mom, I said I could get my own laundry— Noel?”
Noel spun around, dropping his gray laundry basket to the floor. “Oh! Hi!”
“Hey, um…what are you doing in here?”
“Your mom asked me to grab your laundry basket so she could start a full load.”
“Son of a…I told her I could do my own laundry.”
Noel’s eyes darted around the room, her brown hair curled into loose waves. She wore a blue crop T-shirt and jeans.
“Yeah, I was outside the front door when I heard you yelling. I’m just doing what she asked.”
Nick groaned. “We all do. Is that what you’re wearing?”
“What? No. Your mom said she has a shirt she wants me to wear.” Noel pulled on the bottom of her shirt. “Why? You saying I don’t look nice?”