Chapter 11

Joey

“When exactly does baseball end?” I grumble as I open a can of baked beans.

“Just in time for football to start up.”

She’s not as annoyed because she doesn’t care what’s on TV so long as she’s got Jon in her line of sight.

“No steaks today?” Dave asks as he walks in and grabs a beer from the fridge.

“Jon’s out of propane and forgot to get a new cylinder,” I explain.

“I told him to use charcoal,” he murmurs before walking out and joining the other guys in the living room.

“I’m going to have to do all of the cooking when we get married,” Andi huffs as she pours tortilla chips into a bowl.

“You’ll both starve then,” I mutter as I close the door on the microwave a little too hard. “Explain to me how we get roped into catering for them every weekend.”

“We’re taking care of our men.” She smiles as she looks up and sees Jon talking animatedly to Cooper on the sofa. “Dave and Cooper are just part of the package.”

“They aren’t our men,” I correct.

She shrugs. “You just have to work harder at it.”

“I seriously wonder most days if you’re completely mental or just mildly delusional.”

“Wait and see.” She licks the salt off of her finger. Looking past her I find Jon’s eyes trained on her lips. “Eventually he’s going to give in.”

“He won’t sleep with you, Andi. That’s the rule,” I remind her.

“Like you won’t sleep with Anthony given the chance?”

“I don’t even know that man.”

“He doesn’t make you gooey in your lady parts?”

“I have a dick,” I remind her.

“So does he get you hard then?”

Every single time I see him.

“He’s handsome.” I shrug. That’s all she’s getting out of me.

“Cooper and Dave are handsome,” she corrects. “Anthony is god-like.”

She’s said the exact same thing before, and if things were different, I’d wholeheartedly agree with her.

“And all yours if you’re interested.” The words are like sandpaper in my mouth. “There’s no rule for you two.”

“Never in a million years,” she says with a shake of her head. “Play coy and uninterested. I know you better than that, and I’d never do anything like that to ruin my chance with Jon.”

When the microwave beeps, I pull the bowl out, remembering the damn oven mitts this time. Do you know how hard it is to clean up sticky baked beans?

I place it on the table and pull the hotdogs, already on buns, from the oven and set them on the dining room table the same time Andi carries her bowls of chips over.

“Can you grab the stuff from the fridge?” I ask as I grab Styrofoam plates from the counter and add them to the spread before bellowing, “Come and get it.”

The guys, all in deep conversation about some ball player’s pre-game ritual I’m sure, head in our direction. Anthony, still new to the group, follows a few feet behind.

“Nice,” Cooper says. “You’re the best sister we’ve ever had.”

I snort at his ridiculousness.

Anthony keeps his distance.

I watch him as he waits patiently for the other guys to clear out, willing his eyes to look up at me. He doesn’t, and I hate that it crushes my soul a little bit. I make another mental note to seek therapy for my recently developed creepy tendencies. This can’t be healthy.

So I do what I always do. I taunt him.

“Better get in there good-looking, or there won’t be anything left.”

Only then does he look over at me, and it’s so brief I don’t know how I feel about it.

He doesn’t say a word as Cooper and Jon carry their plates back to the living room.

“If you spill anything, you’re cleaning it up. Dave get your ass back to the table.”

Dave grumbles about being treated like a baby, but turns on his heel and takes a seat at the end of the dining room table so he can still see the TV.

“Don’t get pissy,” Andi says with a laugh. “There’s a rule.”

“Dave can’t eat on the carpet,” he mocks, but soon his focus is on the game and a blob of ketchup is running down the front of his shirt.

Anthony chuckles as he grabs a couple of hotdogs.

“Don’t forget the baked beans. They’re my specialty.”

Nodding, he scoops some onto his plate before grabbing a handful of chips and heading back in with the guys.

“They’re my specialty,” Andi mocks as she grabs a couple of chips.

“It’s the best I had at the moment,” I grumble.

“You need to work on your game.”

“No shit,” I tell her as I take the seat beside Dave.

He’s bitching about some play on the TV, unconcerned about the food dribbling out of his mouth.

“You need a fucking bib,” Andi hisses.

“I heard you,” he says without pulling his eyes from the TV.

“I was talking to you,” she clarifies.

He continues to moan and groan about the game before shoving half of a hot dog in his mouth and standing from the table.

“Your trash,” Andi reminds him before he can leave the dining room.

He backtracks, walking with eyes still on the TV before scooping up his trash and hustling to the trash can in the pantry as quickly as he can, trying not to miss a word of what the announcer is saying.

“Thanks for dinner, Joey,” Dave says on his way back out to the guys.

All of the guys, having scarfed down their food in record time, are standing around the TV. It’s ridiculous to see them so animated over a damn game. We have two couches and a pair of recliners, but their asses won't meet the fabric until the final whatever is called to end the game.

“They should’ve just gone to the damn game if they’re that interested in it,” I mutter before popping a chip in my mouth.

“It’s not a home game,” Andi explains.

“And you know this why?”

She shrugs. “Baseball is important to me because it’s important to Jon.”

“That’s actually really sweet,” I praise with a grin.

I’ve been around the baseball-loving freaks my whole life, and I still don’t know shit.

“Plus I figured if I could recite stats he’d get so turned on he’d bone down.”

Bone down? I mouth with a chuckle.

“No luck?”

She shakes her head. “There’s just so much to learn. It’s making me doubt just how committed I am to him, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.”

“What do you think your mom would say if she were here?” She angles her head in the direction of the guys.

“She’d roll over in her grave if she knew they had that monstrosity in her living room.” I swallow the lump of old pain in my throat. “She’d murder all of them for wearing shoes in the house.”

The lump bypasses my throat and settles in my chest, renewed at the mention of my mom. I miss her so much. Losing her and then my dad less than six months later was brutal.

Noticing my shift in mood, Andi covers my hand with hers. “Sorry.”

I nod and commence doing what I always do when emotions get too thick.

“Hey, Tony, a little to the right.”

He doesn’t acknowledge me, but his body moves a foot or so.

“Can you bend down a little?”

Dave chuckles when Anthony bends his knees as if he thinks I’m having trouble seeing the game.

“No,” I correct. “Bend at the waist.”

He shrugs but does as directed.

Cooper is shaking his head, and my brother isn’t paying us any attention.

“Just like that,” I say with a seductive moan. “That ass. Those gray sweats.”

“Ladyboner,” Andi fills in.

His back straightens, stiffening as the guys start laughing.

“But seriously,” Andi whispers. “I could kiss the guy who invented them.”

“He must not be going to the Tavern after the game since he’s in sweats,” I complain.

“We can convince him, or get Dave to make him go,” Andi offers as a solution. “You can face him, and I’ll pretend to trip and fall and yank them down.”

“That’s basically sexual assault.”

“Accidental sexual assault.” She wags her eyebrows.

The guys roar at some play on the TV. High-fives and fist-pumping from the lot of them make me smile. When it comes to baseball, they’re more like little kids excited to go bowling or something, not grown men watching other grown men hitting things with a damn stick.

“Stop flirting with me, Tony.”

Dave laughs again while Cooper watches Anthony’s face for his reaction. I hate that I can’t see it.

The game continues, and my taunts become more frequent. I’m probably bordering on actual harassment at this point, but I can’t seem to stop. He’s been here for two hours, and other than the nod I got over the baked beans and moving when he thought he was blocking the TV, he hasn’t acknowledged me at all.

This has never happened before, and it’s actually starting to give me a complex.

“Tony,” I coo. Andi immediately begins to laugh. “I’ll play with your bat and balls.”

“A little too far, Jo,” Jon mutters as he walks toward the hall and disappears.

I’m out of control, not bothering to heed my brother’s warning.

“Come on, Tony. I’m lonely. How about some dugout action?”

He turns now, eyes narrowed.

“Oh shit,” Cooper snaps when Anthony storms toward me.

I’m certain he’s going to get in my face and tell me to shut the hell up, but he doesn’t.

His hand reaches up, gripping a handful of my messy hair as he tugs my head back. The next second his mouth is on mine, lips pressing, tongue begging for entrance. I give it immediately, and he takes and takes and takes.

He tastes like beer and the salt from the chips he’s eaten, and I never want him to stop.