Chapter 15

Joey

“Where’s Andi?” Cooper asks as he passes by the sofa to get another beer.

“One of her employees called in. She couldn’t find a replacement, so she has to cover the shift,” I explain.

“That sucks,” Dave adds. “She should’ve finished school.”

Jon tenses beside me but doesn’t say anything. We all know that Andi’s focus on my brother played a large part in her not finishing college.

“We’re not having this conversation again, and especially when she’s not here.”

Jon grunts his approval.

“Hey, Joey?” Cooper calls from the kitchen.

“What’s up?” I answer. Jon turns his head and scowls at me for yelling in his ear.

“Need a refill?”

“As a matter of fact…” I hold my near empty wine glass up to him so he can pour more in. Knowing me so well, he was headed in my direction before he even finished his question. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he says before carrying the bottle back to the fridge.

“Where’s Anthony?”

Great question.

Focusing on the wine in my glass, I wait for someone to answer my brother’s question.

“He was still at his table when I left work earlier,” Dave answers from his sprawled position on the sofa opposite from ours. “Said he’d catch up with us some other time.”

Disappointment fills my gut.

It’s been nearly two weeks since the kiss that rocked my world. We’ve all been to the Tavern twice, watched three baseball games, and he hasn’t shown for any of them.

“He’s been picking up a lot of extra work at the office,” Dave continues.

“He’s actually into this shit?” Cooper asks angling his beer at the TV as he walks past to sit in the recliner.

Dave and I both laugh.

“He’s an architect, dumbass. He’s sort of required to like design shows.”

“Building shit is manly,” Cooper says as if he works manual labor and doesn’t spend his days behind a desk arranging magazine layouts. “Decorating shit with throw pillows and subway tile isn’t manly at all.”

Jon holds his beer up in salute.

“One,” I say addressing Cooper. “They build the stuff first, then decorate it.”

“Exactly,” Dave agrees.

“Two.” I turn my focus to my brother. “You teach math.”

“Not yet,” Dave grumbles at the reminder that while we’ve been working all summer, Brother Dearest hasn’t done shit but sleep and hang out at home.

“Math is sexy,” Jon assures me with a quick smile. “Chicks dig the fuck out of guys who know math.”

“Chicks don’t want to have to balance their own checkbooks,” I correct. Hell, most guys don’t either.

“Calculus, chemical formulas, and scientific equations are sexy, Joey,” Jon continues. “And graphs are some sexy things.”

Cooper chuckles and shrugs. “Makes me hard just thinking about a pie graph.”

“Pie makes you hard,” Dave corrects.

“Same difference,” Cooper says.

Chuckling, I focus back on the TV as the commercials fade away.

“Anthony’s on his way,” Dave says a few minutes later after looking at his phone. “Wants to know if we need anything?”

My brother says, “I think we’re good,” the same time Cooper says, “pie.”

My heart rate doubles. “It’s not a game night.”

“It’s always a game night,” Cooper corrects. “We’re just stuck watching this shit instead of the Cardinals playing the Mets.”

“There’s a rule,” my brother grumbles with irritation because he’s on the same side as Cooper.

“Thursdays are reserved for HGTV unless the Astros are playing, it’s the playoffs, or my shows are reruns. I get two hours a week. I have to suffer through countless hours of baseball.”

“And yet you still don’t know a damn thing about the game.”

I glare at Dave. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Shrugging, he types something on his phone before letting it settle on his chest upside down. I feel like the move is intentional even though I couldn’t begin to read his texts from this far away.

“I have money on the Mets,” Dave says.

“Dumb ass,” My brother chides.

“No baseball talk during Flip or Flop,” I hiss at all of them before focusing on Dave. “You have a huge TV at home remember?”

A loud knock on the door interrupts my next train of thought, and I realize that while arguing with the guys I forgot to get up and go change or hide out in my room completely.

“Was he standing outside or something?” I mumble drawing the attention of my brother.

“Huh?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I mutter.

“It’s open,” Cooper hollers from the recliner when no one else bothers to get up and open the door.

“Why doesn’t he just come right in?” Dave asks as if he pays the bills here.

“He has fucking manners,” my brother snaps. “Unlike you two.”

“Hey guys,” Anthony says as he steps inside of the house. He nods at me. “Is this the right kind?”

I turn my glare on Dave when Anthony holds up two bottles of my favorite wine.

“Why is he bringing you wine?” Jon asks.

“Dave texted, said he was out. He asked if I could grab a couple of bottles,” Anthony explains to my brother in a rush before looking at Cooper and pulling a Mrs. Baird’s apple pie from the pocket of his sweats. “They didn’t have the kind you wanted.”

Cooper catches the pie with a ‘thank you.’

“What kind of pie did he want?” Dave asks with a devious smirk.

Tony narrows his eyes. “I figured you meant boysenberry.”

“Nope. I made sure it didn’t autocorrect,” Dave says with a boyish chuckle.

“I’m not saying that.” Anthony looks at me briefly before turning his eyes back to Dave.

“But you’d say it if he wasn’t in the room?” Dave taunts.

Anthony shakes his head. “Probably not.”

Dave looks over at my brother who is just as confused as I am. “Cooper wanted pussy-berry pie.”

“Hell yeah,” Cooper says around a bite of apple pie that leaves crumbs on his chest.

“Cooper,” I warn. “You’re vacuuming before you leave. If I find a single crumb, you’ll eat at the table like Dave.”

He nods in understanding. I won’t find a damn thing because Cooper doesn’t want to be relegated to the dining room.

“Where, umm…fridge?” Anthony asks as he holds up both bottles of wine.

“Fridge would be great,” I tell him as Dave says, “Can you grab me a beer while you’re in there?”

“Make him get up and get it himself,” Jon advises after Anthony disappears around the corner into the kitchen.

When he comes back out, he’s holding several beers, handing them each one. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, man,” both Cooper and Jon tell him.

“Your glass was full,” Anthony says as he stands behind Cooper’s recliner and looks at the TV.

I grin, knowing with him this near, my glass won’t be full for long. Drinking, or better yet guzzling, will be my main focus for the rest of the night.

I can’t even look at him, all gorgeous and in those damn gray sweats again. Does he have any idea what they do to me? If he knew they made me stupid, like drool dripping down my chin stupid, would he still wear them?

“Have a seat,” Jon offers, sweeping his arm out and nearly hitting me in the face.

Dave stretches, taking up even more room on the sofa, which leaves the spot on my left the only readily available one.

I’m stiff as he relaxes into the couch, but the second his scent raids my nose, I’m a trembling damn mess.

Jesus, did he bathe in pheromones before coming over?

“Flip or Flop?” he asks.

I assume he’s speaking to everyone, so I don’t bother to answer. He’s too close, and my body is rebelling against me. Pulling the throw pillow from beside me, I attempt to cover the strain of my cock against my lounge pants.

“Only twenty more minutes of this shit,” Jon mutters. “Then we’re going to head outside and wreck Cooper’s new drone.”

“Sweet,” Anthony says as he tilts his bottle to his lips.

I try. I really do my best not to notice the grip of his hand on the brown glass or the veins on his forearm. I attempt to avoid the distraction of the dark dusting of hair on his skin, but my eyes, darting to the side, catch it all. His throat works to swallow the beer. His tongue sweeps out to lick a stray drop from his bottom lip. The upward tilt of his top lip when his eyes cut to the side and discover me watching him. I see it all.

Every bit of it makes me crazy. For the next fifteen minutes, I’m humming with uncalled for anticipation, counting down the seconds until I can make my escape. My cock is begging me to get up and leave now.

“Bedtime,” I say in excuse the second the credits begin to roll over the screen. “’Night y’all.”

They all mumble their goodnights, standing up as well. I expect the cops to come knocking before long if they spend too much time outside crashing that drone into everything like last time, but that will be Jon’s issue to deal with.

Shuffling into my bedroom, I grab everything I need for a quick shower just as I hear the front door close and the guys disappear on the other side.

Opening the door to my room, I run into a brick wall, one with a gorgeous smiling mouth and grabby hands.