Deal Takers (Dealing with Love 2)

Brody, undeterred by my snark as always, scoots closer and offers my bottle back.

“Thanks,” I grumble, even though the damn drink is mine. I take a sip and pass it back to him. Before you ask, no, I don’t know why I just did that.

He leans back and looks over the crowd gathered on the deck. “So, here’s a question for you: Why do all of your brothers look like linebackers?”

“Pft, that’s ridiculous,” I scoff. “Only one of them is.”

“What?”

I point to the elder brothers. “Junior’s the only one that went to the NFL—he’s a middle linebacker for the Colts. George played in college but he’s an attorney now.” I move my finger to the younger three. “Joey’s a receiver for Ohio State and Calvin plays soccer for Clemson. Emmett, always the odd man out, chose to play with pucks instead of balls. He’s a forward for Toronto.”

Brody chokes a little on the sip he was taking. “Are you trying to tell me that four of your five brothers are professional athletes?”

“No,” I refute. “The twins have two more years of college before they can even think about going pro. My mom would kill them if they didn’t get their degree first.”

His eyes widen. “Holy shit! I knew that guy looked familiar. Junior’s real name is Martin, right?”

“Yep,” I confirm. “He’s named after my dad.”

“Why am I just finding out about this? Your brother is on my Madden roster for shit’s sake!”

“I don’t know,” I shrug. “It’s not like we spend a lot of time together.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Are you high? We see each other all the time.”

“Yeah, but in a group setting. It’s not like we ever get any quality time.”

“Well, that can be easily arranged,” he wags his eyebrows suggestively.

Jesus, this guy can never resist an opening.

“Taken, remember?” I wiggle my ring finger for emphasis.

He drains the rest of the bottle. “I’m still not convinced you mean that.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“So, I’ve heard,” he laughs.

“Rainey, heads up!” Junior shouts, right before a football nails me in the chest.

“Holy shit!” I yelp as I grab my aching breast. “I think you broke my boob, dumbass!” I aim for Junior’s nutsack and whip the ball. Sadly, he sees it coming from a mile away and catches it before I can make contact.

“Are you okay?” Brody asks, choking back laughter.

“Your concern would be a lot more convincing if you weren’t laughing it up right now.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’m always concerned about your tits.” He punctuates his statement by staring at said tits.

“Oh my God, do you ever quit?” I throw my hands up, wincing when I feel the pain.

Junior interrupts before Brody can reply. “You okay, kiddo? Joey was supposed to catch that.”

“I’ll be fine,” I mutter. “Give me some more alcohol and things will be just peachy.”

“That I can do,” Brody offers as he stands.

Junior sizes him up. “Who’s your friend, Rain?”