Houston turned off the game and sat back down. “I worried about that—him having trouble with Garrett. Nance doesn’t like it when someone is better than him, especially a rookie. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s homophobic.”
“Yeah, he’s been giving Garrett a hard time. Nothing too bad. He’s handling it.”
Houston nodded. “How’s he doing? Keeping his head in the game? He’s getting close with Cross. Are the two of them going out when you guys travel? All we need is another pregnancy scare like he had in high school.”
Well, shit. I hadn’t heard about that, but then why would I have? I hadn’t known the McRaes back then. “Make sure Garrett sticks to dudes. Check.”
“Make sure Garrett sticks to football,” Houston countered.
“He is. Cut him some slack, McRae. He’s got a better head on his shoulders than we gave him credit for. He’s doing his thing. I’m proud of him. Don’t ever tell him I said that, though.”
Houston chuckled, then leaned against the back of the couch on a sigh. He sank into the plush gray material and closed his eyes. “I’m proud of him too. I trust him. He’s just my little brother. It’s my job to bust his balls while also looking out for him. He can be impulsive sometimes. You think everything is fine, and then bam! He calls you from Wyoming because he and his friends were bored and went for a drive and, Oh shit, the car broke down and I have a game tonight. Can you hurry to come and get me?”
I couldn’t help noticing that most of the stories Houston had about Garrett were from high school or his first two years of college. Still, how many rookies had fame and fortune go to their heads? How many players fucked up and ruined their careers because they had their first taste of the lifestyle, money, and attention being in the NFL gave you? For someone who had a tendency to make rash decisions, it was a valid concern.
Except…that didn’t feel right when it came to Garrett. Just a few months ago I would have agreed with Houston, but now that I knew him better, now that I saw how hard he practiced and how much he loved the game, the puzzle no longer fit together. “Like you said, he’s your brother. It’s your job to worry, so I get it, but Garrett’s got his shit figured out. He’s still a cocky, flashy, hotheaded little bastard, but he’s got his head in the game. He got all pissy at me yesterday because he thought I stepped in with Nance just because it was him and—”
“Why are you smiling like that?”
Huh? I was smiling? “Because I like to think about your brother making a fool of himself?” I mean, that was partly true. His cheeks had been all pink in anger, a cute little scowl on his kissable lips.
“Good point. Just, be careful. You guys have gotten close, and Garrett’s always had a bit of a hero-worship crush on you.”
Hero worship? I couldn’t wait to tease G about that. “Can you blame the guy?”
“I’m serious. All we need is Garrett crushing on you his rookie season.”
Aaaaand, now I felt like the biggest prick on the planet. Houston had been my best friend for over four years, and I was hooking up with his brother behind his back?
I opened my mouth to tell him, to confess I was attracted to G and the two of us were friends with benefits. No big deal, right? But what came out was, “I want to fuck Garrett.” Followed by, “Shit. That’s not what I was supposed to say.”
Houston’s eyeballs damn near popped out of his head. “You wanna back up and start over? Because I’m pretty sure I missed a step.”
I leaned forward, rubbed a hand over my face, and groaned. This definitely wasn’t going as planned. “Let’s pretend I didn’t just say that—”
“You wanting to stick your dick in my brother? Bet. I’m down with scrubbing that from my brain.”
“Sorry.” I shrugged. “Every once in a while I have an open-mouth-insert-foot moment. What I was supposed to say is…good news! I’m finally exploring my sexuality. The questionable part is it’s with Garrett. Does that sound better?”
“Not the time for sarcasm, Rams.”
He had a point. “Listen…you know I’ve been attracted to men for a while. I was just stressed about getting outed or the whole thing turning into a sensationalized news story, so I kept that shit in check. But…I don’t know…he’s hot. He gets under my skin somehow. I bit his lip in a club, and then we were at a hotel and—”
“Oh my God. Shut up!” He shoved me. “What the fuck, Ramsey! He’s my brother. Gross.”
“He’s also sexy as hell.” I held up my hands in defense when he tried to push me again. “I’m sorry. He is. And his smart-alecky mouth makes it worse. The way we talk shit to each other really gets me all boned up.”