Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(63)
Houston scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a laugh. “Jesus fuck, that’s awkward.”
“It wasn’t until just now.”
“Great, so I’m the straw man?”
“He’s not going to do anything with that information, I told you. He and Rams are tight, and he’d never out anyone.”
“And the two of you thought it was ‘funny’?”
I didn’t like the way Houston hung those air quotes. Looked a little too much like hooks. And then he smiled the smile I knew from growing up when he was about to lay down some big-brother fuckery.
“Houston.” I let a warning creep into my voice as his smile grew.
“Well, if he’s gonna keep staring, maybe I should give him something to watch.”
“Wait a second. Houston!” I snapped, but he’d already skirted past me, cackling as he walked back down the hallway.
Fuck.
“Want a little more?” Houston held the serving bowl of mashed potatoes over Ramsey’s plate, a solicitous smile on his face that Ramsey side-eyed before saying, “Sure, if you’re offering. I can also do it myself?”
“Nah, I gotcha.”
Ramsey had done a double take when Houston had pulled out a chair for him at the dining table when we’d sat down for dinner. Now he glanced over at me with growing suspicion in his expression. I hadn’t had time to warn him before Mom had called us all to dinner.
I cut a sharp glance at Tucker who, sure enough, was paying shrewd attention to their exchange. I saw the realization dawn in Ramsey’s eyes, and he hitched one shoulder and smiled. “Thank you.”
Houston piled more mashed potatoes on Ramsey’s plate and then shoved the bowl toward me and Tucker. “You two are on your own.”
Damn, was I ever.
“You were on fire against KC, Warner,” Dad said, cutting into a slice of turkey. “Think the Rush can hold Miami off next week?”
“Definitely. Our defense is doing great.” He stumbled to a pause as Houston stretched his arm casually along the back of his chair, then cleared his throat. “We—”
A low growl rumbled up my throat as Houston rested his fingers lightly on Ramsey’s shoulder. I pounded my chest and coughed loudly. Houston’s fingers retreated, but his smile grew by a fucking mile.
“Sorry. Bone. Gristle,” I gritted out, then grabbed my glass of water and chugged it.
“Give me your plate, I’ll get you another piece.” Mom reached out her hand. “There shouldn’t be any gristle in there. Dale, I told you to make sure there wasn’t any gristle.”
“I did.” Dad frowned.
I waved her off. “It’s fine now. I got it.”
“Mine’s gristle-free.” Houston smacked his lips. “G probably just forgot how to swallow again.”
I wanted to disown him. Could you disown brothers? I was pretty sure you could. “Believe me, I know how to swallow.”
“Not what I’ve heard,” Ramsey chimed in.
Fucking Ramsey, he could fuck right off too. I glared at his smug smile.
“Boys.” Mom gave us a pained look and then angled toward Tucker. “Hope you weren’t expecting a classy Thanksgiving.”
Tucker laughed. “Nah, you should see what it’s like at my house. Shit-talk, I mean smack-talk, all the way. Feels just like home. This turkey is awesome, by the way.”
Houston picked up the green beans, serving spoon piled high as it hovered over Ramsey’s plate. “More beans?”
“I’d love some.”
The fucker continued dancing right on the edge of obvious all through dinner until even my parents were looking between the two of them in bewilderment.
“I need to go check on some stuff at the new place,” I said. “I’ll be back later.” We’d finished helping Mom wash the dishes. Tucker had left fifteen minutes ago, and the rest of us were sprawled half comatose in the living room, watching TV.
“I should probably get going too.” Ramsey let out a jaw-cracking yawn and stretched, and I sneaked a look at his abs as his shirt lifted.
Houston snorted softly and muttered under his breath, “Very subtle.”
Okay, it wasn’t subtle, but I did fully intend on going to check out my new place. I’d put in an offer for the Cedar Grove fixer-upper three days after seeing it, and had closed on it a week ago.
“I’ll deal with you later,” I fired back, and he chuckled, completely unconcerned.
“Can I go with you?” Ramsey asked as we walked toward our cars. He checked something on his phone and frowned, then tucked it away.
“You really want to? It looks the same as last time.” But inwardly, I was chuffed he’d asked. I loved the new place even in its retro state, loved that I had something to call my own. Look at me being a real adult.
Most of the time.
Out came Ramsey’s phone again. He pressed the side button as my brows pinched together.
“You can get that, you know.”
“No need.”
“Your dad?”
“Yep. He’s been blowing me up all afternoon, and I’m not dealing with him today.” He stuffed the phone in his pocket. “Anyway, yeah, I wouldn’t mind seeing your place again.” His smile turned mischievous. “With you.”