Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“Yeah. And his brother’s eighteenth birthday is coming up. He’s stressing because he doesn’t think their mom will call Brody,” Flip confides.
“Why wouldn’t his mom call on his birthday? Is she off the grid or something?” Tristan never talks about her. Ever.
“She only ever sends Tris a Christmas card. He hasn’t heard from her in years. I guess she was better with his younger brothers, but the past couple of years she’s missed Brody’s birthday, and she stopped sending cards and calling Nathan a few years back.”
“Geez. That’s awful.” I knew Tristan’s relationship with his mom wasn’t good, but I didn’t know it was this terrible. If my mom didn’t remember my birthday, I’d be heartbroken. No wonder he has so many walls.
“Yeah. She’s a real gem. Tristan tends to go all out for his brothers on their birthdays. He’s getting Brody a car.” Flip pulls into East Side’s parking lot.
“A car? A real one? Like vroom-vroom?” I pat the dashboard.
“Yup. He consulted with his dad and made sure it wasn’t something that would get Brody a million speeding tickets or anything. But he did it for Nate, so he’s doing it for Brody, too.”
“That’s sweet, even if it is a bit extra,” I say.
Flip and I exit the car and head for the restaurant. The smell of fresh bread and garlic butter instantly makes my mouth water.
“His mom is a waste of air. He’s trying to make up for it,” he says.
“I can see that. He’s doing his best to be a good brother.” He’s at one of Brody’s hockey games right now. This conversation sheds so much light on so many things. Those backwards hugs mean even more now. That’s Tristan letting his guard down.
Adelaide is our server again today. We plow through several bowls of salad and loaves of bread. Flip eats his entire meal, and I do what I always do, eat a few bites and save the rest for later. We still get dessert, though.
Afterwards, we head to the indoor glow-in-the-dark mini putt.
By the third hole, I’m kicking his butt. “For a professional hockey player, you sure suck at mini putt.”
Flip keeps overshooting. By a lot. He’s almost hit three people, and he can’t get the ball in the hole in fewer than seven tries. Even the five-year-olds are better than he is.
“Shh… You’re killing my concentration with all your smack talk.” He takes a few practice swings.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out. Tristan wants to know where I am and whether I feel like bouncing on his cock. Obviously, I’d love to, but seeing as I’m with my brother, who is still unaware that we’re fucking on the regular, sex will have to wait.
Rix
I already have my hands full with balls and sticks.
I snap a quick pic of my golf club and neon yellow ball and send that along.
Tristan
Is that glow-in-the-dark mini putt?
Rix
Yup
Tristan
Who are you with?
Rix
Flip
Tristan
Oh. Cool. I was two seconds away from plotting a murder FYI
Rix
Why I sent the photo.
*jellyfish gif*
He ignores the dig.
Tristan
Which location are you at?
Rix
The one close to Vaughn.
Tristan
I’m coming to play with balls too while I wait for you to play with mine
Rix
Uh. Maybe text Flip in five first, otherwise the jig is up????
Tristan
Right.
Rix
Got excited about having your balls slapping my chin later, eh?
Tristan
Maybe. *shifty eyes*
“Hey, Rix, you’re up.” Flip snaps his fingers.
“Right. Sorry.”
“Who are you texting?”
“Just the girls. We’re getting together sometime next week for dinner at Hemi’s.” This is not untrue, and they did text a couple of hours ago, but I told them I was with Flip and I’d catch up with them later.
“You’re spending a lot of time with those girls lately, eh?” Flip stands off to the side while I take my first putt and get it within a foot of the hole.
“Yeah. They’re great. And it was super nice of Hemi to help me get that interview.” I approach the ball and try to decide what angle to hit it from.
“I would’ve put in a word for you.” He almost sounds hurt.
“I know, but this feels less like direct nepotism. I’ve gotten more than enough legs up from you.” I miss the hole the first time, but now I’m only six inches away.
“But Mom and Dad funneled most of their savings into my hockey, so me helping you out is balancing the scales,” he argues.
“They saw your talent and were smart about making sure it was realized.” This time I get the ball in the hole. This is the hard part of growing up in a family where money was tight. Now that Flip is making a lot, he feels like he owes everyone something. We all knew he was going to be a shining star. Investing in his future was a sure thing.
“You have lots of talents, too. Like outside of financial planning, which you’re amazing at, you know exactly how to feed us for games. That’s a huge skill. Players pay a lot to have someone do what you’re doing for me and Tris. I had no idea you were good at that stuff. Well, that’s not entirely true. You could always cook. It’s like you were born to dominate the kitchen.” He makes a face. “Sorry, that probably sounds sexist.”