Page 30 of Body Check

“I’ll make sure everyone’s on their best behavior,” Jesse promised, fluttering his lashes.

Hoyt scoffed. “I’ll believethatwhen I see it.”

“I’llmake sure of it,” Connor said.

Hoyt grinned. “Now that’s a promise I can trust.”

“Hey!” Jesse protested, but he was laughing, so Gavin didn’t think he took the chirp about his reliability too seriously.

With a grin and a wave, the coaches and most of the other support staff left.

Gavin glanced around. The table had essentially split into three groups. Those going to the hotel, those going to the club in WeHo, and the rest of the guys who hadn’t made any plans yet.

“Last call for WeHo!” Jesse said, and everyone who wanted to go dancing rose to their feet.

Twenty minutes later, it was a merry group who squeezed into the two ride shares Jesse and Connor had arranged for, and Gavin found himself sharing it with Danny, Leah, Dakota, and—to his surprise—his brother.

“I didn’t expect you to come out tonight,” he said as Thad squeezed into the middle row of the SUV beside him. Dakota was on his other side, body warm and lean.

“I do like dancing,” Thad said mildly. “I was surprisedyoudecided to come out though. I figured you’d be too boring to go.”

“Guess I was feeling a little bit reckless tonight,” he shot back.

“Careful, brother.” Thad met his gaze. “We know what happens when you’re feelingreckless.”

Gavin bit back the automatic retort that rose to his lips. “Yeah, same goes for you,” he reminded Thad instead.

But the SUV began to move, and Thad looked away. Gavin faced the front of the SUV and caught a glimpse of Dakota’s face, reflected in the rearview mirror, his quizzical expression smoothing out into something more neutral when he caught Gavin looking.

But Gavin couldn’t explain his relationship with his brother, not when he barely understood it himself. There were too many years of complicated history behind every interaction. Too many mistakes and missteps and bad decisions.

And for all that they were twins, they were astonishingly different.

It hadn’t always been quite so stark though. Growing up, Thad had been Gavin’s shadow. He’d always wanted to do everything Gavin did, wanted to be exactly like him, wanted them to be this inseparable unit, the two of them against the world. But Gavin had wanted his own identity, separate from his brother, and Thad had taken it as a rejection.

Now, here they were, barely on speaking terms.

And everything Gavin did to apologize for the way their lives had gone, for the twists and turns they’d both experienced, seemed to make it worse.

The thought made Gavin melancholy, weighing down the cheerful mood he’d had at dinner. He shifted, trying to get more comfortable.

“Sorry,” he said when he bumped Dakota for the umpteenth time. “Not sure I should have been the one to sit in the middle. I’m a little too wide for that.”

“You two should switch seats,” Thad said, peering around Gavin. “Or I could make room for you on my lap, Dakota.”

Gavin briefly fantasized about leaning over his brother, opening the side door, and pushing him out. They were in stop and go city traffic anyway. It wasn’t like it would cause anypermanentdamage, right?

But before he could respond, Dakota spoke. “Yeah, I’m good where I am,” he said firmly.

Gavin knocked his knuckles against Dakota’s thigh in appreciation for him standing up for himself. It was the only thing Thad would respect.

Dakota huffed out a soft laugh, and in the rearview mirror, Gavin could see him lifting his eyebrows in question.

Gavin shrugged, twisting again, still trying to get more comfortable.

“Here,” Dakota said softly. He leaned forward so Gavin’s shoulder could slip behind his. Dakota carefully leaned back, his shoulder blade pressing firmly against Gavin’s chest.

“That okay?” Gavin murmured, low enough hopefully Thad couldn’t hear it over the music playing.

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