Page 23 of Choose Me

He bangs his forehead against my sternum a few times. “But it makes me feel weak. I wanted to prove I could do this myself. I should have been able to.” The frustration in his voice is like a gut punch.

“So it didn’t happen tonight. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be able to handle the next situation yourself.”

Bed-head comes back with our shoes and slams them on the counter, making Jules jump. I turn and grab the three pairs of bowling shoes as well as Jules’ street shoes, glaring and daring the asshole to complain. Not surprisingly, he doesn’t.

I sling an arm over Jules’ shoulders and guide him through the crowd toward our friends. I should take my arm from around Jules’ shoulders so Stef doesn’t see. But if Jules is finding any comfort from my support, then I want him to have it. I don’t want to make either of them upset, but Jules needs me right now, so I leave my arm where it is.

Stef glances over and frowns just like I feared, and I hurry to explain. “The guy at the desk is a dick and really upset Jules.”

Without hesitation, Stef hurries over and pulls Jules into a hug. “Oh sweetie! Are you all right?”

Jules nods and drops his eyes to the floor. “Yeah, I’m fine. The guy was an ass, but Erik took care of it.”

Stef smiles at me, gratitude and relief visible on his face. “Good thing we have him with us!”

I hand Stef his shoes and drop into one of the plastic chairs, wincing as I bang my elbow. With more grace than I just displayed, Jules sits next to me. “You okay?” He motions to my arm.

“Yeah. I’m fine. These little plastic chairs aren’t made for people my size.” In truth, most furniture isn’t. “I just banged my funny bone. No big deal.” I hand him his two pairs of shoes and drop mine onto the floor.

He winces in sympathy and fiddles with the laces on the rentals. “Thanks. For helping me.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime. Sorry if I was too aggressive with that guy. If you ever want me to back off, just tell me. I know my size can be intimidating, but I don’t mean to scare people.” The jerk behind the shoe rental counter and Jules’ new boss come to mind and I modify my statement. “Most people.”

Jules leans closer, his hazel eyes more brown in the neon lighting, but no less beautiful. “I promise I’ll tell you if you overstep. But you haven’t. And for what it’s worth, I like how big you are.”

I raise an eyebrow, and he blushes, covering his face with his hands. His shoulders shake and for a minute I think he’s crying, but then his hands drop and his laughter echoes across the lanes. I grin, relieved he’s not upset. “You okay?” But Jules is laughing way too hard to answer. He’s doubled over, shaking our interconnected chairs as tears stream down his cheeks. He takes a breath and sits up, trying to get control of himself, but then he looks at me and bursts into laughter again.

By now, we’ve drawn attention to ourselves, and I glance around at our friends. Stef has one eyebrow arched and all I can do is shrug. He rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “All right, I have teams all planned. As soon as my brother gets control of himself we’ll get started.”

Jules manages to rein in the laughter, wiping away his tears and slumping in the chair like he’s exhausted. I pat his thigh. “You okay now?”

“Yeah. I think that was some kind of tension release.” He bites his lip like he’s trying to keep from laughing again, and my gaze locks onto his mouth.

“So!” My focus snaps back to Stef. ‘It’ll be Quinn, Tadhg and me on Team Sass, and Jules, Erik, and Jocelin on Team Fabulous.’ My jaw drops. Did Stef really just put us on the same team? I glance at Jules, who is doing a better job of schooling his features, though I can tell he’s as surprised as I am. But no way am I going to complain about it. ‘Team Sass has the left lane and Team Fabulous is on the right.’ There’s a small scramble as we all get to our designated lanes.

When Jocelin walks past I hold out my hand. “Hey. Good to see you again. Sorry I didn’t say hello before. I had to take care of something.”

He shakes my hand and glances at Jules, then grins at me. “Something, or someone?” My cheeks burn, and I dart a glance at Stef, but he’s busy getting his own team in order. “It’s no problem. Your priorities were correct, and no offense taken. It’s good to see you again, too.”

Jules wanders over, his mouth squinched into an adorable pucker. “I’m warning you both now. I’m not very good, so sorry in advance.”

“Well, I’m sure the aim here is to have fun and hang out. It’s not a competition, no matter what your brother says.” I wink at him. “Plus, I’m not a bad bowler. I can give you a few tips.”

“Oh, thank god.” Jocelin claps me on the shoulder. “Perhaps you can give both of us tips because I’m not so very good either.”

“Sure. not a problem.” Maybe Stef put the three of us on the same team because he knew I could help them. When I glance his way, Stef is watching Jules with a frown. He turns to me and for a moment I worry he’s changed his mind and will separate us. Instead, he waits until Jules is looking the other way, then mouths, “Is he okay?” I nod, and that seems to be good enough.

Relieved, I sit next to Jules and pull off my boots, sliding them under the chairs before putting on the incredibly ugly and uncomfortable bowling shoes. “Why do they purposely make these so damned hideous? And they have zero arch support. It’s like wearing a strip of cardboard on your feet. What’s the point?”

Jules gently bumps my shoulder with his and gives me a genuine smile. “You’ve been back less than a week and Stef’s rubbing off on you already.”

Stef floats by, pink bowling ball in hand. “I’m a wonderful influence. Everyone thinks so. Now both of you hurry up and grab your balls!”

Jules’ juvenile grin matches mine. We fight another wave of laughter as our inner twelve-year-olds take great delight in the suggestive comment. There is no doubt in my mind that it was intentional. I wave Jules to go ahead. “You heard the man. Let’s go grab our balls.”

Jules bites his lip and chokes back a laugh. “I know where mine are. If you’ve lost yours, that’s your problem.”

I want to say something like ‘maybe you could help me find them,’ but that might be taking the joke a bit too far. Especially since Stef is only about six feet away. We wander toward the racks of alley-supplied bowling balls, dutifully lifting a few to try out the weight. I find one I like, though it’s in an unfortunate neon lime color, and Jules picks an electric blue one. “The same guy who designed the shoes must have been in charge of the ball colors. What’s wrong with basic black?”

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