Page 46 of Words I Couldn't Say
He leaned in close again. “You kiss Tuckeralllllllllllllthe time,” he said, dragging the word out for dramatic emphasis. “Flynn said so. He told me you’ve been kissing Tucker since I was a baby.”
“And?” I asked, wondering what the heck was going to come out of his cute, little six-year-old mouth.
“And…yep. Just like Eli said, it’s gross!”
“Why is it gross?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Exactly. Don’t you kiss Mom?” I asked, knowing full well he did.
He thought it over for a moment. “Yeah, but that’s different. I just give her pecks. Daddy’s the one who sucks her face off.”
I was barely able to contain my snicker. I’d grown up with Sierra and Jeremy Banks. A Sierra and Jeremy Banks who had given me little brothers, two of whom had come in my teen years. I totally felt the kid’s pain.
“It’s okay, Pace. When you get older, and I mean much, much older, you’ll find a girl whose face you want to suck off, too.”
Pacey flung the comforter back and jumped off the bed. He darted out of the room, almost running into Dad’s legs. My cheeks flushed at the sight of him.
“So…how much of that did you exactly hear?” I asked.
Dad grinned at me. “Enough to know that, when Pacey’s old enough to need the ‘birds and bees’ talk, I’m calling you.”
I threw a pillow at him, which he dodged expertly. He was kind of used to the move from my angsty teenage years.
“No way, Dad. You did such a stellar job with Flynn and me that it wouldn’t be fair for Eli and Pacey to miss out.”
His shoulders shook with laughter at, I was sure, the memory of how horrified I had been the first time my parents had explained how a new baby brother had come to be. It’s one thing to hear it from your science teacher. It’s another thing entirely when your eight-months-pregnant mother is explaining what Daddy did to create another one of life’s miracles.
It was no wonder I was a virgin until I was twenty-three.
“It worked with you. Your brother?” He ran a hand over his face. “Girls already call for him all the time. Maybe I need to knock your mom up again.”
Speak of the devil. Mom was standing behind Dad, carrying a load of laundry. She set the basket on my floor before placing her hands on her hips and mock-glaring at him.
“Jeremy Banks, I’ve already carried four of your babies. My baby-making factory is closed for business.”
Flynn walked in to catch the tail end of that.
She turned and winked at me before glancing back at Dad. “But I’m all about practicing.”
Flynn’s nose wrinkled as he plopped down next to me on the bed. “You’re so lucky you’re gone.”
I snorted. If he only knew. “Actually, Flynn, I’m realizing how much I’ve missed this. All of it.”
When he faced me, I was in awe at how much he resembled our dad. The older he got, the more his childlike features faded. Dad was right. They were going to have their hands full with Flynn.
“When you head back to California, can I have your room?”
I studied him for a moment. It was kind of surprising he hadn’t already taken it over, especially with how much he complained about a lack of privacy. As much as I didn’t want to give it up, I knew I’d never live in that home again. It seemed selfish to hold on to a room when it could be put to good use by my brother.
“That depends. Did you mean what you said about baseball being more important than girls?”
“Uh, yeah. I don’t have time for girls. Plus, can you imagine me bringing one over here? That’s embarrassment I don’t need in my life. I probably won’t even date until college just so I don’t have to introduce anyone to our parents.”
My lips twitched. I completely understood where he was coming from. I’d gotten off pretty easily with Tucker. An unknown girl with Mom’s oldest baby boy? I shuddered at the thought.
“Then yeah, Flynn. You can have my room.”
