Lexie
Probably. Linc and Lucky were both gone when I left earlier.
Aurora
Damn.
Saylor
Umm . . . hellooo . . . You’re related to Lucky, and Linc is obviously not fair game.
Lexie
They’re men. Not Swedish fish at the movie theater you’re calling dibs on.
Aurora
Keep telling yourself your brother hasn’t been called, Lex. And I was bummed because Lucky has some hot friends. I was hoping one or two would happen to stop by.
Lexie
Do you want me to text them?
Aurora
Please . . .
Saylor
No.
Brea
Nope. Girls’ day, sleeping beauty.
Aurora
Fine. But you’re no fun.
Lexie
Okay, I’m walking into the grocery store. See you guys later.
Lucky
“Ifucking hate golf. I don’t know why I let you talk me into this shit.” I grab Rome’s clubs from the back of Linc’s Jeep and toss them to my dickhead brother, then shoulder my own bag.
“Don’t be a bitch just because you suck,” he laughs and fist-bumps Linc.
Assholes. Both of them.
“Dude. You’ve got to relax. It’s supposed to be fun.” Linc throws me his golf bag and shrugs. “Help me get the top on the Jeep. It’s supposed to storm tonight.”
“Fuck you, man,” I grumble, knowing full well I sound like a sore loser.I’m not.I just fucking hate golf. But as the clouds roll in, we make quick work of getting the top back on the damn Jeep so Linc doesn’t cry about his baby getting wet. Sinclairs and their babies.
I never knew I’d be jealous of a kitchen appliance, but the way Lexie ran her hand over the pink mixer yesterday made me want to switch fucking places with it, and that’s a problem.
“You got any food?” Rome asks as he ignores Linc and me locking the soft top in place. “I smell BBQ.”