Page 70 of The Goat in the Bedroom
What the fuck? Why was he winking at my brother?
Flynn grinned back and gave him a thumbs up.
“Hey, Artie,” Tyson said, producing a bouquet of gerbera daisies from behind his back. “These are for you. I remembered you mentioned they were your favorites.”
When had she mentioned that? I didn't even know those were her favorites.
“Aww,” Artie's face lit up. “Tyson, that's so thoughtful.”
“Just wanted to brighten your day,” he said, and was that a flex? Did he just unconsciously flex while handing her flowers?
Then, and I swear this was not an accident, he knocked over his water bottle all over his shirt.
“Oh man,” he said, pulling at the wet fabric. “This is soaked through. Mind if I...” And then he was pulling his shirt off in my kitchen, revealing those absolutely ridiculous abs that looked like they were carved by angels who majored in architecture.
“Oh my,” Nana said from the doorway. “That's a very fit young man.”
“Abuela approves,” AbuelaNovela added with an appreciative whistle.
Flynn was turned away, but I could see his shoulders shaking. Was he laughing?
“I'll get you a towel,” Artie said, but she wasn't moving. She was staring at Tyson's chest like it held the secrets of the universe.
“I've got an extra shirt in my car,” Tyson said. “But first, want me to help move that couch? Looks heavy.”
He then proceeded to help rearrange our living room furniture, shirtless, flexing with every lift, while Artie watched and I died inside. Flynn and Tyson kept making eye contact, and at one point I swear Flynn mouthed “nice” when Tyson did a particularly unnecessary muscle flex while moving an ottoman that weighed maybe ten pounds.
“Your roommate is very strong,” Coach observed, settling into his newly positioned chair.
“He's not my roommate,” I said. “He's just a teammate.”
“I meant Artemis,” Coach said, pointing to where Artie was now helping Tyson move the coffee table. “Look at those arms.”
Right. Artie. My actual roommate. Who was currently admiring my shirtless teammate's abs from very close range.
“Gryff,” Artie called out, and I was instantly at her side because I had no self-control. “Come outside with me for a second?”
She led me to the front porch where a pet carrier was complete with a bow on top.
“Happy birthday,” she said, suddenly shy. “I know we said no big gifts, but I couldn't resist.”
She opened the carrier and out walked the most perfect baby goat I'd ever seen. Black and white spotted, with one ear that flopped sideways and eyes that looked like they held wisdom beyond his weeks.
“This is Vincent Van Goat,” she said, picking him up and placing him in my arms. “He's ten weeks old, he was bornwithout one ear, and he absolutely needs a home with someone who'll love him exactly as he is.”
Vincent looked up at me and bleated softly, then immediately tried to eat my shirt.
“Artie,” I breathed, falling completely in love with this little creature. “He's perfect. I have something to give you too.”
“But it’s your birthday. I don’t understand.” she replied as I tucked Vincent under my arm like a football and took her hand to lead her around the house into our fenced in backyard.
“Wait,” she said, looking around.. “Is that... did you build a goat pen?”
I grinned, walking over to where I'd set up a professional-grade goat pen, complete with a wooden shelter that looked like a tiny barn. “I may have known about your surprise. The rescue called to confirm the home visit.”
“Gryff, you ruined my surprise.”
“No, I enhanced it. Because...” I opened the door to the little barn, and out trotted Holly Goatlightly, smaller than Vincent, a tawny brown with a white spot that resembled a heart on her forehead. “Meet Holly Goatlightly. She's Vincent's best friend from the rescue. They're bonded, can't be separated.”
