Page 11 of Tempting the Player
I pull my hat down low over my eyes as I take a seat across from the music building to wait until the next class. My brothers don’t know this is where I spend my days. They think I’m in Valley crashing for a few months after a long, disappointing football season. They’re only partly right.
* * *
I’m emptying the dishwasher when Knox and Flynn get home.
“Hey,” I say as they walk through the living room. “Have a good day?”
Knox grunts and Flynn mutters, “It was fine.”
The latter immediately disappears into his room, slamming the door behind him, and Knox plops down onto the couch.
“Want a beer?” I call as I close the dishwasher.
“Nah. I’m going to shower and then take the bike out.” He untucks his work shirt, then removes his ball cap and tosses it onto the coffee table. He lets his head drop back for a few seconds and then groans as he quickly hops to his feet.
“I keep meaning to ask how that’s going. Are you doing any local races?”
I had my suspicions that the long days working and being the primary caretaker of our brothers had taken a toll on him and the professional racing career he’d dreamt of, but he never says much via text.
“Not really.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Are you staying in tonight?”
I hesitate, wondering if he’s going to invite me out. Since coming back, I haven’t spent a lot of time with any of them one-on-one and maybe that’s exactly what we need.
“Flynn needs a ride to a buddy’s house later,” he says when I don’t answer.
Ah, he doesn’t want to hang out, he wants to make sure I can chauffeur our little brother. Once upon a time we were close, but now he has this wall up and it’s hard to get any straight answers from him. If he won’t talk to me about motorcycles, then I’m officially out of ideas to connect with him.
“If you’re busy, I can—”
I cut him off. “No, it’s fine. I’m not going anywhere.”
5
HENDRICK
“Call from Archer,”the robotic voice announces, interrupting the loud music playing in my ears.
I tap my ear bud to accept and place my free hand on the bag in front of me to steady it. “Arch?”
“No, it’s Brogan.” His voice is barely audible over the background noise. “Arch is currently unavailable.”
“I’m available. I’m so fucking available,” I hear my brother shout.
“Is he wasted?” I ask.
“He might have had a little too much to drink. Are you busy? Our sober ride is taking forever and I’m not sure how much longer before he passes out cold.”
I push the bag away with a sigh. “Where are you?”
Five minutes later I pull up in front of the address Brogan recited. Cars line the street in both directions. Instead of looking for a parking space, I flip on my hazards and get out. I pass a guy in a red Jeep doing the same thing. He gets out of the driver’s seat, takes a sip from a silver flask, and then slides it into his front jeans pocket. He gives me a head nod as he leans against the front of his vehicle and pulls out his phone.
I can hear the party going on in the back of the house and a few more people are coming and going, but my brother and his best friend are easy to spot. Brogan is holding up a smiling Archer as he sings an old Nirvana song, loud and perfectly on key. He has a pretty good voice considering his hearing loss.
“Dear god, you reek,” I say as I get close enough to get a big whiff of the alcohol and beer clinging to them like a second skin.
“Henny!” Arch throws both arms up in the air and then stumbles forward.
I catch his fall and hold him up. “Hey, Arch.”
