Page 125 of Play the Game
“Kitchen,” I yell, tossing a dishtowel over my shoulder and grabbing a spatula with one hand and a whisk I don’t need with the other. I’m in it now, so I might as well commit. I kind of wish I had an apron.
“Uh, what the fucking fuck am I looking at? What are you doing?”
Pasting a nonchalant expression on my face, I turn at Elliot’s voice to find all three of my brothers frozen in the kitchen doorway, Evan standing behind them, looking gorgeous with her blonde hair piled on top of her head and her blue eyes sparkling, fuzzy pink slippers on her feet and beaming at me like this is the most fun she’s ever had. Winking at her, I turn my attention to Noah, Elliot, and Jordan, all of whom are staring at me like I have six heads. “I’m making lunch.”
“You’re…huh?” Noah says, his tone bewildered.
“What part of that was confusing to you?” I ask, biting my cheek to keep from smiling when Evan snorts, slapping a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
“Uh, the part where you’re cooking,” Jordan says. “You can’t cook.”
I shrug casually, gesturing to the stove. “All evidence to the contrary.”
“But…how?” Elliot’s gaze bounces from the stove to me. “Did you take cooking classes or something?”
“Nah, just something I picked up along the way.”
I’m practically biting my tongue in half, trying harder than I ever have in my life not to laugh while I watch my brothers—the three smartest people I know—try to figure out what the fuck is happening right now. Nothing I could have planned to reveal my big secret could possibly be better than this.
“How long?” Jordan finally asks.
I make a big show of turning around to check the quesadillas, and when I find them done, I turn off the burner and flip them onto two plates. Slicing one into four neat pieces with a pizza cutter, I add guacamole to the plate and walk past my brothers, casually handing the plate to Evan. I squeeze her hip, feeling her practically vibrate with the effort of holding in her laughter. “This is the best day of my life,” she mumbles.
Grinning, I bend and kiss her cheek. “How long what?” I ask, turning back to my brothers.
“How long have you been able to cook?” Noah demands.
I shrug again, smirk breaking free. “Like, twenty years, give or take a few.”
“What. The. Fuck.” Elliot gives me the most accusatory look I have ever seen. “Mom, get in here,” he yells.
“Shit,” I mutter, suddenly feeling a healthy dose of fear because there’s no way Pam Wyles isn’t going to exact her vengeance for this little act of subterfuge.
“Shit is right,” Jordan says. Crossing his arms over his chest, he spins to glare at Evan. “Did you know about this?” he demands.
Evan puts her hands on her hips and stares right back at him. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Jord. Know aboutwhat, exactly?” she asks in her very bestquestioning the witnessvoice, and I have never loved her more.
“What’s happening in here?” my mom says, coming up behind Evan, Emmy tucked into one arm, glancing around at all of us. “Cooper, why are you holding a spatula, and is that a whisk? You don’t own a whisk.”
“I’ll tell you what’s happening here,” Noah says, whirling around to face my mom. “This asshole”—he points at me—“has been fucking with us for, like, two decades. He’s holding a spatula because he’s making lunch. I don’t know what the deal is with the whisk, but he’s making fucking lunch. There’s guacamole. We brought Chinese food for lunch because he can’t cook…but hecancook! He can really fucking cook and he’s been, like, pretending he can’t or some shit all this time.”
My mom stares at me, laser beams shooting out of her eyes, and if looks could kill, I would be extremely dead right now. “Is this true?” she asks in a voice that’s low and deadly.
“Well of course it’s true, Pammy.” Cece appears behind my mom, beaming out a smile. “Cooper is brilliant. You really think he’s been that bad in the kitchen all this time by accident?” She shakes her head. “That kind of ineptitude is all the way on purpose.”
My mom’s eyes bug out as she swings her gaze back to me, red curls swirling around her face, and that’s when I finally break. I bend at the waist as a laugh bubbles out of me, and I see Evan give up the fight too, holding her sides as she laughs hysterically. We both laugh until tears are streaming down our faces, my brothers looking on incredulously, and then, to my absolute shock, my mom tosses her head back and cackles.
“What the fuck?” Jordan mumbles.
Noah looks around with wild eyes, and Elliot frowns, his forehead furrowed like he’s trying to solve an unsolvable math problem.
My mom seems to get ahold of herself and opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out as she shakes her head anddissolves into laughter again, which sets Evan off a second time and then me.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?” Noah practically roars, stomping his foot like a toddler having a tantrum, which does nothing to stop my laughter.
“Uh, everything okay?” Everyone turns to the kitchen doorway where Jo, Amelia, and Hannah are standing shoulder to shoulder, looking around like they’re trying to find the source of Noah’s ire.
“Everything’s great,” I say, walking over and tossing an arm around Evan’s shoulders with a grin at the girls. “Noah’s upset because he just found out that I’ve been pretending I don’t know how to cook since we were kids. My mom seems to think it’s funny, and I think Cece has known all along, but I’m pretty sure my brothers may never speak to me again.”
