Chapter 21 #2
“Guys,” Jaxson interrupted, his voice carrying that authoritative tone that always made something flutter in my stomach like I’d swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies. “Not now.”
The blond girl looked between them, clearly trying to follow the rapid-fire exchange. “Um, anyway,” she said, turning her attention back to Xander. “We were just wondering if you’d be at the bar next weekend. There’s supposed to be some big event.”
“Got it covered,” Xander assured her. “But if you ladies will excuse us, our food’s getting cold.”
The dismissal was clear enough that even they couldn’t miss it. The blonde pouted again but retreated with her friends, though not before slipping Xander what looked like her number on a napkin. He took it with a polite nod but immediately set it aside, reaching for his drink instead.
“Smooth,” Wei commented, his eyes tracking the girls’ retreat. “Though I notice you didn’t mention you’re not interested.”
“Professional courtesy,” Xander replied with a shrug. “They tip well.”
“They’re fake,” Nico said, finally looking up from his game again. “That redhead couldn’t even keep her shirt on right.”
“Not everyone has your extensive gaming knowledge, Nico,” Colt said dryly. “Though your complete indifference to her rather obvious… presentation… was almost impressive.”
Nico looked genuinely confused. “What? Her boobs? They’re just boobs, dude.
I see way better ones in my games all the time.
” He held up his Switch, showing a female character with physically impossible proportions.
“See? Way more epic. Plus, these ones can actually fight dragons and don’t pretend to know what an RPG is. ”
I nearly choked on my soda, caught between laughter and disbelief.
Nico’s obliviousness to real-life female attention was either the world’s greatest act or genuine cluelessness of epic proportions.
Either way, it was hilarious watching these girls crash and burn against the immovable object that was Nico’s gaming focus.
“And that,” Xander said, “is why you’re still single.”
“I’m single because girls take up too much time,” Nico replied, already back to button-mashing. “Like, my raid team needs me four nights a week. What girl’s gonna be cool with that? Plus, they always want to talk about feelings and stuff when I could be leveling up my mage.”
“A tragedy of our times,” Wei intoned solemnly, though his eyes danced with amusement. “Choosing digital boobs over real ones.”
“If those are the real ones on offer”—Nico nodded toward the retreating girls—“I’ll stick with the digital ones. At least these don’t try to fake-game to get my attention.”
I couldn’t help it—I burst out laughing, nearly snorting soda through my nose in the process. The mental image of Nico turning down actual human women for his pixelated waifus was too much.
“Careful there, Little Fox,” Wei warned, though he was grinning too. “Carbonated beverages through the nasal passage is a special kind of pain.”
“Look what you did,” Jaxson scolded, though his lips were twitching as he handed me a napkin. “You broke Lan.”
“Not broken,” I managed between gasps. “Just… Nico… boob comparison…”
“What? It’s true,” Nico defended, not looking up from his game. “Digital ones don’t need, like, emotional support and dinner dates and stuff. They just need you to beat the final boss.”
“This is why I don’t bring you to social functions,” Colt muttered, though I caught the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. “You have the social awareness of a particularly dense brick.”
“Says the man who color-codes his sock drawer,” Xander shot back. “Because that’s totally normal human behavior.”
“Organization is efficient,” Colt replied primly. “And my system ensures optimal sock pairing for any occasion.”
“He has a spreadsheet,” Nico stage-whispered to me. “With sock thickness ratings and weather appropriateness factors. It’s like, super weird.”
“It’s a simple matrix,” Colt defended, looking genuinely offended. “And it’s saved countless minutes of decision-making time.”
“Minutes you then spend adjusting your spreadsheets,” Jaxson pointed out, his arm shifting behind me again, fingers brushing against my shoulder in a way that sent little shivers racing down my spine like I’d been zapped with a miniature lightning bolt.
Each touch seemed to strengthen that strange connection between us, like invisible threads pulling tighter. “Very efficient.”
I was acutely aware of how close he was sitting, how his thigh pressed against mine every time he shifted.
On my other side, Xander was no better, his shoulder bumping mine with deliberate casualness every time he reached for his drink.
I felt like a particularly small boat caught between two competing tides, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to be rescued.
Which was… concerning. To put it mildly. Like “maybe I should be concerned about my mental health” levels of concerning.
“I see the Sinclair brother bickering championship is in full swing,” Wei observed, his knowing eyes sweeping over us. “Though the defensive formation is new. Very… protective. Almost like instinct is taking over.”
I frowned, not understanding what he meant until I looked around and realized how they’d positioned themselves—Jaxson and Xander on either side of me, Colt directly across, all of them angled slightly toward me like some kind of human shield against the rest of the food court.
“We’re not being protective,” Colt denied, though the way his eyes tracked a group of college guys who were clearly checking out our table suggested otherwise. “We’re being efficient with limited seating.”
“Mm-hmm,” Wei hummed, clearly unconvinced. “And I’m sure the death glares you’re sending to every male under thirty who looks this way are just your resting face.”
“That actually is his resting face,” Nico chimed in helpfully. “It’s the ‘I will organize your entire life and judge you for your sock choices’ look. Very effective for crowd control.”
Colt’s expression somehow managed to become even more judgmental. “At least I don’t look like I’ve been electrocuted,” he shot back, eyeing Nico’s perpetually disheveled hair. “Did you even brush that mess this morning?”
“It’s called style,” Nico defended, running a hand through his hair and somehow making it stand up even more. “Some of us don’t iron our t-shirts.”
“Some of us don’t want to look like we slept in a wind tunnel,” Colt countered.
“Children, please,” Jaxson intervened, though his lips were curved in amusement. “We’re in public.”
“Like that’s ever stopped them,” I muttered, earning a gentle squeeze on my shoulder from Jaxson that sent my pulse racing embarrassingly fast. That warm connection between us flared again, comforting and exciting all at once.
Seriously, at this rate I was going to need cardiac medication before I hit twenty-five.
I was mid-laugh when I spotted them—the library stalkers.
My personal trio of persistent admirers who always seemed to materialize whenever Bree and I were studying, finding excuses to sit at nearby tables and steal glances that they probably thought were subtle but had all the stealth of a fireworks display in a library.
“Oh God,” I muttered, instinctively shrinking in my seat. “Don’t look now, but my campus fan club just walked in.”
Of course, telling four overprotective brothers not to look was like telling a cat not to push things off tables. All heads swiveled in perfect unison toward the entrance where Ryan and his two sidekicks were scanning the food court.
“The guys by the pretzel stand?” Nico asked, actually putting down his game for once. “The ones who keep ‘accidentally’ dropping books near your table? Bro, they’re like your own personal stalker squad.”
“They’re not stalkers,” I hissed, though the pile of “accidentally” misplaced notes in my textbooks suggested otherwise. “Just… persistent. And annoying. And—crap, they’ve spotted me.”
Ryan’s face lit up with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for finding money on the sidewalk. He nudged his friends and started heading our way, his trajectory locked on me like a heat-seeking missile. Then his eyes shifted to Xander, and his steps faltered in confusion.
“Is that… Xander?” I heard him say to his friends, loud enough to carry to our table.
Xander’s head snapped up, his easygoing expression hardening as he recognized Ryan. “Great,” he muttered. “Just what we needed.”
“You know them?” Jaxson asked, his arm shifting behind me in a way that felt distinctly territorial. The air around us seemed to thicken, that strange warmth building between us as his protectiveness flared.
“Classmates,” Xander replied tersely. “Ryan’s in my Marketing Ethics seminar.”
Before anyone could say more, Ryan was at our table, his surprise at seeing Xander quickly masked by that confident smile that probably worked wonders on less discerning people than me.
“Lan! What are the odds?” he greeted me first, pointedly ignoring everyone else before giving Xander a casual nod. “Hey, Xander. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
The way he said it—like Xander was the interloper in this scenario—made something protective flare in my chest despite my irritation with my brothers’ earlier behavior.
“Ryan,” Xander acknowledged, his usually friendly tone distinctly cooler. “Small world.”
Ryan’s eyes darted between us, clearly trying to figure out the connection. “You two know each other?”
The confusion on his face would have been comical if it wasn’t so annoying. What, did he think he had some kind of exclusive rights to talk to me?
“Xander’s my brother,” I said before anyone else could answer, some perverse part of me enjoying the shock that spread across Ryan’s face.
“Your… brother?” Ryan’s eyes widened comically. “But you’re—” He gestured vaguely at my face, then at Xander’s, apparently trying to reconcile our different appearances.