Chapter 4 #3
We were almost nose-to-nose, like an adult version of a teenage face-off.
Our body language suggested we were squaring up, but for a fight with words, rather than fists.
That was a shame. I’d have preferred the latter, but that couldn’t happen, not in a fancy country club where anyone could film it on their cell phones.
I’d be out of the Patriots before the end of the day.
My expression darkened before I could mold my face into an ‘I couldn’t give a shit’ look. Jasper must have seen I was pissed off as he eyed my shoulder roll warily.
His face changed from needling to normal. “Look, we seem to have got on the wrong foot, and I partly blame myself. I’ve just never met a celebrity before. I didn’t know what to say, where to start.” He was lying.
I almost said. “You could have started by not being an asshole, but went with. “Not at all. We’re not that different, you and I?”
“Really, how so?”
“Well, I used to fence,” I pointed out, scratching my jaw before folding my arms across my chest. I needed to physically stop myself from breaking his nose.
His eyebrows rose, and he looked genuinely interested. “You did? I’m impressed. What rating were you?” Fucking preppy douchebag.
My frown and smirk materialised at the same time. “Rating? Oh, only misdemeanour level. Sorry, my version of fencing is probably different from yours.”
His mouth opened in shock, and my entire face lit up. Got ya! I was referring to my criminal background during my childhood. I’d been arrested for selling bootleg DVDs a few years after joining Ma, which hadn’t gone down well.
“What are you boys talking about?” Dominic Summers called across as he strode towards us, coming to his bitch’s rescue. Phoenix was with him with an expression that screamed ‘sorry for leaving you alone with a guy you want to maim.’
“Fencing, actually,” I replied calmly, lowering my arms. I noticed Summers was swinging a set of keys around.
“Ah, yes, great sport. I’d honed my parry to perfection before I put my back out,” he explained. As they both came to stop beside us, he added. “Anyway. Time to tee off. Since I had the lowest handicap during our last game, Jasper and I will give you boys the honor.”
I knew he was only being polite, but it pissed me off. I was a competitive fucker and needed no handouts.
“That means that you guys can go first,” Jasper added in a patronising voice. I shot Nix a veiled glare before he could comment, while I wondered how many teeth you could knock out with a seven iron.
“We wouldn’t hear of it,” I interjected, ignoring dickless and patting Summers on the shoulder like we were the closest of friends.
“We wouldn’t?” Phoenix questioned in surprise, doing that back-and-forth thing with his eyes.
Turning to my brother, I squeezed his arm, silently asking him to be cool without taking my eyes off Summers. “No, Sir. We don’t need any special treatment. Why don’t we flip for it?”
Summers nodded his head with approval and replied, “Fighting words, Mr. Prescott. I can see you’re a man who thrives on challenge. I like it.”
“Please, call me Reed,” I said with a killer smile.
“You’re on, Reed. You call it.” I didn’t miss the flash of annoyance that crossed Jasper’s face.
“Heads,” I said.
Summers flipped the coin and read the result before raising his head, “Heads it is.” He then pocketed his quarter and rubbed his hands together, excitement for the battle coming off him in waves. I must admit, the guy was growing on me by the second.
“It appears you're lucky both on and off the field,” Jasper said under his breath. Everyone heard his miffed tone, too.
“Bike me dickhead,” I rasped back. He was such a jackass. I was getting tired of his; who has the biggest cock contest. From his lanky ass build, I’d say I’d out-dick him by at least an extra four inches, give or take.
Summers, sensing the hostility, cleared his throat with a fake chuckle and looked between us with a half-pained expression, “Let’s do this, then, boys.
Grab your stuff, our caddies are Daisy and Lucas.
They’re waiting on the green at the tee box.
” He then said as an aside. “Jasper and I will meet you, boys, there. We’ll bring my golf buggy down. I call him The Mule.”
Interesting. I thought someone like Summers would have named his golf cart ‘The Golfinator,’ or something else that was as pretentious. But nope, the man continued to surprise me.
We all started to grab our bags. Phoenix easily carried our golf bag as we followed the other two men, watching them load the buggy. “What are you doing? Are you nuts?” he rasped, clearly annoyed that I’d called Jasper a dickhead in front of his dad.
I shrugged and readjusted my glove. “That’s the consensus.” I could just see the headlines: Football God, Commits Homicide on the Fairway.
“You’d better be as good as Hudson,” Phoenix grunted moodily. He had always hero-worshipped our oldest brother, the kiss ass.
“Don’t get your dick in a twist.”
“It’s not my dick I’m worried about.”
A wide smile erupted across my face. I was the most competitive motherfucker on the planet and excelled at most sports. I’d donate a kidney rather than allow Jasper the prick to beat me. “Keep your panties on, brother. We’ve got this.”