Chapter 24 #3
“He’s just whining because she has that sports column “Between Periods” in The Daily Duke and she picks on him,” Gregg sings before smacking a kiss on Mason’s cheek.
Pecan crows, “Is she mean to you, Mason?” His lips pout. “Is the meanie-weanie baby journalist howwible to Mason Dwakey?”
He flips us all the bird, making sure it hits each one of us, before swiping at his face. “Can I help it that I’m the target of her one-woman hate campaign?”
Joker snorts. “That’s a little extreme.”
“Don’t see the rest of you being called out for having bad hair days,” he bitches. “And before you start, Gregg, I wasn’t sniffing around Juniper. I don’t sniff around. I’m not a dog.”
“Says who?” Pecan whoops. “And I’d howl around Juniper too if I weren’t a one-woman man.” He rubs his nails against his chest. “Ain’t that right, D?”
“That’s right, Peeks,” I approve.
“If you don’t have a thing for Juniper then why did you just turn red, Mason?”
“Fuck off, Joker. This has nothing to do with you.”
“I think it has everything to do with me,” he disagrees. “Since Juniper’s my sister.”
That has each of us gaping at one another.
“You never told us you had a sister,” Gregg sputters.
Even Alec looks shocked, and as he’s the Dukes’ gossip king, that tells me Joker’s purposely kept this info under wraps.
“Why would I? She has nothing to do with the team and I wanna keep it that way.
“Anyway, it’s not my fault that you fuckers think Joker is on my birth certificate. We do share a freakin’ last name. So, Mason, I repeat, why are you doing a great impression of a tomato?”
“If she has nothing to do with the team, then how does Mason know her?” Pecan inserts.
“Pecan, she just poured you a fresh cup of coffee.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “How do you think he knows her?”
“Ugh, that’s boring. I wanted something tawdry.”
“‘Tawdry?'” I hoot. “Someone learned a word.”
“Hailey got me some ‘word of the day’ toilet paper.”
Ahh, so that’s how he knew ‘penchant.’
The table snickers but Mason admits, “Juniper and I are in the intramural volleyball league.”
“You wear short-shorts?” Pecan blinks. “Guys, we gotta see this. Everyone knows Mason has the peachiest ass in the locker room!”
“Hey!” Joker complains. “Mine’s better.”
As they bicker over who has the nicest butt, Pecan declares around a massive bite of pancakes: “I’ll judge them all tomorrow in the showers. Can’t be fairer than that.”
Ah, homoeroticism. Delightful.
Still, it’d be more attractive if I wasn’t watching him eat. My nose wrinkles. “Your mom’s going to be so disappointed when she sees you’ve devolved into a toddler, Pecan. You’ve started talking and eating at the same time again.”
“Hear, hear,” Joker mocks, raising his coffee mug, a move Gregg mimics seeing as he was just a target of Pecan’s poor eating habits.
“What Mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“Funny how this works both ways,” I tell him in a singsong voice. “You’re not the only one due a call from Aunt Helmie.”
He carefully places his fork on his plate. “Excuse me?”
“Aunt Helmie,” I purr. “She’s due to call me for our monthly chat.”
His eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would. Not only because I want you to give me and Zach some privacy, but you’re gross—”
He presses a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”
“Having a front-row seat to your breakfast mid-mastication is wounding me.”
Zach snorts. “Considering Aunt Helmie’s such a stickler for this shit, this is probably his idea of a rebellion.”
Pecan sticks a finger at him. “My man, that’s it. I knew it was a wise move for you to take psychology.”
“You’d be the only one who’d think that. Professor Bering hates me.”
“She hates everyone,” Joker inserts. “Something to do with a forensic psychology student she once had. He turned her off ALL people.”
“That’s an urban legend,” Mason chortles.
“It’s true! They say he kidnapped her and that visiting professor, the English Lit—”
“Maclean,” Alec tacks on.
“—saved her.”
“Maclean’s too much of an asshole to save anyone.” I shake my head at the routine bullshit these fuckers spread. “He’d curdle milk with that smile which, actually, should be a crime because he’s beautiful.”
Zach gags. “No way.”
“Yes way.” I call out, “Lex! Professor Maclean, hot as actual fuck, right?”
She whistles. “Hotter than actual fuck.”
“Wynter?” I prompt.
Cackling, she blows on her fingers like they’re burning. “Even hotter than that. Shame his personality makes mass murderers look friendly.”
“Who’s that?” Victoria inquires.
Lex places two Dopie breakfast specials on Wynter’s table for her friends. “He’s a guest professor. Lives in France.”
“You know him, Vick,” Shay prods. “I’m not gay and I think he’s hot.”
“He can’t be that cute.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen him with Mrs. Maclean. She’s, like, the center of his world,” Lex coos.
As Lexi and the trio begin rating the cuteness of the staff, crowing, I turn to Zach. “See! What did I just say?”
“All right, all right,” Zach complains. “I haven’t even met the fucker and I never want to.”
With a snort, I pat his cheek. “Okay, I have to hit the library.”
“I’ll come with.”
“No need. I’m meeting Callan. Talk shit about the coach with these idiots. I’ll see you later, okay?”
He begrudgingly agrees, his bottom lip popping out. I can’t help myself. That needs to be kissed.
“Holy fuck, it’s true!” A braying laugh echoes around the suddenly silent diner. “Addison, I thought you were joking about them being an item. Bradley, man, are you desperate or something?”