Chapter 11
Gillian
“Wait, you’re serrie?” Bronny abruptly stops scooping sour cream onto his homemade chicken nachos. “I’m supposed to change my toothbrush?!”
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my record print covered scrubs top – that Thayne surprised me with like a peace offering the day after the team calendar nightmare – is attached to an overly enthusiastic, “Yes!”
Bronny tilts his head to the side in a challenging fashion. “No cap?”
“What? No.” Disbelief crinkles my forehead. “You should always put the cap back on toothpaste when you’re not using it.”
“No, he’s askin’ if you’re bein’ honest,” Thayne deciphers between grabbing us plates for dinner. “And yeah, dude. She’s serrie.”
Curiosity has him quirking an eyebrow. “How serrie?”
“Game seven double overtime,” I reply just as he shoves a loaded chip into his mouth.
“What?!” he grumbles around the contents. “No-huh!” Frantic crunching is followed by swift swallowing. “You’re messin’ with me.” One hand is casually flung our way resulting in a tiny tomato landing on the floor near my bare feet. “Next, you’re gonna say I should be brushin’ my teeth twice a day.”
Shock plummets my jaw to the ground. “Ohmygod, you should!”
“Huh,” Bronny grunts and shoves another chip into his mouth. “Really?”
“Go,” instructs Thayne on a small chortle, hand lovingly landing on the small of my back. “Go sit down and stop breakin’ my Gillybean’s heart.”
“Her ‘Achy Breaky Heart’,” I playfully poke in return, brown stare meeting his hazel gaze.
It’s his turn to let his mouth become agape. “You jus’ Billy Ray Cyrus me?”
“Yup.”
“Skipped right over Elton John and Kiki Dee-”
“And Bonnie Tyler.”
“-to go straight for the man whose politics I don’t agree with, but whose most famous song notably increased the popularity of line dancin’ the year it came out?”
“Sure did.”
Awe instantly spreads throughout his expression. “Remind me again, how soon is too soon to propose? I’m thinkin’ a yellow diamond since those are my favorite jellybeans.”
Warm giggles precede me lightly elbowing him. “How about we start with getting Arthur in there on the schedule for a cleaning?”
“Bronny,” the teen calls out from where he’s settled in the living room recliner.
“Arthur,” my voice is thrown in his direction, “was an educational kids cartoon that I’m thinking we may need to be binging tonight instead of La Hermana Amorosa.”
“Learn later, see if Valentina is finally gonna realize her sister Noelle is havin’ an affair with her husband, Thiago, now,” he insists while reaching for the remote.
It’s impossible not to smirk.
Okay.
So, sue me.
I like that they like the telenovelas I’m into.
It’s fun to have someone besides Rhonnie and Owlfonso to ramble about it with.
Plus, I…like that Thayne and I haven’t even been dating that long and already have our own little family vibe going on.
Doesn’t seem to matter what we’re doing; Bronny wants to be a part of it.
He was happily with Thayne on Monday when he popped by my place to drop off the “I’m Sorry” scrubs and hand dripped cardamom coffee, excited to take credit for finding the influencer that helped his brother make the perfect cup.
Wednesday, he came with us to the Weird Music Festival – which paired culinary creations from around the world with unusual instruments – after convincing Thayne it would be a great immersive experience for the inevitable “What Did You Do This Summer” essay assignment his school district forces them to write every year.
And yesterday, we planned for a romantic yet healthy dinner – here at Thayne’s – as well as binging a soap opera in Spanish, two activities we swore were gonna keep him away – at least long enough for us to have a bit of the under the shirt action prior to my having to leave for the night – but nope.
He ate chicken avocado quinoa salad with us.
Asked about Frosky.
Peck.
Would he get to hang out with them again soon.
At the very least before he was shipped back home.
Gobbled down another helping and cut up fresh melon for dessert.
Melon that he then ate most of while getting into the show with us.
I really like that he’s growing comfortable being here.
That he doesn’t have to put on some show or facade.
That he can be goofy and silly and just himself like his big brother.
I like that despite it not being long – at all – we have our own special thing.
I’ve never had that.
I mean…not of my own.
Don’t get me wrong.
I love living that aunt life and being there for my nieces and nephew – especially when my brother can’t be – but there’s just something so magical about having something/someone that’s yours instead.
That you’re not so much added to but building.
And I think we are.
I’m not trying to be the dude’s mom, anymore than his brother is trying to be his dad, but I do feel like he’s reaching for us to give that guidance or fill that absence and I don’t hate it.
I actually really like it.
Has me thinking and wondering about kids.
Kids with Thayne at that.
Something we can’t exactly make when our makeshift one is constantly cock blocking.
“Why don’t you let me make you a plate while you go rest your feet?” Jukes suggests on another sweet smile. “You’ve had a long a day.”
It was long.
And exhausting.
And a good reminder why I try not to perform that many root canals in one day.
“You sure?” I gingerly inquire. “I can make my own plate.”
“You can,” he lets his face crane down closer to mine, “but I don’t mind helpin’ take care of you.”
“I don’t mind that either,” thoughtlessly leaves me prior to our lips softly pressing together. Unfortunately, it’s cut short by my cell vibrating in my pocket. “However, I do mind if this is another emergency root canal request.”
“What exactly is a root canal?” investigates Bronny as I turn to head into the open living room where he’s stationed, my ass being given a loving tap during the exit.
“What you’re gonna end up having many of if you don’t start taking better care of your teeth,” I tease while retrieving my device.
“I had Rhonnie put us both on the schedule when I swung by today,” Thayne retorts, recapturing my attention.
“You stopped by the office?”
“Was in the area.” Our eyes meet again. “Met with med to go over my pre-season test results. Thought I’d stop by on the way back home.
Make an appointment to get my teeth looked at considerin’ I haven’t since the trade that brought me here.
” He casually begins scooping food onto one plate. “Say hi to the woman of my dreams.”
It’s impossible not to beam.
“Take her to lunch if she had time, which she did not.”
“Sorry that I didn’t.”
“Never apologize for havin’ a career, Gillybean.” He pauses his actions. “I don’t.”
Wow.
Could he get any more leading hero perfect?!
Not only does he think I’m fucking sexy and smart and irresistible, he supports me being me.
Figuring out who me is.
Encourages me to own the parts that I already know.
Ugh.
He’s written by Dean Devlin perfection.
Flopping down into the middle of the nude-colored couch barely precedes me hitting ignore on the incoming video chat.
It’s not that I don’t want to talk to my big brother.
My best friend.
The one person that’s always been my go-to confidant for just about everything.
It’s just that I can’t.
Not here.
Not now.
Not with his top tendy in the next room literally making me dinner.
Loading up our text thread quickly occurs afterward.
Me: Out for dinner. Chat tom?
M: Ofc.
M: And tell the dude that you’re dating he’s getting “going to the cup” interviewed when I get back.
Yeah.
He still has no idea that I’m dating one of his players.
And I heard what Hennington said.
That shit couldn’t have been any clearer.
It was basically in closed captioning.
I need to tell M.
I hate keeping this from him, it’s just that I don’t wanna do it over the phone.
I wanna do it in person.
Directly to his face.
Preferably after he’s chugged down plenty of brewskies, a plate of wings, and been promised doggy on the stairs because the kids are with their grandparents for the night aka his version of a Gordie Howe hat trick.
Thayne eventually joins me on the couch while his brother hits play on the show.
For the first few minutes, all I hear is frantic crunching so loud that it tempts me into not eating at all; however, the instant Bronny gasps so hard, he chokes on a chip, the two mouths with legs slow down.
Remember how to savor their food.
Chew.
Swallow instead of gulping like owls that would make Owlfonso proud.
Nibbling away on the surprisingly veggie heavy meal is done alongside listening to the show and pausing to explain plot points to each of them due to the fact neither wanted to start at the very beginning.
Laughter and gasps and over the top responses continuously glide around the living room as if this is something we do every night.
Will do.
Thayne repeatedly checks on our needs, anxious to make sure Bronny and I have enough, that mine is warm enough, that the first-time recipe came out alright, prompting me to ceaselessly smile over his worrying.
It’s cute.
Cute AF.
Post reassuring that me barely finishing my one plate was about fullness versus flavor, my dish is taken back to the kitchen when he retreats to refill his.
Just as Jukes heads back to me, Bronny surprisingly shouts, “Whhhaaaattttt!!!! That’s not their real dad?!” An over-acted head explosion gesture is made. “GASP!”
“Would it kill ya not to talk in SNAP?” Thayne pokes during his descent into the space beside me.
“I’d talk out loud in emojis if I could.”
“Wouldn’t that just be making facial expressions?” I playfully point out.
“Yeah, the young kids don’t do that,” my sexy gray sweats wearing man chuckles under his breath. “They say the word because apparently doin’ it is too hard or complicated.”
“Too ancient,” corrects Bronny prior to dropping his empty plate on the coffee table between us. “No offense, Gilly.”
“Maybe a molar’s worth taken.”