“I wouldn’t say that,” I say, pulling more of my threadbare clothes out to put away.
“I would,” Ryan says as he grabs my toiletries and takes them into the adjoining bathroom.
“See!” Ander says. “Listen to Ryan. He’s smart.”
“Thank you, Ander,” Ryan says as he saunters back in from the bathroom. He steps into his closet and starts moving his shoes around to make more space on the shelves.
“But seriously, Brandon,” Ander says. “You’re doing great. You too, Ryan. The playoff run the Mules are on is all anyone can talk about.”
“Everyone loves an underdog,” Ryan says.
“I think it’s fair to say that you guys are no longer the underdogs.”
“That’s all thanks to your baby brother,” Ryan says and ruffles my hair from above.
I look up at him and glare while my brother laughs on the other end of the phone call.
“I’ve been telling people for ages how silky his mitts are. Now they’re all anybody can talk about.”
I roll my eyes. Ander, as always, is exaggerating. It’s what he does. “I highly doubt anyone is talking about my silky anything.”
Ryan leans over. He slides his hand between my thighs and whispers into my ear. “Yeah. That’s my job.”
I choke on my laugh and playfully push him away. “You know better than anyone I do not wear silk.”
“That’s true,” Ander says. “You’ve always been more of a cotton guy.”
Ryan and I share a look and start laughing. I didn’t realize I had said that loud enough for Ander to hear me.
“Ander,” Ryan says through his laughter, “why do you know so much about your brother’s underwear?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know, too,” Ander says. “You’re his road roommate. You know what he’s like. He leaves his worn clothes everywhere.”
“I do not!” I protest.
Ryan tilts his head. “You kind of do.”
I glare at him again.
He shrugs in his defense, then grabs my dress shoes and places them onto an empty shelf. I’m unexpectedly charmed by his efforts. My glare slips away.
“So what’s up?” I ask Ander. “Why’d you call?”
“I wanted to see if you were watching the game right now.”
“Which one?” I ask. There are two going on. Carolina vs Montreal, and Seattle vs Dallas.
I look up at Ryan, but he avoids my gaze. Instead, he focuses intently on finding a place for my Mules hoodie. Odd.
“Steers vs Squatch,” Ander says.
“No,” I say. “We’re busy at the moment.”
“Doing what?” Ander asks, like there’s nothing else in the world we should be doing other than watching the game. We probably should be watching. If Dallas wins tonight, we’ll be playing them in the next round. But like I said, Ryan and I are a bit busy.
“Just… we’re busy,” I say, stumbling over my words.
Ryan pauses unpacking my clothes and looks over his shoulder at me with a raised eyebrow. “Real smooth.”
