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“It was both of our homes for the last four years.”
“Speaking of home, are you ready for your week with the Baldwins? Tucker and Theo have been planning your visit all week.”
He raises his eyebrows in curiosity. “Is that a good or bad thing?”
“I guess it depends if you like their surprises.”
Dean chuckles, and his laughter is contagious.
After we get back to my house, Theo and Tucker steal Dean away from me to shoot pool in the rec room, followed by bowling. I feel like such a pretentious ass for having a six-lane bowling alley in our basement. My dad had it built so that each of us would have a lane, which makes it even more ridiculous.
Other than Becca, Dean is the only other person I ever invited to the monstrosity we call a house. As a mega fanboy of my father’s, Dean already knew we were rich from the start. Just inviting him to bowl in our basement makes me feel like we are rubbing it in his face. All summer, Dean has been killing himself doing manual labor, and we have everything you could ever imagine on our property.
The twins talked us into an all-night bowling marathon, full of binge drinking and junk food. With how hungry I have been lately, I devoured a ton of snacks, all while swapping out my beers for ginger ale.
Theo spins around after another strike and slides toward us in his bowling shoes. They’re not the goofy clown kind they have at alleys, more like the shoes worn by the pros with the replaceable soles. Still, we all look stupid in them. For some reason, mine are now too tight, making it harder to walk in them.
“You’re up, Kit-Kat,” Theo shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth.
“I can hear you without all the yelling,” I retort, getting up from the chair.
Dean stares at the placement of my hand on the side of my stomach as if he can tell I have gained some weight. Shit. Panicked, I quickly drop my arm to my side and step up to take my turn. I search for my ball on the return and shove my fingers inside the grips. Austin had all of our balls drilled with these stupid inserts inside. He swears they help give the ball a better spin when he’s kicking our asses.
Well aware of Dean watching me, I tuck my elbows in, hoping to hide my stomach from view, and move up the lane to throw the ball. It sails off my fingertips, spinning toward the head pin, and makes a slight left, leaving three pins behind.
“You’re not gonna beat us with shots like that,” Tucker says once I turn around. He pounds the rest of his beer and burps in my ear, as I walk past him.
“Thanks, idiot.” I cover my hand over my ear and frown at him.
“C’mon, Kat.” Tucker wraps his arms around me, holding me in place. “Stop being such a buzzkill.”
Theo comes up from behind us and squeezes the life out of me. Once they release me from their grip, Tucker grabs a beer from the table and hands it to me. Even if I could drink, Tucker poured it before we started the game. The temperature alone would cause my stomach to turn.
I push my hand out in front of me and shake my head. “No, that’s okay. I’m still working on the one I have.” The glass I dumped out and filled with ginger ale.
I had snuck behind the bar while they were busy arguing over the score and replaced the beer with soda. For appearance sake, it looks similar enough. But because of the lack of foam, I haven’t touched my drink for most of the game, afraid to draw attention.
“You’ve been nursing it to death.” Theo attempts to hand me the beer again. “Drink up.”
I refuse him once more. “My stomach is still bothering me, okay?”
“You say that all the time,” Theo adds.
Dean gets up from his chair and comes to my rescue. “You guys are just mad that we’re wiping the floor with your sorry asses.”
Theo blows out a puff of air, spitting some his beer on us in the process. “Bullshit. You’re beating us by twelve points. We can make that up by the end of the game.”
“It’s drunk bowling for a reason.” Tucker points his finger at me. “Kat is cheating.”
“We don’t need to be sober to beat you.” Dean hooks his arm around my back and pulls me into his side.
“Whatever.” Theo chugs the beer he had handed to me. “Your turn, bro,” he says to Tucker.
After Tucker finishes another mug of warm beer, he slams it down on the table and walks over to the ball return. I sit next to Dean and lean my head on his shoulder as if no time has passed.
“Are you still eating gluten-free food?”
Dean’s words cause me to still for a moment.
