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“Well, I don’t.” Royal moved it aside. “That leaves Space Jam and My Girl.”
Knight and LJ immediately lifted a finger. “Space Jam,” exclaimed on their lips but Royal and I did something different. The words, “My Girl,” fell from our mouths at basically the same time, which honestly caused both his brow and mine to shoot up.
The other three guys smirked.
“Of course, that’s the one you want, Royal.” LJ reached out for the My Girl DVD, then slid it over to me. He relaxed back. “Might as well put that one in, December. It was like Royal and Paige’s anthem or something.”
“Was not.” Royal threw a pillow at him and when LJ tossed it back, Royal picked it up and slammed him over the head with it.
“Doth thou protest too much?” LJ chuckled, boys way too large fighting each other off on the small couch. What was really hilarious was Jax was in the middle of them, getting a few slams himself and eventually, Knight pulled the pillow away and threw it across the room—killjoy.
Royal pushed his dress sleeves up his forearms, throwing his wingspan back across the couch. He shrugged. “I guess we thought we were Vada and Thomas J. or something.”
“Sure did.” Jax chuckled. He directed a thumb at Royal. “They were even each other’s first kiss.”
Now that floored me, and something I obviously hadn’t known. I propped my hands on my hips. “Really?”
Royal rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and it was the worst thing ever. I swear I washed my goddamn mouth out.”
“How do you think Paige felt?” Jax settled a popcorn bowl in his lap, scarfing a ton of what the boys hadn’t eaten after they’d popped it. He grinned. “She went swiftly gay after that—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Royal slugged him, actually getting on top of him and ripping his shirt a little. Jax was losing his shit the whole time, laughing, which I think only made Royal pissed off more. Eventually, Royal got Jax under his arm. He growled, “Apologize.”
“Sorry, bro. Sorry!” More chuckles from Jax, but when they both smiled, I knew Royal wasn’t too hurt by what Jax said. I still was surprised by the whole kiss thing. I mean, my sister was clearly gay, and after putting in the DVD, I walked over to the male-infested couch. Royal opened his arms for me, and after tucking me under one and cradling Hershey in his other, he rubbed my arm. “It wasn’t a thing,” he said. “We were a girl and a prepubescent boy. Had to get it out of the way, I guess.”
Made sense, I supposed, but it was still weird. I exchanged my snacks for Hershey who quickly bounded over to my lap, sending my Skittles flying. We were all about to clean up this fucking house before my dad came home. The boys got popcorn everywhere when they fought.
The movie queued up, and we all settled in as the credits started.
Jax crunched on some Doritos. “Didn’t that kiss happen at your birthday party, Royal? That one where your dad rented out a whole goddamn amusement park.”
Royal smirked, dragging a finger down my arm. “Believe me, the showboating wasn’t for me. Dad always likes to make a statement.” He tipped a chin at Jax. “And yeah, it was my tenth birthday, but that wasn’t the year dad rented the amusement park. That was my ninth. The tenth was the circus.”
“I thought that was your eighth.” LJ was dismissive about the statement, watching the movie. “The eighth was the circus, right?”
“Nope,” Royal stated, reaching over and grappling a bunch of popcorn. “That was the tenth.”
LJ lifted his head. “Oh, yeah. Right.”
They all sat with that for a moment before Jax spoke again and almost got a foot to the face for it. Royal was really into the movie and kicked him.
Jax flipped him off. “I was just going to say the circus was the seventh. I remember that.”
“It wasn’t. It was the tenth. Now, shut the fuck up.” Reaching around, Royal shoved Jax’s head forward, and I laughed.
Jax didn’t, though, shaking his head. He pouted. “Oh, right. You
didn’t have a birthday party that year since…”
The credits had faded, and the movie had begun, but that didn’t mean anyone was focused on it anymore. Everyone was staring at Jax, someone who paused right in the middle of devouring a chip.
I sat up. “Why didn’t he have a party?”
True silence going on right now outside of the movie and absolutely no one was listening to it. All attention had shifted to Royal, someone who was suddenly bracing the popcorn with a death grip in his hand. Unfurling his fingers, he casually ate what he had.
“Because, uh, I got sick that year,” he passed off, panning toward the flat screen again. “Too sick for a party.”
“Really?” I questioned. “What happened—”
