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“Of course it’s okay.” Coury smiled. “Unless you’d rather hang out with the cranky old guy who”—he whispered—“burns things.”
Liam snorted and Pop whacked them both with the dish towel. “Get out of my kitchen, you ungrateful little urchin. I’ll show you cranky.”
Liam laughed and hurried out of range.
“You’re brave,” Liam said as they headed to the basement. “He might slip hot sauce in your chicken.”
“I’ll be full of hot stuff, then.”
Liam jerked his gaze from Coury, lest it wander.
“No worries. Pop obviously likes you.”
Coury bumped his shoulder. “Pop likes everyone. He seems happy to have you around.”
Beckett blew in with a grin. “So much better.” He grabbed the glass from Coury and downed it. “You’re the best, C-man.”
“Liam said I’m enabling you. So next time, grab your own water.”
Beckett pivoted to Liam like he only just realized he was there. “I thought you loved me?”
Liam rolled his eyes.
Beckett slapped him on the shoulder. “Did you leave some books down here, Squirt?”
Liam grimaced.
“Dude, stop calling your brother Squirt. He’s not ten anymore.”
Beckett blinked, surprised, and there was a weird moment when his gaze flashed between the two of them; Liam fought an instinct to shake his head and sidle away from Coury. Beckett seemed to dismiss his thought. “It’s my pet name for him.”
Coury fondly whacked Beckett upside the head. “Not a cool one. You want winners, Liam? Or do you want to go first and let me kick your ass?”
He wanted him to do something else to his ass, but right now he’d settle for kissing Coury for standing up for him. “I’ll take winners. That way I can scout your game.”
Coury glared at him, but his cheek dimpled with a grin. “Oh, it’s so on.”
Chapter Three
Liam
Coury trounced Beckett.
He racked in balls for the Coury vs. Liam showdown, and Liam stared nervously at the green felt table—
Saved by the bell. Pop called them for dinner.
Only dinner ended sooner than he’d have liked, and before he knew it, Liam was back in the basement, hoping he wasn’t about to make a total fool of himself.
He could play all right . . . better than Beckett anyway. But maybe not with people—not with Coury—watching.
Liam leaned against the wall, letting Coury break. His body moved fluidly, with poise and power, and a satisfying smack resounded around the room.
Coury pocketed the six ball off the break.
“You ever get that class you need to graduate?” Beckett asked.
Liam arched a brow at his brother. A tactic to throw Coury off his game?
Coury frowned as he circled the table. “Couldn’t get into basic anthropology. Had to choose between Dinosaur Paleobiology 101, Theropod Dinosaurs 101, and Origin of Birds 101.”
Liam straightened. Paleontology courses? Liam was majoring in biology and geology. This was majorly up his alley.
Coury had to know, right? “Will you be able to graduate?”
“Well, I chose paleobiology.” Coury sank the three ball in the side pocket, smiled at the cue, and moved into position for a shot at the seven. “Sounded easier, but this year it’s run by a guest professor, Callaghan Glover. He’s tougher than I thought. Got no sympathy from home, either. Dad laughed at me. Wanted to know why I wanted to play with toy dinosaurs.”
Coury’s dad sounded like a dick. There’d been a few other clues of that over the years. Things he learned by listening a little harder than perhaps he should have . . .
But paleontology. That was a serious and complicated science.
Beckett shrugged. “You never failed anything in your life.”
“Might not pass this one.” Was that a glance to Liam?
So. Would Coury ask him to help? Or was he supposed to offer?
Coury bricked the cue against the bumper, making sure Liam had no shots.
“Thanks,” Liam muttered as he passed.
Coury smirked and patted him on the back. “Anytime. Anyway, I should probably get a tutor . . .”
That sounded . . . like Coury was fishing.
“I’m sure a tutor who specializes in paleontology and bioinformatics will be very hard to find,” Liam said drily. He tapped the cue, but at Coury’s humored laugh, pushed too far.
Coury’s eyes glittered. “Left me a good run.”
“It moved more than I intended.”
Coury ran the table and high-fived Liam a decent slap against his open hand, with just the right amount of sting. “Nice game.”
“For you. You gave me nothing.”
“Welcome to my world.” Coury handed the stick to Beckett. “You two play.”
“Think your dad will give you the money for a tutor?” Beckett asked.
“You know someone who can help me?” Coury stretched, his shirt riding up to expose tight abs and a little dark-blond treasure trail.
Liam almost lost his nerve. He averted his eyes. “I can help you.”
“Seriously?” Coury sat up, fire in his eyes. “You would?”
“That’s right,” Beckett said, delighted. “Squ . . . Liam’s the science nerd.”
Coury held up a hand in front of Beckett’s face, meeting Liam’s gaze. “Ignore the troll and don’t feed him or he’ll never leave.”
