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Kevin gawks at my newly-cleaved chest from the kitchen to where I stand in our pantry/laundry room with a massive hangover. It’s everything I can do to keep my head up as I stuff my dirty clothes in the washer.
Troy catches sight of my back while lifting the orange juice carton to his mouth and bursts into laughter. “Damn, man, did you not get one swing in?”
“I’ll kill you both,” I mumble, adding detergent, “I swear to God.”
Troy guzzles down the juice and crushes the carton before tossing it into the trash. He’s a tidy roommate, I’ll give him that. “Hey,” he says in reaction to my hate stare, “you needed the help.”
“I asked for no such thing!” I stab an accusing finger in his direction. They both erupt into more laughter, and Troy shakes his head before reading my expression.
“You’re really pissed, dude?”
“Yeah, dude, I really am.”
Troy nods toward Kevin. “Give us a minute.”
“I’m on the X-box,” Kevin says, making his exit to the living room while Troy crowds the space.
“That bad?”
“I really don’t remember much, but I’m positive I enjoyed little of it.”
“I’m sorry, man. I really was just trying to help.”
“In the future, don’t. Do me no more favors.”
“No one put a gun to your head.”
“I know.”
He paws the top of the pantry door, blocking me in and lifts one shoulder. “Didn’t have to do it to make Papa proud.”
I raise livid eyes to his, and he grimaces. “Sorry, that was a dick thing to say, but seriously, why do it?” He eyes my chest and winces. “I don’t remember her being that rough.”
The fact that he’s slept with her makes me cringe, but I should have expected it. I scan his solid frame. He’s got at least fifty pounds of muscle on me, so of course, he wasn’t shredded like a man toy. He probably had her purring like a kitten.
“Troy, get in here, we’re about to start!”
“He doesn’t live here, you know,” I snap. “He ate all my cereal and took a deuce in my bathroom this morning that could gag a rat.”
Troy grins. “I’ll get him out of here early.”
I nod, shutting the lid to the washer, and he leaves me to my sulking when my phone rattles with an incoming message.
Brenna: Hey bro. What are you up to?
I move to answer and groan when I realize it’s a group text and my sister, Courtney has decided to answer on my behalf.
Courtney: Laundry day. Right? So predictable. Teddy, you’re boring.
Jamie: He’s probably watching Harry Potter. There’s an all-day marathon on.
My fingers are itching to type I’m hungover and scratched up from last night’s activity but for one—I’m not proud of it, a lion was not born last night, and two—having three older sisters is equivalent to having three extra mothers.
Courtney: We can see you read the messages, you little shit.
Annoyed, I type out a reply.
Teddy: Mom should have drowned you the minute you started screaming at your baptism because it’s proof you’re inherently E V I L.
