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“Don’t worry, Lex. We’ve come to play.”
The smallest hint of a smile crests her lips as Bailey stands up to face the rest of the team.
“Ain’t that right, boys?” he shouts at the top of his lungs. “We came to play!”
“Hell yeah! Fuck Philly!”
Just as my brother-in-law Wes walks in through a door on the opposite side from the one we entered, the team starts chanting “Fuck Philly” in perfect synchrony. He shakes his head on a laugh and walks over to Lex and me.
“You brought my daughter down here to listen to my idiot football players drop f-bombs?”
“This is an important part of the pregame.” Lex rolls her eyes for what feels like the one-hundredth time today, and I just shrug on a laugh as I reach out to shake Wes’s hand.
“She insisted, man. Pretty much refused to go to our seats without stopping in the locker room first. Not to mention, she said you let her do this.”
“Oh, she said that, did she?” Wes grins at Lexi. “I guess I should just be thankful you chose to come down after they’re mostly dressed.”
“You and me both.”
I glance down at Lexi, figuring she has some kind of response to that ready to fly from her lips, but I notice she’s no longer paying attention to us. Instead, her eyes are busy looking around the locker room, taking in each player as they finish getting ready for the game. I know whatever she’s doing, she’s doing it with a point, so I don’t bother interrupting.
“Where’s Winnie?” I ask Wes instead, and his smile is both exasperated and amused.
“Probably in the PT room, making sure everyone’s getting taped up exactly how she prefers.”
I smirk. “Isn’t that a physical therapist’s job?”
“You’d think since we hired one of the best physical therapists in the damn country, she’d be able to relax a little, but you know Win. She likes to keep the reins tight.”
“I trust you know this from experience?” I tease. “My sister keeping you on a short leash?”
Wes just chuckles, too far gone in love with my sister to even think twice about my jab. “She can keep me on as short of a leash as she wants.”
Back in the day, when Winnie first started dating Wes Lancaster, I was suspicious. Hell, I wasn’t easy on him at all. But she’s my baby sister, and I’d seen the bullshit she’d been put through in the past. Her relationship with Lexi’s biological dad was real fucking rocky up until a few years ago.
“You know, back in the day, Jude and Ty would’ve given you some serious shit about that comment, but now that they’re in the same sappy fucking state of love as you, I think I’m the only one left to comment.”
Wes waggles his brows. “And don’t you think it’s time to fix that, Rem?”
“He will,” Lexi chimes in, and I look down at her in surprise.
“Excuse me?”
“Your personality shows traits of being a thoughtful caretaker, especially to the females in your life. Psychologically speaking, in order for you to feel fully content, you need to find a partner who not only makes you happy but whom you feel like you can take care of. It’s a prosocial behavior that is considered a positive personality aspect by psychologists most of the time. However, it can also be considered negative if it leads to burnout, stress, and self-sabotaging coping mechanisms.”
“I’m sorry…what?” I question, just as Wes snorts.
“Lex, have you been reading your mom’s old med school textbooks?”
“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “Lately, I’ve been finding human behavior and psychology incredibly stimulating.” She looks up at me and pats my arm. “Uncle Rem, most psychologists would say your biggest obstacle in finding a potential partner is that you need to find someone whom you want to take care of out of love but not obligation, and someone whom you will let take care of you, too. There needs to be a balance in relationships.”
Wes looks at me with raised eyebrows and the kind of smile that’s a little too fucking amused.
“Well, now that you’ve psychoanalyzed me, how about we start heading back into the stadium so we’re in our seats before kickoff?”
Wes chuckles at that. “Things getting a little too real for you, Mr. Caretaker?”
I purse my lips and discreetly flip him the middle finger.
And Lex, well, she’s already walking around the locker room high-fiving the players and giving her final game-day advice.
“We’ll meet you down here after the game?” I ask Wes.
He laughs more. “Nice avoidance.”
“I’m not avoiding,” I retort. “But I’m also not going to take relationship advice from a kid.”
“A really smart kid, mind you,” he adds with a smug grin. “Hell, Thatch takes advice from Lex all the time.”
“Because Thatch is a fucking lunatic.”
“I won’t deny that.” Wes chuckles, and I can tell by the way he’s looking around the room for someone in particular, his mind is already forming a plan.
