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“Told you it wasn’t clear,” he hisses, trying to elbow Jethro who makes a face at him.
Wait a minute… “JC? As in Jethro Connors? You made these?”
“He’s the best,” Joel says fondly. “Asshole just won’t believe it.”
“And it’s a comic?” Excitement bubbles inside me. “Is it done? Can I read it?”
Jet pauses in the process of chopping up bananas into thin slices. “It’s almost done.”
I’m practically jumping from foot to foot, my hands fluttering at my sides. “Oh my God, you are making a comic! Can I read it? Pleasepleaseplease?”
“Joel wrote the story,” Jet says. “Ask him.”
Joel writes stories? And Jet draws.
This is too much. “You’re kidding me. You’re both screwing with me, right?”
Joel puts the pancakes on the small kitchen table, his cheeks a bright crimson. “I haven’t found a fitting ending for it yet.”
“He wants to write an epic,” Jet says, putting down the knife, grinning. “He thinks he has to write something like the ancient history he’s obsessed with. I keep telling him real life doesn’t always end with a bang.”
“Ancient history is real,” Joel mutters, frowning. “Babylonia. Assyria. They existed. It wasn’t a video game.”
“Assyria,” I mutter.
“Yeah.”
“And Babylonia.”
“I’m particularly interested in the reign of Ashurbanipal, as a matter of fact, but anything of that period fascinates me.”
“Ashurbanipal.” Oh, baby, keep talking dirty to me.
And I should probably stop randomly repeating words he says.
“You were serious,” I whisper. “You’re interested in ancient history.” It wasn’t a come-on line. It was real.
He rubs his chin. “I took history in college. I like that stuff. Better than fantasy.” He pulls a chair back and holds my gaze with his glittering one. “Dinner is served.”
“I’m more of a Middle Ages fan myself,” I hear my voice saying as I cross to the table and take my seat. “I love the epics. Beowulf. The Edda. The Song of Roland.”
“You like history?” he asks, sounding pleased. “What did you study?”
“Still studying,” I mutter, and it’s my turn to blush. “Comparative literature.”
“No way.”
I wait for him to add two and two, realize we went to college together—well, that we were on the same campus, anyway, that I was one of the girls who ogled him on a daily basis, but he turns and drags Jet to the table.
“Who will say Grace?” Jet grins at Joel as he takes his seat, the plate of chopped bananas in front of him. He steals one, right before Joel smacks his hand.
“Grace,” Joel says and pushes the pancakes toward us. “Now eat.”
Chapter Fourteen
JOEL
I give Jet a hand up from the wrestling mat. “Had enough?”
