Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Me.
On the couch with Luca wrapped around me like a second skin. Hard erection pressed into my stomach.
I shove at him, scrambling upright, nearly elbowing him in the face.
“Gio. What the hell are you doing here?!”
“What am I doing here?” My brother gapes, eyes ping-ponging between the two of us. “What is he doing here?”
Gio gasps, which is rich, considering I’ve literally walked in on him banging Austin more than once.
“Unbelievable,” he hisses, stepping inside my apartment like the righteous older brother of the year that he is. Points directly at Luca, who rises from the couch. “I warned the team to stay away from her and you swore you wouldn’t touch her, man. Did you think I wouldn’t find out you were sneaking around?”
Luca stretches casually. Leans left. Leans right. Bending. “Yeah—we actually didn’t think you would find out.”
He postures to appear taller, already towering several inches over my brother.
“You both fucking lied to me!” Gio inhales a breath. “On what planet is it ever okay to dry-hump my sister.”
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!
Gio and I have one rule for one another and that rule is: Honesty, always. No matter how bad it hurts. Welp. Too late for that…
“Do you know how much I hate being lied to!” Gio bellows again, dragging a hand through his hair like he’s moments from combusting. “And from both of you? The fuck!”
“Hey.” Luca’s jaw flexes. “Don’t put this on her.”
“Don’t you defend her right now—she’s not innocent,” Gio snaps, pointing a finger so close to Luca’s chest I take a protective step forward. “In fact, I blame most of this on her.”
“Well so do I!” Luca fires back, and I blink because—RUDE!
“I—what?” I sputter.
It’s as if I’m not even in the room as these two assholes continue arguing.
“She lies all the time,” Gio accuses, still jabbing his finger in Luca’s direction. “Once she said she didn’t steal my GameCube in high school? Lies. It was lies!”
Oh lord.
“She lied to me too!” Luca shoots back. “She told me she wanted joint custody of our giraffe cup and she hasn’t asked to see it once. Not a single time. That’s basically reckless abandonment.”
Oh for the love of Go—
“What the hell is a giraffe cup?” my brother demands.
“None ya fucking busin—"
Then—without warning—Gio lunges at Luca.
It’s not subtle. There’s no buildup. Just a full-on, limbs-flailing, “YOU’RE GONNA REGRET THIS” kind of lunge that sends both of them crashing sideways into the coffee table.
“Jesus!” I squeal, doing my best not to panic. “What are you doing? Both of you, get up!”
“You’re not good enough to kiss the toe of her boots let alone dry hump her in her living room!” my brother shouts from beneath my boyfriend.
“Take that back, dickhead!” Luca bellows theatrically, wrapping one arm around Gio’s neck in a very uncoordinated headlock.
My brother gurgles.
“Fuck you!” Gio gasps, flailing as if he’s fighting off a wild raccoon. “THE PEOPLE DESERVE THE TRUTH!”
“Oh—and you’re the people?!”
“I am the people!”
“Fuck you, dude!”
“No—fuck you!”
I stare in disbelief as my brother and my very much unofficial boyfriend roll off the couch and onto the rug like emotionally repressed toddlers at a wrestling-themed birthday party.
They grunt.
They flail.
At one point, Gio yells, “Tap out!” while Luca shouts back, “You tap out first!”
This is the most insane thing I have ever seen in my whole, adult life—and I’ve seen a lot of insane shit. Mostly at my sorority house in college, but we’ll save those stories for another day.
Currently?
I’m witnessing two full-grown, testosterone filled men attempting to resolve a seemingly fabricated argument with grunts, limb-flailing—and actual carpet burn.
“Give me your goddamn ankle!” Luca yells.
“Screw you!” Gio screams, crab-crawling backwards like he’s in a wrestling ring.
My eyes widen as I watch them roll into my coffee table, knock over a stack of magazines and a candle that was burning until about thirty seconds ago.
Smoke rises from its wick.
“You’re both ridiculous,” I declare loudly, over the sounds of their coughing and grunting, while Luca uses a couch cushion as a weapon against my brother.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Gio grunts, going to put Luca into yet another headlock. “I shall rise victorious!”
Luca groans. “I’m so glad we’re bonding.”
“Please make it stop,” I mutter. “Please.”
Then Luca, who’s laying on his back, hair sticking out in seventeen directions, chest heaving, rolls in my direction and says—
“So. Are you ready to admit to your brother that we’re dating?”
Huh?
“What?”
“You heard him,” my brother says, resting on his elbow, totally relaxed. “It’s getting embarrassing at this point, sis.”
My brain tries to scramble, but there’s too much to compute. The fake wrestling. The emotional manipulation. The fact that Gio is now lounging like this is a picnic and not the site of his own staged meltdown.
“You two planned this?” I hiss.
Luca shrugs from the floor. “Loosely.”
“We prefer the term spontaneous dramatization,” Gio adds, tossing a couch pillow over his shoulder and missing Luca’s face by an inch. “That was all improvised on my part.” He grins. “Pretty good, eh?”