Page 38 of Next Level Up
My eyes drift to the living room, where blankets are still bunched up on the couch, a stack of empty energy drink cans sit on the coffee table, and my laptop is balanced on a pile of laundry I swore I’d fold two days ago. Even my bedroom door is cracked open like a reminder of a mess waiting inside.
I know they don’t care. They’re not the type to judge me over a little clutter, but it still makes me feel I need to prove to myself I haven’t completely unraveled just because they’re here.
I lean over the counter. “Hey. I’ve been meaning to ask, should we start a bribe jar?”
Carter blinks, amused. “A what?”
“A bribe jar,” I repeat. “You know. Like a swear jar but for when one of you tries to get out of doing something domestic and resorts to flirting, bribery, or emotional manipulation.”
Tate raises a brow. “So basically a jar I’d owe rent to.”
Carter snorts. “You say that like you wouldn’t fill it proudly.”
“I would,” Tate agrees easily. “I’d make it sexy.”
I gesture between them. “Exactly. You can’t keep getting out of chores by being hot.”
Carter feigns offense. “So now kindness is a crime?”
“You tried to get out of doing Tate’s dishes yesterday by saying you ‘made the kitchen look pretty.’”
“I did,” he argues. “You smiled. That’s a win.”
“And you,” I say, turning on Tate, “left your laundry in my hamper and offered to kiss my neck until I ‘forgot about it.’”
He smirks. “Did it work?”
I glare. “Yes. But that’s not the point.”
He leans forward. “What’s the price for one neck kiss?”
Carter, without missing a beat, says, “Two dollars. More if tongue’s involved.”
I drop my head to the counter, laughing so hard it hurts. “You guys are relentless.”
“Relentless and charming,” Carter says proudly, drying his hands. “It’s our brand.”
Tate hums. “I’ll pay in advance.”
“You’re pre-bribing me for something?”
“I plan to cause problems later,” he says simply. “Might as well build credit.”
Carter points at him. “That’s technically responsible.”
“We’re not normal,” I sigh, but I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt, then sink into the bar stool by the counter. “So… today.”
Tate raises a brow. “Big day.”
“Massive,” Carter says, sipping carefully. “You ready?”
I exhale slowly. “Getting there. But I have one question.”
Tate lifts his head lazily.
“How the hell are you planning to actually play? You didn’t bring your setup.”
“I didn’t have to,” he says. “Carter called in a favor.”
