Page 39 of Meet the Boys
I wonder if Jimmy would be a good fit for the house.
The thought sits for all of two seconds before I’m shaking it out of my head.
No way. The poor guy looked so uncomfortable playing our game last night. I remember that much. I think he only had one shot the entire night. There’s no way he could handle living with us. And besides, I wouldn’t want him hampering our style either.
He may be a nice guy, but he’s too good. Too tightly strung, from what I can tell.
There’s no way he’d fit into our chaos.
Which still leaves two places.
The machine whirs, and I watch my mug fill before grabbing it and walking back to the living room. Curling my leg under my butt, I eye up Adonis and Ben for a second. I’m still liking the way Ben cleaned up after me and Sawyer yesterday, so he’s pretty high up on my list.
Adonis?
Yeah, I’m not so sure.
I’ll keep a close eye on him today and see if anything hits.
I really want this year to be as perfect as it can be, and choosing the right people to live with is essential. I’m thinking a few more tests are in order… because I can only remember half the answers from our game last night. I’m not about to admit that our plan kind of failed because we got so caught up in the drinking that we forgot to analyze everyone’s answers.
Although, with the amount Mac drank last night, I think we can safely rule him out. That guy is way too wild to live with.
Maybe rather than a selection process, this whole thing will happen by elimination.
By the end of this weekend, if we can rule out everyone but two, then we’ll have our guys.
Perfect!
Within a couple of hours, the whole house is up, and Sawyer is back in the kitchen creating delicious smells that I can’t resist. Soon, everyone who hasn’t eaten yet is piled around the table while Sawyer serves up gourmet-looking French toast, and I quit calorie counting so I can enjoy myself.
In all honesty, I never count calories, but I am pretty strict with what I let myself eat. When you’re an athlete, you can’t afford to just shove anything you want into your body, and I was raised in a house where we were taught to be aware of this stuff. Before Dad’s accident, he was a basketball player. After his accident, he became awheelchairbasketball player, and he was really good. Mom has always helped him any way she can, and that’s why our house was Health City, especially when Dad was really making a go of his athletic career. It meant Darian and I grew up on healthy snacks and were only allowed ice cream like once a month.
Okay, so it wasn’t that bad, but we always felt deprived growing up.
Now I’m just aware of everything I put into my body.
But not this weekend.
For the next two days, I’m going for it, which is why I put a healthy drizzle of maple syrup over my French toast and tuck in.
Moving in with Sawyer is such a no-brainer. He’s going to be the biggest asset to our house. A man who can cook. That can only be a good thing.
I’m pretty sure my father’s allergic to the kitchen.
My upper lip is curling before I can stop it.
“You good?” Cash nudges my foot with his, and I glance up, forcing a smile and nodding.
“All good.” I shift my foot out of his reach and look up in time to see Nix padding down the stairs. She’s looking a little worse for wear, and when Sawyer offers her food, I swear she turns a pale shade of green.
“Just coffee,” she rasps, heading for the machine.
“Have some water first.” Ben fills her a glass and places it in front of her on his way out of the kitchen.
I watch him walk up the stairs. He’s got a fine sheen of sweat on his skin and… has he just gone for a run?
The way he’s slightly puffing as he climbs the stairs makes me think he has, and now I’m feeling like a lazy ass.
