“You’re not supposed to be home yet,” Bates says casually.
My eyes narrow to slits on my naked brother. “Go put some damn clothes on,” I yell at him.
He rolls his eyes at me, then his gaze darts to MJ, and a cocky smirk tips his lips. “Who’s your pretty friend?”
Poor MJ still has her hands over her eyes, and a bright-crimson flush now covers her neck and cheeks.
“Fuck off,” I tell him before whatever idea he’s forming can come to fruition. “At least put some pants on. Why are you naked anyway?”
“I’m a man, Lenny. I need to let my boys fly free as much as possible, let them breathe,” he says like this is something I should obviously know.
A headache is forming at my temples, and I rub them with my thumb and forefinger. Arguing with him is pointless, so I sigh. “Whatever. Just please, for the love of God, go put some pants on before MJ faints.”
“Fine,” he grumbles and makes for the short hall that leads to the bedrooms.
“It’s safe to open your eyes now,” I state then head straight for the fridge. “You want wine?” I ask. “'Cause after that, I do.”
“And some bleach if you’ve got it,” she gripes, lowering her hands.
“I heard that!” Bates yells from his room.
MJ shocks the shit out of me by yelling back, “You were meant to!”
I can’t help but laugh. The shy little wallflower is giving my pro-athlete brother shit, and I love it.
“I see what you meant now,” MJ says as I hand her a glass of white wine.
I open the cabinet beside the fridge and grab a bottle of Advil before dropping two in my palm and putting it back. I down them with a hearty swig of wine. “Yep.”
Bates returns—wearing pants, thank God—and frowns at us. “Where’s mine?” he asks, pointing at our glasses.
“You can get your own,” I mutter, then I grab MJ’s discarded shopping bags. “Come on. We can get ready in my room.”
“Oh, where are we going?” Bates asks, trailing behind us.
I snort. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Come on, Lenny. It’s Friday night. I’m bored. Take me with you,” he pleads, throwing a pout in for good measure.
“Go hang out with Archer or one of the guys,” I tell him, standing in my doorway to block his entrance.
His shoulders droop, and he looks at his feet. “Don’t you want to spend time with me?” he asks in a pathetically forlorn tone.
“Nope,” I retort cheerfully then slam the door in his face.
“What was that all about?” MJ asks, her brows furrowed in concern. “Is he okay?”
I shrug. “He’s fine. He’s trying to get in your pants.”
Her big, brown eyes widen. “What?”
“You don’t honestly think he wants to spend time with me, do you?” I chuckle then sip my wine.
Poor MJ looks both intrigued and horrified. “He doesn’t even know me,” she murmurs.
“And that matters because . . .”
“How can he want to sleep with me if he doesn’t know me?” she asks, genuinely confused.
I don’t even remember a time when I was that innocent. I plop in the armchair by the window and throw a leg over one side. “MJ, babe, women throw themselves at Bates on the daily. You covered your eyes instead of ogling his man meat. You just presented him with something he’s never had before.”
She plonks on the edge of my bed and tilts her head. “Why do women throw themselves at him? I mean, he’s good-looking, but he’s no Zac Efron.”
“I take it you don’t follow baseball then,” I say.
She shakes her head slowly. “Not really.”
I grin. “Bates is the star batter for the Phoenixes.”
Her jaw drops. “Oh,” she breathes.
“He’s a player on and off the field,” I explain. “Not to mention, you’re freaking adorable. Pretty sure no woman has ever shied away from his junk before.”
MJ flushes again and gnaws on her bottom lip. “It’s not like I’ve never seen a naked man or anything. It’s just…I wasn’t prepared to walk in on that.”
“Dude, it’s fine. Neither of us was expecting to see my brother’s baloney pony. You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” I assure her. “If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s me.”
She frowns and sips her wine. “Why?”
“Because I brought you to my place to chill while we get ready for tonight, not so we’d both be scarred by the sight of my buckass naked brother.”
Her lips curve into a small smile. “I won’t hold it against you.”
We spend the next couple of hours getting ready and finishing off a bottle of wine. A soft knock on my door has my eyes narrowing. It better not be Bates again. I swing it open, ready to tell him where to go, but it’s Emory.
She eyes me up and down. “Lookin’ good, girl,” she says, taking in my black miniskirt with gold and bronze sequins that I’ve paired with a simple, black, fitted tank. “Where are you off to?”
Opening the door wider, I let her in then gesture to MJ. “This is MJ. I’m trying to poach her from her current agent.” Then I reverse the introduction. “MJ, this is my girl, Emory. She lives here, too, but not for much longer.”
They smile at each other and exchange polite greetings.
“I’m taking MJ to rub shoulders with some bigwigs in the industry tonight. It’s time to get this girl noticed,” I say, picking up my straightener and running it through my long, dark-purple hair.
MJ is wearing her new wedges with a cute, black, long-sleeved, skater-style dress that ends just above her knees. Her shiny blonde hair hangs in waves, brushing the tops of her shoulders and framing her face. She looks like an adorable badass.
“I’ll leave you two to it, then,” Em says. “I was just seeing what you were up to tonight. It was nice meeting you, MJ. I’m sure you’ll knock ‘em off their feet.” She winks at MJ then leaves us.
Flicking off the straightener, I turn to face MJ. “You ready?”
She smiles shyly. “As I’ll ever be.”
Unsurprisingly, Bates is lurking in the hallway, waiting to ambush MJ, I’m sure.
He’s dressed in a pair of black dress pants and a white button-down that’s rolled to his elbows, exposing his tattooed forearms. He’s even got his eyebrow ring in and a diamond stud in his left lobe.
“Dressed to impress, I see,” I say as I stride past him. “Decide to go out with the boys, did you?”
“Nope,” he says. “I’m going with you guys.”
MJ’s eyes dart from me to my brother as we stare each other down in the living room.
After three minutes, I give in. It’s not really a big deal if he comes along. “Fine, but you have to be on your best behavior,” I tell him, jabbing a finger against his chest.
A massive grin splits his face. “I’m not making any promises.”
I shake my head and stalk toward the door. “Let’s roll.”
The car I ordered is waiting for us at the curb when we get downstairs. I slide in first, followed by MJ, then Bates. By the time we make it across town to the bar where this mixer is being held, Bates has his arm around MJ’s shoulders, and she’s blushing furiously as he whispers something in her ear.