“Gemma!” I shout, scandalized. I’m going to kill her.
You can’t kill her. If you do, who’s going to feed you? It’s annoying when Jiminy is right, and I’m sure my cheeks are as bright as the sun with how hot they feel.
“Turn your phone off all you want, Madz. You’re a Covenette—you know you can’t hide from a Coven Conversation.”
This is true, but I much prefer one of the guys being the topic of them, thank you very much.
Strong arms wrap around my middle, tugging me back until I feel that chest I just want to lick along my back. The scent of the sea has my eyes closing to properly breathe him in.
“You’re telling me our girl here was kissing and telling?”
Delicious shivers skitter down my spine from the stubble brushing the side of my neck when Dex nuzzles into me. If the gesture didn’t feel so good, I would elbow him in the gut.
“Our girl…” Gemma sighs dreamily.
My friend is a sight. Her dark hair is in its perpetual messy bun, canting to the side, her spatula is clasped in both hands as she looks over it with heart eyes, and she’s wearing a Hunger Games quote shirt that reads ‘I have zero interest in these Capitol people. They are only distractions from the food.’
“Don’t even start.” I point an aggressive finger at Gemma, and she tries—and by tries, I mean doesn’t even attempt in the least—to act all innocent.
I turn and shove Dex out the door before Gemma can say anything else. I have a feeling this isn’t going to be your typical book club.
Chapter Forty-Six
Maddey’s home is starting to feel like Mary Poppin’s magic bag, but instead of being stuffed with anything the nanny might need, it’s full of people.
Holy shit the number of bodies in here is staggering.
It has been over an hour since the last arrival made their appearance, and they have yet to discuss a book.
My girl has been in a huddle with my mom pretty much since she stepped in the door. I’ve kept my distance, because if I were near them, there would be no way for me to keep my recently declared feelings from showing. If that were to happen, Mom would have a wedding planning binder out before I could say hoo-yah.
“Do you guys actually talk about books during this thing? Seems to me it’s just an excuse for you all to get together and eat,” I say to Sammy and Jamie, who are to my left.
“After a week, you really think we are the type of group that needs an excuse to hang out?” Sammy shoots me a look that says Get your head out of your ass, Stone. Gotta say, he has a point.
“We’re just waiting for Jase to call then we’ll get started,” Maddey explains, shooing Trident and Navy away from sniffing the food laid out on the ottoman. The dogs have been good, not taking any of the food easily in their reach, but they sure have been begging.
“I don’t know.” Rocky stands off to the side, swaying back and forth while holding Ronnie. “Maybe we should start without him. I can already hear the ridiculous things he’s going to say when it comes to Jason Orson.”
“And Mels saying I can’t even,” Zoey calls out.
“Good thing she’s at the theater,” Ella adds.
It is a marvel of modern day science how a group of this size can all fall on the same wavelength and carry on the same line of conversation even when you think they aren’t paying attention.
The flat-screen on the wall lights up with a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head kissing, and Maddey answers with a “Hey, Trip” followed by all kinds of greetings and nicknames being tossed out.
“Sorry. I had to see Mels off first,” Jase says after a solid minute of exchanging salutations.
“And by ‘see her off’”—Cali hops over the back of Jase’s couch, taking the empty spot to join the call—“he means shove his tongue down her throat.”
Another minute goes by as the process starts all over with Cali’s arrival on the screen.
“I just want to start off by saying I don’t give a fu—” Jase cuts off the curse when he spots his nieces in the room. “Fudge how good Jason Orson looks in the towel. My ass is the best ass of all the Jasons in the world, and hockey butt trumps baseball butt any day.”
“Totally called it.” Rocky jerks a chin at the TV.
“Come on, Balboa.” Jase stands and turns so his ass is facing the camera. “You work with the athletes.” He points to his butt with both hands then cups it from underneath. “You trying to tell me this isn’t better than baseball butt?”
“Can you save your questions about your ass for your own woman?” Gage grumbles.
“Oh, relax, Octoman.” Jase waves him off. “I was only asking in a purely clinical sense. If I were fishing for compliments, Lyle would be my go-to person.”
“You know it, handsome,” Lyle cheers from somewhere behind me, and Jase points finger guns at him, sound effects included. “Take your pants off so I can really get a good look.”
I shake my head, biting back laughter. These people always make me feel like I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole and stepped into the craziness of Wonderland.
“Have I mentioned lately that I’m so happy I left my old book club for yours?” Mom says to Maddey, who laughs and holds the Oreo in her hand higher so Trident can’t lick it.
“How could we not have you, Peggy? You have the best book recs.” Maddey whistles for the two dogs to follow.
The argument over baseball butt versus hockey butt continues as Maddey gives each dog a scoop of food to keep them from begging for scraps.
“For as much as I love Jason Orson, Knox Gentry is still my fave book boyfriend of Meghan Quinn’s Brentwood baseball series,” Maddey says as she retakes her seat.
I probably shouldn’t be jealous of her talking about a fictional character, but I am. I’m sure part of it stems from not being able to be her real boyfriend because of her refusal to admit she loves me.
While I sit and stew over unwarranted emotions, the discussion and debate rages, topics changing in the blink of an eye. With Maddey’s one comment, they are now talking about three books instead of one.
For fifteen minutes, I make a valiant effort to follow along, but eventually I shift my focus to watch the dogs play. It’s a damn good thing I did.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Book club.
Typically it’s a controlled type of chaos, but today we are in rare form. It doesn’t help that The Lineup is the third book in the Brentwood baseball series by Meghan Quinn, one of my favorite authors and human beings. When we read all the books in a series, things do tend to devolve quickly.
The guys take things way too seriously. It’s one of the reasons the girls and I actually have a separate club where we still get to read the hockey books I’ve had to eliminate from this one and the bully romances we are all addicted to.
It should come as no surprise that sports romances are the bulk of what we read for BC, but if the boys keep fighting like children, we’re going to run out of sports to read about. In my personal opinion, I like all the uniform bottoms.
Baseball pants and how they are tapered? Yes, please. And yes, baseball butt is a thing, and it is glorious.