Deirdre laughs at his dig, which encourages him to add, “And you better never give me crap about my house again. This is an eff-off mansion.”
I’m about to tell him to do just that when Jet and Colin return. Clueless as to the topic of conversation while he was out of the room, Jet grins down at me after setting his beer on the coffee table. “Hey. Look what the football fairy brought me.”
I flutter my lashes up at him.
“Tell her to move,” Greg advises.
“Nah. There’s plenty of room for all of us. Especially if…” He sits and pulls me into his lap, nuzzling my neck and tickling me.
“Gaah! Stop it!”
Rae half-turns and rolls her eyes at us. “You two mind over there? Some of us are trying to watch the game.”
“Sorry, Rae!” Jet says, ceasing the tickle torture but keeping his arms wrapped around me. “Having fun yet?” he murmurs near my ear.
“Absolutely. Go Pats!”
He winces. “That’s so wrong.”
I laugh. “Hey, I’m standing by my ‘losing-to-the-winners’ philosophy.”
“Go AFC!” he booms.
I cover my ear.
“There. That felt a little better.”
Greg shakes his head at us. “You two are—”
“Brilliant,” Colin supplies quickly, winking at me. “Now, someone explain to me what the bloody hell is going on in this match. I’m lost.”
For the rest of the first half, Jet and Greg take turns explaining the basic rules, but after about the fifth “Unless…” from Jet, Colin throws up his hands and says, “It’s hopeless. I’m too thick for this game. Too many rules!”
“Hey, if I can learn it and play it, nobody’s too thick,” Jet says with a wry smile as the two teams run into the locker room, and the stadium crew scrambles to set up for the halftime extravaganza.
“You’re not stupid,” Colin replies, “but you may be mad, going onto that pitch every week, with those blokes trying to flatten you.”
“It’s fun! And it’s the only thing I know how to do. So, that’s what I do. I’ve been doing it since I was five years old.” He considers that for a second. “Well, I haven’t been a quarterback all that time, but I’ve always played offense, so yeah. Defensive players have been trying to flatten me for almost twenty-five years.”
Everyone laughs at that.
Greg leans over. “Hey, Jet. Would you mind showing Deirdre and me around the place? Both of our houses are currently on the market, so it’d be interesting to get a look, to see if we’re priced competitively.”
I nearly snort beer into my lap, but Jet keeps a straight face. “Yeah, Maura told me about that. Whichever house sells first is the one you’re letting go of, right?”
Deirdre inspects her French manicure, but Greg replies, “Yep. That’s the deal.”
“I’d be glad to show you around. It’s not anything special. Just big.” He stands and leads the way from the living room. “It’s nice for everyone to have their own rooms when my family comes to visit.”
Greg, Deirdre, and Jet disappear, their voices fading up the stairs.
Rae heads toward the kitchen. “Your brother and his future bride are real pieces of work,” she says.
“Right? For crying out loud, I haven’t been upstairs yet in this place.”
Rae freezes. She and Colin exchange a glance.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing at all,” Colin says firmly.
“Well…” Rae hedges. “Never mind. It’s probably nothing.”
I follow her into the kitchen with Colin on my heels. “No, there was a definite look exchanged between the two of you.”
Assuming an innocent air, Rae roots in the fridge and comes out with another beer, which she pries open with the bottle opener on the counter. “I’m surprised, that’s all, that you haven’t seen… everything.” She punctuates that with wiggling eyebrows, so there’s no mistaking her meaning.
I peek at Colin and blush. He raises his hands in front of his chest. “Don’t look at me. I don’t find it odd at all.”
“Good. Because it’s not. We haven’t known each other that long.”
“You see or talk to each other every day. You’ve been to Hawaii together, where you shared a bed.”
“But nothing happened.” Although they both already know this personal detail, it’s somehow awkward to remind them together, face-to-face. “So what’s your point?”
“The guys I know and work with aren’t normally this, um, conservative. Not when it comes to things of an intimate nature.”
Colin flails his hands. “Blimey, say the word. Sex!” Then on a mutter, “And they say the English are repressed.”
Rae lasers a deadly look toward him. “Fine. Players aren’t slow to jump in the sack with people. Is that direct enough for ya, Princess Margaret?”
“Well, it’s not only his decision, you know?” I counter.
“You’re not usually this slow to jump in the sack with anyone either.”
“I’m sorry that Jet and I are not behaving sufficiently sex-crazed for you. There doesn’t seem to be any particular hurry, in this case. That’s all,” I say. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Colin edges toward the doorway. “I may check out the halftime show after all. Maybe I’ve simply never given hip-hop a fair shake.”
“Whatever.” I wave him off. I’d prefer not to have this conversation in mixed company. I’d prefer not to have it at all, as a matter of fact.
As soon as Colin is gone, Rae asks, “Who usually stops things?”
“I don’t know! One time the dog stopped us.” She raises an eyebrow at that, but I shake my head to let her know it’s not as exciting a story as it sounds.
“Hm.” She swigs from her bottle but keeps her eyes on me.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
Pulling her beer away from her mouth with a thwunk, she says, “Like what? Stop being so paranoid and weird. I’m just surprised, that’s all. You’re the one who brought up not seeing the guy’s bedroom yet.”
“And you turned it into a capital offense,” Colin startles me by saying from the other side of the kitchen doorway, where he’s obviously been listening the whole time.
I turn toward
