Page 40 of The Sleight Before Christmas

“It’s been a stressful year, okay?Once,” Eli spouts, his scowl for his oblivious wife, “maybetwice this year I didn’t go long game. She’s fucking exaggerating,” he excuses in exasperation. “Besides, it shouldn’t matter how long if you get the job donefor her, right?”

Brenden and I nod because it’s the brotherly thing to do. Blowing out a breath, clear fear in his expression, he cracks the window again.

“—Brenden’s balls are weird, y’all,” Erin delivers, and Brenden’s jaw immediately unhinges. “Like, I know balls aren’tattractive to begin with, but his just look ...weird.Like two little old men. Like little bald men with pointy noses.”

Shoving my beer between my thighs, I palm my mouth with both hands to stifle my laughter as Brenden cups his junk in indignation.

“I don’t go there,” Erin continues, “you know, tend to them. Ever.”

On his knees, a now seething Brenden maneuvers himself to blast his venom through the screen. “You sit on a throne of lies, my treacherous wife.”

Just after he releases it, Eli tackles him to the carpet, and I dodge them both, leaping for and closing the window as pained grunts follow.

“Co-vert...You... Stupid. Ass,” Eli grits out before Brenden takes the bait, and the two roll around on the floor, mostly ruining the integrity of the other’s sweaters with a touch of chin slapping between.

“Get the hell off me,minute man,” Brenden goes for the jugular as they begin a death roll for dominance, and Eli claps back.

“Fuck you and yourVoldemort balls,” Eli fires. It’s as I watch them wrestle—mostly each other’s sweaters—that my Spidey husband sense goes off.

“Fellas, stop. We’re turning on each other, and I think this ploy was intentional.” Acting on my hunch as they go at it, I slowly, so slowly, lift enough to peek out of the window and, at that exact moment, manage to catch Serena glancing in the direction of the window I’m peering through.

Bingo.

Sinking down and turning my back against the wall, I can’t help the smile blooming on my face as my grown-ass brothers continue to exchange love taps and low blows.

“You smell delicious,” Brenden says, pulling at Eli’s V-neck, “too bad your one squirtwon’t last.”

“Well, at least,” Eli manages through a triple chin tap from Brenden, “I get my balls sucked!”

“That’s my sister, you sick bastard!” Brenden quips before Eli hooks the side of his mouth with a finger. “Take it bwack.”

“This is why I don’t drink tequila,” I state as Eli—AKA the sane fucking brother—practically backhands Brenden and laughs maniacally.

“We’re so fucking busted,” I conclude, allowing them to get whatever alcohol-driven testosterone is fueling them out of their collective systems. Sometimes I guess guys just need to have a sweater slash bitch slap fight. Thankful those years are behind me, I decide to let them in on it. “They set us up.”

Eli’s face reddens as Brenden pins him, giving him two consecutive love taps on the chin with his fingers.

“And you idiots took the bait,” I state as they continue to wrestle on the floor, “like amateurs,” I spout aloud to no avail. “You’rebeing played,idiots,” I finally clip out loud enough to break them up. Both of them stop suddenly and slowly turn their heads toward me. Now straddling Brenden, Eli lifts his head a second before Brenden gives him pig nose.

“How do you know?” Eli inquires, nostrils lifted. “Four years and my spy record is fucking spotless.”

“I just know,” I quip, taking a long drink of my beer. “You’re busted, 007, or should we call you 005?”

“Unhand me, you heathen,” Brenden states, unraveling Eli’s fingers from the neck of his sweater before shoving Eli off. Eli lands on the hardwoods with an “oof” before popping back up.

“Women should rule the world,” I chuckle as the two of them start to straighten themselves. “We’ve so been set up.”

“Prove it,” Eli says.

“Happy to. But you’ll have to stop acting like cave dwellers and get over here.” Both start to army crawl over, but in a last-minute move, Eli thumps Brenden’s dick and scurries ahead. Brenden recovers with a curse, catching Eli’s ankle at the last second and dragging him back. Eli’s eyes bulge as Brenden starts pulling him in horror movie style along the hardwoods before I grip his hands and yank him free.

“Fucking stop!” I whisper-yell. “We’ve probably already missed all the best shit, along with everything else we’re being set up for. We can resume the fucking WrestleMania reenactmentlater.”

Brenden snaps to, his eyes earnest. “Promise?”

“Yes, now, shut the fuck up and listen.” They both crawl over as I press my finger to my mouth and inch it open.

“Oh, oh! Let’s do an impression of someone in the family and name them!” Whitney suggests as Serena immediately dives in, clearing her throat dramatically. “If it’s not about me, I don’t care!”

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