Page 179 of How to Lose at Love

“I’d introduce you to my older brother, but I’d like to keep dating you.”

– Dallas

“You must be Ryann.”

My brother greets Ryann cordially, but I can tell by the look in his eyes he hasn’t made up his mind about liking her yet, which is the exact reason he’s here.

Duke Colter doesn’t make trips across the country for anything but his agent, work, his girlfriend—or family.

We have an audience, of course. The twins have never been ones to mind their own damn business and fade into the background like they should be doing. Instead, they’re perched on the couch, watching the scene as if it were a play.

I glare at Drew, who’s less obviously gawking.

As the youngest, they’ve always been more in awe of Duke than I have. His fame and skill have made him their mentor and hero, but hero worship has never been my vibe.

I rest my hand on the small of Ryann’s back, guiding her to the couch so we can sit, my stomach growling.

“Dude, go make me a sandwich,” I demand of Drake, who instantly shakes his head.

“Dude, do it yourself.”

“Duke is here to see us, not you. I haven’t eaten, so go make me a fucking sandwich.”

Ryann nudges me in the ribs.

I roll my eyes. “Please, can you make me a sandwich?”

If she weren’t here, I’d tackle the cocky little bastard to the ground.

Duke nods at our brother.

Drake stands. Glares.

Stomps out of the room to make me a snack.

“He’s probably going to hock a loogie on the bread. You do realize that, right?” Duke says, chuckling.

He better not hock a fucking loogie in my food!

I crane my head to get a look in the kitchen, but Drake is out of sight, rooting through the fridge for meat and shit. The loud clatter of drawers opening and closing and plates being taken out of the cabinets makes it sound as if he’s never made a goddamn sandwich in his entire life.

“Could he be any louder?” Drew asks.

“Maybe you should go check on him,” Duke says, taking a seat in a leather chair across from the couch.

Drew pauses.

Glances at me.

Rises and shuffles to the kitchen reluctantly, looking over his shoulder like a sad boy who’s being sent to bed during the party.

“So,” Duke begins. “What’s been going on?”

“Shit, where do I begin.” I rest a palm on Ryann’s knee, then watch as my brother’s eyes follow the motion. “Eli gave me a call a few weeks ago. We talk a few times a week now that the Combine is coming up and stuff.”

The Combine is the scouting showcase for the professional football league where college players get the opportunity to perform physical and mental challenges in front of coaches, scouts, and team managers, like a pageant of sorts, but for athletes.

Duke nods. “Okay. And?”

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