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Tyone 3.

“What are you gonna get today?” I ask my brother. Fall on campus is easily my favorite time and place. Still plenty warm, some of the trees are beginning to turn, and there is an air of anticipatory excitement with the rest of the school year stretched out before us with limitless possibilities.

Also, the coeds showing off some skin ain’t bad to look at either.

He glances at me, quickly looking forward with a goofy grin. “Ice cream.”

“Nah! Nope. Lyndell, you can not live on ice cream alone.”

“You aren’t a doctor.” I laugh at his retort.

“True, but I am your brother, and I’d hate for you to develop diabetes.” He shrugs, not concerned in the least. He knows what diabetes is, however, it’s more of an abstract concept to him at this point. No worries, I’ll keep us both in good shape.

“Buffet. I want a little of everything.” I’m not surprised; that’s his usual go to.

“I want to see a couple vegetables on your plates.”

“You can see them.” I chuckle, openly staring at him, waiting him out. “Doesn’t mean I’ll eat them.”

“I’m just— Hey!” Lyndell sees something or someone and takes off. He runs off the cement path and through the grass. Hestops in front of a woman and picks her up. She squeals. Shit. “LYNDELL!” I run after him and by the time I get to them she’s laughing and he’s talking her ear off about buffets. It’s camera girl. “Lyn, you can’t just pick up people whenever you feel like it.”

“Yes, I can.” He flexes his arms after he drops her back to the ground. “I’m strong.”

“I know you are, but you need to ask permission before you touch someone. You don’t want to make them uncomfortable.”

His expression is immediately remorseful. “Sorry.” He apologizes to her softly, his head down.

“He’s right, Lyndell, you don’t want to upset someone. But I’ll let you in on a secret.” She’s so fucking beautiful, even more so up close. Lyn bends his knees slightly so she can whisper to him, “I don’t mind your hugs, Lyndell. Best I’ve ever had.”

My brother stands up straight, his shoulders back and his head held high. “I give great hugs.”

“I know.” She smiles up at me, her brows dipping in question.

I thrust my hand out. She takes it immediately, the softness of her palm skittering along my skin and straight to my dick. “Tyrone Wicawiil. This goof’s brother.” Her eyes widen in surprise.

“The mascot.”

I nod. “That’s me.”

Her toffee-colored skin pinkens slightly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” I swallow hard, wondering what exactly she’s heard. Depends on who you talk to whether it’s my academic performance or the disappointment of my athletic career. “Lilly said you were single—handedly the best mascot the school has had in years.” She stumbles over the words and I’m thinking thatis not what she meant to say. I’m enjoying her nervousness far more than I should.

“I don’t know about all that, but I like that you were talking about me.” Lyndell snorts, but I’m not deterred. I give her a half grin and step a little closer to her. I don’t flirt often, I’m over 6 feet tall, in excellent shape, and my dark reddish-brown skin tone draws in the ladies. At this moment, and since the first moment I saw her a couple weeks ago, hers is the only opinion I care about.

“Wh-what are you two…where are you heading?” Before I can answer, Lyndell responds enthusiastically.

“Buffet. Pizza, burgers, mac and cheese…” he side-eyes me again, “vegetables, and ice cream.”

“Lyndell,” I grumble, making her giggle. The sound hits me square in the solar plexus. “We’ve been over this.”

“Ice cream is good, but have you ever had fresh veggies with ranch dip? So good.” I dip my chin at her in gratitude that she’s picked up on my frustration with my brother’s diet.

“Ranch?” He turns to me. “Do they have ranch?”

“Yes, a lot of people eat it on their salads.” He wrinkles his nose, I’m very familiar with his opinions on rabbit food.

“You don’t have to eat it with lettuce,” she continues. “Just some broccoli and cauliflower, a few carrot sticks. Super tasty.”

“Hmm.” He’s suspicious, but open to it. I could kiss her! “I’ll try it if you come with us.” Dammit. He’s smooth. He’s getting ice cream. He knows how to play the game too well.

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