Page 11 of Fluke
“Sounds like ayou problemto me.”
“You’re not even thinking about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about, Sparkles.” I pause to enjoy his irritation at my new pet name for him.Worth it. “I know you’re having a quarter-life crisis because Maddox stopped letting you suck his tit, but that has nothing to do with me.”
He starts to respond, but a sports news break sidetracks him.
I twist my bottle between my fingers and close my eyes.
As much as Banks is the youngest child in his glory, I’m the proverbial middle child. I value my independence over everything. The idea of having someone around all the time makes me feel claustrophobic. I like to keep the peace, but I won’t be stepped on or manipulated—and if anyone, namely my siblings, wants to go to battle, I’ll win.
Period.
And that’s what this is with my youngest brother—a battle of wills.
“Just hear me out,” Banks says, ignoring my groan. “You and me tearin’ it up. Bad boys for life. Hanging out in the garage, ordering pizza, turning some wrenches.”
“What you mean is we can hang out inmygarage,Ican order, andIcan pay for pizza, and you can usemy toolsto fuck around with whatever project you have going on?”
He slowly blinks. “I mean, I can order it if you want.”
“Banks…” I watch as he rests his head on his hands. “You have your own house.”
“Why does everyone use that as an excuse? ‘Banks, you have your own house.’ Like I don’t know that, but it’s not the point.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’m tired of hearing ‘Why are you in my house, Banks?’ I want to feel like I’m supposed to be there.”
“Well, you’re not. So there’s that.”
A knock raps on the door.
“Who is it?” I shout.
“Foxx.”
“Come in,” I yell.
“Hey.” Our eldest brother Foxx stands in the doorway. “What are you two doing?”
I give Foxx a look. He nods, understanding the situation at hand.
“We’re negotiating,” Banks says with a tired sigh.
“We arenotnegotiating, Sparkles,” I say.
Banks glares at me.
“A negotiation is a give-and-take,” I say. “That’s not what’s happening here, no matter how hard you try to force it.”
“Fine.” He looks at Foxx. “He’s right. I’m giving, and Jess isnot taking.”
“I haven’t been present for the entirety of this conversation,” Foxx says, hiding a grin. “But I’m certain that’s not the case.”
“How would you possibly know that?” Banks asks.
Foxx is amused. “I just came from Mom’s. Do you know what she was doing?”
