Page 113 of Flaunt
“I take offense to that,” I say.
Moss groans. “Of course, you do.”
“Hey, maybe you guys aren’t athletes anymore, but I could out wrestle every single one of you right now and beat you with one hand tied behind my back. So until you can unseat the champ, I’m still an athlete,” I say.
“Can you guys just start?” Paige yells through the phone. “I have to get back to work, and I want to see this.”
Dad steps onto the asphalt of the lightly traveled road. “I’ve already walked off thirty yards. Start here and go.” He points at the sign. “And the big boy there will clock you without any interference. Fastest speed wins. Remember—this thing clocks traffic in miles per hour, so we’re going for the fastestspeed, not the fastesttime.”
I do a few walking lunges to warm up the hamstrings. “Why thirty yards? Is Foxx too old for fifty?”
“It is going to be an absolute pleasure beating you today, Banks.” Foxx shakes his head. “I do have other things to do. Can we begin?”
“Like looking for your keys?” I ask, cackling.
Foxx puts one hand on his hip, his focus lasered on me. “You and I are going to have a discussion about that later.”
“Why?”
He holds my gaze for a moment too long—long enough to cause a surge of anxiety to travel up my spine.What does he want to talk to me about that for?
“I brought your key back to you from the grocery,” I say. “Didn’t Mom give it to you?”
He slides his attention to Dad. “Let’s get going.”
I spin around toward Mom.
“I gave it to him,” she says, shrugging.
What the fuck?But there’s no time to contemplate it. It’s go time.
The sun is still hot, soaking into my skin. Sweat dots my forehead as I pull off my shirt. I toss it to my girl, appreciating her appreciation of me.
“Like I said, you’ll start here,” Dad says, toeing a chalk line on the edge of the pavement. “Who goes first?”
“Oldest to youngest?” Maddox asks. “Youngest to oldest? Alphabetical?”
Mom comes forward with a hat. “I put names in here to avoid a war. Someone can draw the order.” She looks around. “Pippa? You want to do the honors?”
“Sure.”
“Are you betting anything on this?” Paige asks from my phone screen. “Or are we just doing this for bragging rights?”
“Ego,” Dad says.
“Got it,” Paige says.
I stand beside Sara as Pippa puts her hand into the hat.
“Let’s go, Chicken Mama,” I say, snaking my arm around Sara’s waist. She lays her head on my arm.
Pippa points my way. “Don’t think you’re going to get me upset with that nickname. I love those little chickies.”
My attention snaps to Jess. “Oh, isn’t that a surprise.”
Before he can reply, Pippa reads off the first name.
“Maddox,” she says. “You’re first.”
