Page 68 of Star Crossed
Chapter Thirteen
May
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Tino groaned, face pressed against the comforter as he lay sprawled across Romeo’s bed in the master bedroom wearing nothing but a towel. “Fucking hicks. Even my toes hurt.”
Romeo should have told Tino to shut up and stop complaining. He wanted to be a professional fighter. This is what pro fighters did: they hurt and they learned to love it and Romeo might have explained it if he could have done more than groan and fall into bed right next to Tino.
“I’ll pay you five thousand dollars to rub the knots outta my shoulders,” he offered his brother, being dead serious. “This jujitsu shit is killing me.”
“Fuck you.” Tino snorted. “I had that damn class again tonight. I can’t even move to scratch my balls. I’m covered in bruises.”
Romeo laughed into the comforter, his shoulders shaking, which nearly killed him. “I sent a video to Nova of all those girls beating on you. I think it made his life. He couldn’t even talk he was laughing so hard.”
Tino laughed with him, then groaned in pain. “These country chicks, I’m not even kidding you, they’re fucking hard-core. They’ll kill your ass and make it look like an accident. You drag the lakes around here and I promise you, there’s dumb assholes who tried to get laid by the wrong chicks floating at the bottom of it—concrete boots—and I think your girlfriend’s distributing them. Sadistic bitch.”
“Say it again.” Romeo reeled up and punched Tino in the side. “I dare you.”
“Motherfucker!” Tino gasped. Already sore, he grabbed his side and gave Romeo a look of disbelief. “You’ve gone oobatz for this chick. Sheisa sadistic bitch. I got the bruises to prove it. Wanna see?”
Romeo had to punch him once more, twice as hard, because he’d said it again.
Tino grabbed the edge of the comforter and rolled it protectively around himself, snuggling into Romeo as he did it, completely oblivious to personal space. “Where’s my real brother?” he asked, his voice muffled by the material. “You know, the one who’s notinsane!”
Romeo turned on his side, studying Tino, who was still wrapped up in the blanket, only the inky strands of his thick hair peeking out of the top of the protective cocoon. With his face hidden, it was easy to finally say out loud to someone besides Jules, “I love her, you know?”
“No shit.” Tino grunted, not sounding shocked by the revelation. “And you two areperfectfor each other. Mean.”
He rolled his eyes, hearing the whiny sound in Tino’s voice. They’d been working their asses off since they’d gotten to Garnet, and he had been separated from all his friends and family. Not to mention Nova; they both missed him after the long separation. With the exception of prison, this was the longest Romeo had been away from Nova. Tino hadneverbeen away from him. If Tino took off to party at the beach, Nova usually went with him and just worked out of his bags with his laptop.
Romeo couldn’t resist turning to Tino and then wrapping his arms around him. He hugged him through the thick comforter. “Betcha wish you had Nova on this trip with you instead.”
“Yup,” Tino said without hesitation. “He’s nicer.”
The irony of Nova being the kinder, more paternal older brother wasn’t lost on Romeo. The day he was considered crueler than an acting underboss for one of the biggest crime families in the United States was a sad day.
“How about if I make you something?” Romeo suggested, even if his body screamed in protest. He wanted to roll up in a comforter like Tino and sleep until his eyes stopped burning from exhaustion, but he just squeezed his brother tighter. “I think I got all the stuff for baked ziti in the fridge.”
“You’ll use Ma’s recipe?”
“I’m not making the sauce from scratch,” Romeo said, because that was going way too far. “But yeah, I’ll make it like Ma made it. Lotsa garlic.”
Tino pushed the comforter down, giving him a triumphant smile. “Okay.”
Feeling a bit like he’d just been played, Romeo dragged his tired ass into the kitchen and started making baked ziti. Now properly distracted, Tino followed him and started self-medicating his aches and pains with imported beer.
He was on his second one by the time Romeo was straining the pasta. The three months out of the party scene was starting to fuck with his tolerance because Tino was running his mouth like he’d had four tequila shots instead of two beers.
“And man, I’m not even kidding you, she was riding me like I was the horse and she just knocked over a bank, okay? The girls around here are hard-core, but they got skills. I definitely get why you fell in love with that Conner chick after Vegas. Nova doesn’t get it, but I get it. Cowgirls, they do it better,” Tino said enthusiastically. “Did I tell you Danielle’s father owns a farm? Like a real friggin’ farm that grows shit.”
“That’s cool.” Romeo dumped the strained pasta back into the pot to add the other ingredients.
“He’s gotta barn. Turns out doing it in the hay isn’t as hot as you’d think it is. That shit hurts. Stabbing you in the ass while she’s riding your—”
“Come on, man.” Romeo turned around from the stove to glare at his youngest brother. “I used to change your diapers. Hearing this shit disturbs me.”
“So tell me about your girl. You love her now? Fine. Where the fuck’s the details?”
“I’m not giving you details.”
