Page 6 of Mr Nice Guy

“That’snotwhat we were talking about,” I grate out, sending him a frustrated glare.

“Do I need to hire a court reporter to read the conversation back to you?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t try to gaslight me, man.”

I roll my eyes and walk over to my brother, grabbing the rugby ball he’s holding out of his hands, merely for something to do. It’s not as though I’m an overly self-conscious guy, but I really don’t need all my brother’s friends thinking about me giving blow jobs. They’re way too interested in my dating life as it is.

“He’syourfriend,” Sullivan says with a twitch of his lips.

“Shut up,” I grumble.

Fortunately, Skyler has a knack for being easily diverted, so just as Spencer is about to call us together to lay out the plan for practice, Sky butts in and takes the opportunity to test his theory. “Hey, congrats Spence. Glad to see you and Will have made up.”

Fucking hell. If he’s wrong about this Spencer’s going to explode. I mean, it’s not as though Spence has anger issues or anything, but breaking up with the love of your life because you think he’s screwed you over by outing you to the press is bound to shorten anyone’s fuse. Let’s not even go into how the actual culprit was my brother’s asshole ex.

Fortunately, Spencer doesn’t explode. He just stares at Skyler, completely slack-jawed. “What...how…I haven’t even told these guys yet…” he finally manages to stammer out, sounding very much unlike his usual calm, composed billionaire CEO self.

Skyler rolls his eyes. “If you were hoping to keep it under wraps you shouldn’t have worn one of your boyfriend’s t-shirts.”

I eye the dark blue t-shirt Spencer’s wearing. At first I don’t understand how Skyler could know it’s one of Will’s—we’ve only met him a couple of times and I definitely don’t remember seeing him in this shirt. But then I look closer at the white print on the front and realize it’s an artsy image of a dalek fromDoctor Who,one of Will’s obsessions.Well spotted, Skyler.

“Also you have this whole orgasmic glow about you,” Sky adds. He scans critical eyes up and down Spencer’s body, tilting his head this way and that the way Jackson does when he’s inspecting the damage on the outside of a car. “Are you sure you’re up for practice today? Looks like Will went pretty hard on you last night. You sure you don’t want to rest up and take a soak in a nice warm bath?”

Spencer yanks the ball from my grip and tosses it to Skyler—or, more accurately,atSkyler—hitting him in the chest with enough force to prompt Sky to let out a grunt. “Shut the fuck up and get into position. We need to make the most of today and next week seeing as these two have decided to ditch practice the week before the tournament.”

“It’s our sister’s wedding,” I say defensively, unable to stop myself from cowering back a little under Spencer’s disapproving glare. It’s not as though Sully and I are choosing to miss Saturday practice in a deliberate attempt to screw over the team. And this is an amateur comp anyway, not the fucking World Championship. The only person who takes it as seriously as if his life were on the line is Spence.

“Her wedding’s on the Sunday,” Spencer shoots back.

“How about we get on with practice?” Charlie Campbell, my brother’s best friend and Skyler’s future boss, suggests.

Everyone murmurs agreement, looking relieved to be actually getting on with what we all came here for. And I don’t blame them. Giving up a large chunk of a Saturday afternoon is a lot to ask, especially for guys who don’t get a whole lot of free time. But the annual New York rugby sevens tournament is only a few weeks away and we all want to win—even if it is just an amateur comp.

To be honest, I can’t even really remember how I got into playing rugby. I was a football guy in high school, but college ball had a completely different vibe and after a year I knew it wasn’t for me. I guess the whole rugby thing just started as a bit of fun with my frat brothers, and then once I’d graduated Sullivan recruited me for this team and I dragged Skyler and Jax along with me.

The difference in age and paychecks was a little intimidating at first—my brother and his friends are some of the wealthiest guys in the country, after all—but that sorted itself out pretty quickly once I saw just how normal they all were.

“Deacon, have you been working out?” Bryce Kennedy asks me from his spot in the back row of the scrum. “Your ass looks very toned today.”

“I think it’s the shorts,” Jackson comments. “They accentuate his natural curves.”

“Stop staring at my brother’s ass,” Sully says from next to me.

“What? I can’t compliment a buddy?” Bryce asks. “Your butt looks great too, Sully.”

“You realize how gay you sound right now, don’t you?” Sullivan says, and I can hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Well it’s not like I’m saying I want to fuck it,” Bryce shoots back.

I give a wry shake of my head. Okay—almostnormal.

“Crouch,” Spencer calls, prompting us to stop pissing around and tighten up our formation. “Bind…”

***

After practice, Skyler and Jackson come back to my place to chill out for a bit. I’m keen to watch the Notre Dame game, but Skyler’s done with sports for the day and wants a reality binge. And because Jackson can never resist giving Skyler whatever he wants, we end up settling on aDrag Race UKmarathon.

“Just remember you did this to yourself, man,” I say to Jackson, giving a wry shake of my head.

“You sure you don’t wantNext Top Model?”he suggests again, a little more insistent this time. I have no doubt that he’s been thinking if he’s going to be stuck watching reality TV, at least we could watch something with a bunch of hot women.

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