Page 7 of Flagrant Foul (Totally Pucked #3)

Teddy “T-Dog” O’Reilly

Then

Nate was at the stovetop humming. He used to do that all the time, hum a semi-tuneless melody that was cheerful and repetitive but frustratingly unplaceable. It was a song I was sure I knew. The title was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t name it.

Sev had the fridge door open and was bending down, one hand hooked over the door, swinging it absently as he rifled through the fruit drawer with the other.

When he straightened, he had an apple in his hand.

A Pink Lady. My mom bought them at the farmers’ market that was held in town on Sunday mornings.

They were bigger and juicier than the ones she got in the store. Sweeter too.

It looked small in Sev’s hand. Soft pink that faded to green near the stem.

His fingers curled around it easily, tips almost touching as he held it.

He was wearing a black tank that had once been a boxy T-shirt.

He’d cut the sleeves off with a razor blade one night, and with time, the fabric had frayed.

He’d done a mediocre job of the alteration that only added to the appeal.

What was left of the right sleeve was narrower than the left and gaped under his arm more than it should have if modesty was his goal.

When he lifted his arms, I got a glimpse of black hair. Whenever it happened, the air in the room grew thick and moved around me more slowly than usual.

He straightened his hand and let the apple balance on his palm, then he tossed it and caught it easily with his other hand.

He did it a few times. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

Sev loved playing ball, and he did things like that all the time.

It was just that when he did it that day, my gaze landed just below the swell of his shoulder.

His bicep bunched into a tight ball that tied me in knots as it rolled slowly up and down his arm as he moved.

A strange heat spilled down my face and neck. Down my chest, and even lower.

I couldn’t look away. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to look away. It was that I couldn’t. I couldn’t make my eyes move, not even an inch. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t swallow.

His skin was tanned from days spent in the sun. Tightly wrapped over muscle and bone. There were four freckles on his forearm, erratically placed, yet they drew my eye to the vein that meandered down to his hand.

Sev was nearly eighteen by then. More man than boy.

More man than other boys his age for sure.

I knew him well. Better than anyone, almost. He was part of the family.

A brother who wasn’t blood. I knew everything about him, and not just the good things.

I knew the bad too. I knew his weaknesses. His flaws and his failings.

It’s not that I didn’t. It’s just that, to me, they didn’t matter.

To me, he was perfect.

Nate was still humming and had started tapping the stainless-steel slotted turner against the edge of the pan as he readied himself to flip the omelet he was making.

Sev said my name and gently lobbed the apple to me when I looked at him.

I caught it and smiled, knowing what was coming next.

Sev was a creature of habit, someone who liked repetition and ritual.

This was one of his habits I loved best. One that existed for no reason but to put a smile on my face.

I turned the apple this way and that to find the perfect first bite. As I leaned in to take it, Sev dove in and bit into the apple before I had time to. Enamel crunched into soft, fleshy fruit .

He shook his head from side to side like a dog as he tore out his stolen prize.

I made a silly high-pitched sound that drew Nate’s attention. He looked at Sev, features neutral and friendly, and said, “Knock it off.”

If I’d been paying more attention to Nate, I’d have seen something in his eyes. A turn. A firmness that had never been there before when he’d spoken to Sev.

I wasn’t paying attention to Nate though. I was staring at the apple in my hand, watching in wonder as sweet, sticky juice that had touched Sev Delorean’s lips and teeth trickled slowly down my palm.

Before taking my first bite, I raised my hand to my mouth, glancing furtively to make sure Nate and Sev weren’t looking. When I was sure they weren’t, I put my tongue out, licked up the juice, and swallowed my secret.