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SCHOOL OF JULES

FLYNN

T he suite buzzed with pre-game energy as Gryff and Isak argued over the last of the nachos, but I couldn’t focus on anything except my phone. I’d sent Tempest three texts in the past hour, each one carefully crafted to seem casual. Like I wasn’t thinking about her every five seconds.

Me: You watching the game?

Me: Wouldn’t want to miss the commercials. That’s the best part. Especially if they’re tear-jerkers.

And finally, the most recent.

Me: How’s our favorite four-legged friend?

No response. To any of them.

“Earth to Flynn.” Gryff elbowed me in the ribs. “You in there?”

I pocketed my phone and tried to look interested in whatever football talk I’d missed. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about the draft.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. The draft was definitely on my mind—especially since getting picked up by the Mustangs would mean staying in Denver. Staying near her.

God, what was wrong with me? I was in a VIP suite at the fucking Bowl, watching four of my brothers about to play in the biggest game of their lives, and all I could think about was whether Tempest was ignoring my texts on purpose.

“The draft?” Isak’s eyebrows shot up. “Since when do you worry about anything?”

He had a point. Fun brother didn’t worry about shit. As far as they knew. Fun times with Flynn was practically trademarked in my family. Nothing got to me. Even all the pressure that came with the captain-of-the-football-team spot I shared with Gryff hadn’t changed that. But lately...

My phone buzzed and I grabbed it so fast I nearly dropped it. Just the Sport Network app with a game notification. Damn it.

“Okay, what’s her name?” Jules appeared at my elbow, a knowing smirk on her face.

“What? There’s no—I don’t—” I stumbled over the denial, which was basically admitting guilt to my baby sister. Jules could smell relationship drama like a shark smells blood in the water.

“Uh-huh.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the snack table, away from the rest of my gossipy family. “Spill. ”

I busied myself loading up a plate with wings, buying time.

Through the suite’s sliding windows, I could see our brothers warming up on the field.

Chris was running plays with Hayes, Ev, and the offense, while Dec worked with the defense.

This was what I should be focusing on. I hoped to join Dec on the field next season.

“Flynn.” Jules’s voice had that same stern tone Mom used to use when she caught us in a lie. God, she reminded me of her. “You’ve checked your phone seventeen times in the past twenty minutes. I counted.”

“It’s nothing,” I insisted, but even I didn’t believe myself. “Just my Shakespeare tutor?—”

“Uh, but you love two fiction genres...sci-fi and Shakespeare.” Jules’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, you’re flunking your class to get with your tutor? You’re disgusting.”

“I’m not flunking anything,” I corrected quickly. “We’re in a peer tutoring program. And I don’t like her. She’s stubborn and sarcastic and completely immune to my charm and—” I stopped, realizing I was only digging myself deeper.

Jules batted her eyelashes at me, grinning all innocent like. “Go on.”

I sighed, dropping into one of the plush chairs with my mountain of wings. “It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s so not interested.”

“The great Flynn Kingman, struck out?” Jules perched on the arm of my chair. “This I have to hear.”

“I didn’t strike out,” I protested. “I haven’t even... I mean, we’re just...” I shoved a wing into my mouth, frustrated. “I don’t know what we are. She’s different. ”

“Different how?”

“She’s not like the girls I usually... date.” The words came out before I could stop them. I didn’t so much date, as...fuck.

Jules’s expression shifted from teasing to serious. “You mean because she’s plus-size?”

“What? No, that’s not—” But Jules cut me off. How did she know that Tempest was a thick girl anyway? She had to have some kind of spy network.

Besides, I’d slept with plenty of thick and curvy girls. Hadn’t I? I frowned.

“But she’s beautiful.” The words came out automatically, because they were true. Tempest was gorgeous, with her curves and her smile and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about...anything.

Jules smacked me on the back of the head and gave me her patented you’re-a-dumbass glare. The one where she expected us to realize what dumbassery we’d done and to fix it immediately.

“Hey. What the hell was that for, brat?”

“I thought I raised you better than that, big brother. Have you legit fallen prey to the idea that being fat and being beautiful are mutually exclusive?” She glared at me. “Because I have very specific ways to reeducate you that involve death and dismemberment.”

Oh fuck. I’d just made my beautiful baby sister feel less than, and I deserved whatever punishment she meted out.

I set down my food, did the same with hers and then wrapped her into big bear hug. “I swear I didn’t mean it like that, princess. You know I think all women are beautiful. And I’m sorry if how I acted or what I said made you feel anything different.”

“Okay. I won’t taint your Cheerios with the most vile additives I can come up with,” Jules gave me a squeeze, and then punched my arm, a little harder than I expected.

“And by that, I mean I won’t pee in them.

I’ll forgive you, even if you are a total horndog who never dates anyone longer than two weeks. ”

“I’m not liking how you know so much about my love life.” But I couldn’t argue. It was true. I’d never wanted anything longer than a fling. Until now.

The suite erupted in cheers as something happened on the field, but my phone buzzed again and this time it actually was a text from Tempest.

Tempest: The donkey says hi. Now stop texting me and watch your brothers win.

I smiled stupidly at my phone.

“Oh brother,” Jules sighed, but she was smiling too. “You are in so much trouble.”

She had no idea.

The first quarter flew by in a blur of spectacular plays. Chris was on fire, connecting with Hayes for two massive gains, and Declan’s defense was crushing it. But during the first commercial break of the second quarter, the energy in our suite shifted.

“Here we go,” Trixie said, practically vibrating with excitement. “The KnightWear commercial is up first.”

I’d heard about these ads but hadn’t paid much attention to the details. Something about body positivity and our brothers’ partners. But after my conversation with Jules, I found myself watching with new eyes.

The KnightWear ad started with Everett talking about Mom.

My throat tightened. It always did when anyone mentioned her.

But this was different. He was talking about how she’d taught us about self-acceptance, about seeing beauty in everyone.

The camera panned across people of all sizes wearing sexy pajamas, sharing their stories.

“Your brother’s a good man,” Dad said quietly beside me. I turned to find him watching the screen intently, his eyes suspiciously bright. “Your mother would be proud.”

Before I could respond, a loud snort came from the neighboring suite. “What is this touchy-feely crap?”

My jaw clenched. Dad’s expression darkened, but before he could move, Jules grabbed his arm. “Don’t. We’ve got something better coming.”

She was right. A Swoosh commercial aired next, featuring Kelsey Best, popstar extraordinaire who was about to join our family as Declan’s wife, singing about self-love and acceptance.

The camera showed people of all shapes and sizes making heart symbols with their hands, including my family members.

“Did you know about this?” I asked Gryff.

He shook his head, grinning. “Nope. But it’s pretty awesome.”

More jeers floated over from the next suite, but they were drowned out by the cheers in ours. I found myself thinking about Tempest, wondering if she was watching these ads too. Wondering what she thought about them.

My phone buzzed.

Tempest: Okay, these commercials are actually making me cry a little.

I smiled, typing back quickly.

Me: Wish I was there to wipe those tears away for you.

The moment I hit send, I realized how much I meant that. I wanted more than to have a fling, or get in her pants. I wanted whatever this was between us, to be something real.

“Earth to lover boy,” Gryff elbowed me. “Chris just threw a touchdown while you were making googly eyes at your phone.”

I looked up in time to see the replay. Chris to Hayes, beautiful spiral, perfect catch. The suite erupted in cheers.

“Sorry,” I muttered, shoving my phone in my pocket. “I’m watching.”

“No, you’re not,” Gryff said, but he was smiling. “And that’s okay. It’s kind of nice seeing you actually care about someone for once.”

“I care about people,” I protested.

“Yeah, for exactly two weeks.” He gave me a knowing look. “This is different though, isn’t it?”

Before I could answer, another round of crude comments floated over from the next suite. Something about “lowering standards.”

Dad stood up silently, his jaw clenched. Even after all these years, he still had that look that could send even the toughest among us, scurrying to their room, or to do their chores and homework. Without a word, he strode toward the door.

“Dad?” Jules called after him, worry clear in her voice.

But he didn’t respond. The suite fell silent as we heard him knock on the door next door.

“Should we...” Gryff started, but Jules shook her head.

“Trust me, those jerks are about to learn why Dad was voted meanest defensive player in the League.”

A few minutes later, Dad returned, looking satisfied. The neighboring suite had gone suspiciously quiet.

“What did you say to them?” I asked.

Dad just shrugged, but there was a glint in his eye that spoke volumes. “Just reminded them about good sportsmanship and respect.”