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MUCH ADO ABOUT FLIRTING

FLYNN

" D ude.” Gryff rewound the video for approximately the hundredth time. “Look at your face when the donkey does that spin move. You got absolutely schooled. Better hope the scouts don’t see that.”

I threw a protein bar at his head. “Pretty sure you’re the one who ended up on your ass with Artemis.”

“Worth it.” My twin sprawled deeper into our ancient living room couch, his feet propped on a stack of League combine prep guides.

“Besides, that clip only has, like, ten million views. The one where Artie and I collide? Fifteen mil and counting. Every scout’s probably showing how badass I am at taking a hit to their teams now. ”

“You’re both idiots.” Isak looked up from where he was editing the footage for his InstaSnap.

“The best part is clearly when the donkey’s wings start flapping right before he hits top speed.

I’ve already got three workout supplement companies and an energy drink wanting sponsorship deals to use it. ”

The rest of us would make our millions with our pro football contracts, but for all I knew, Isak probably already had enough money to retire with the way he lined up sponsorships.

My phone buzzed and I turned the screen for Gryff and Isak to see. “It’s Pen. She says we’re catching a ride on Kelsey’s jet for the big Bowl. Jules is with us too. Dad is flying out with the boys on the Kingman jet.”

Crazy that we didn’t all fit on the jet anymore. Our family had grown last year. Well, not officially yet as Dec and Chris were waiting for the off-season to get married. We better be getting a tropical vacay out of wedding season.

“Four Kingman brothers in one very big Bowl.” Isak shook his head. “Plus the biggest popstar in the world. The media’s going to lose their minds. And I am here for it.”

My phone buzzed again. This time it was a video from Hayes recreating the donkey’s spin move during Bowl practice, much to the offense of the Mustangs’ amusement.

“See?” I held up the phone. “The donkey’s got skills.”

“If Hayes uses this as an end zone dance, it’ll definitely go viral. Baby DK is gonna make me and your girlfriend rich.”

I smacked Isak on the back of the head. “I don’t do girlfriends.”

Isak smirked at me. “Did you guys sign up for tutoring yet? Coach is asking.”

“It’s the second day of the semester,” I protested. “I haven’t even been to my Tuesday-Thursday classes yet. We don’t even know if we need tutoring.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Gryff pulled up the athletic department email on his phone. “Says here all team captains have to participate. ‘Setting a leadership example’ and all that.”

“Fine.” I grabbed my laptop. “But I’ve only got three classes. Doesn’t give me a whole lot of choices.”

“We’ve got Shakespeare.” Gryff scrolled through his schedule. “We could request the same tutor, make it easier to study around combine prep.”

“I heard we’ve got a visiting professor from Cambridge. It can’t be that bad.” Besides, I liked a good story. I wasn’t some dumb jock. I read a lot. Mostly sci-fi and fantasy. “Guy wrote plays about love and sword fights. I got this.”

Gryff rewound the donkey video yet again. “What’s up with that girl? The one who just held out her hand and the donkey went right to her? She’s like a freaking wizard or something.”

“Who, Tempest?” The name slipped out before I could stop it.

Both my brothers’ heads snapped up.

“First name basis already?” Isak’s grin was pure evil. “Interesting.”

“It’s not—” I started to protest, but Isak was already pulling up her InstaSnap.

“Tempest Navarro,” he read. “English major. Member of Kappa Alpha Tau. Oh, and look at that, she volunteers at the same animal sanctuary Trixie does. ”

“Bet that’s where she got the donkey,” Gryff added helpfully.

“Drop it.” I grabbed my combine prep guide, needing something to do with my hands. “I’ve got a no girlfriends rule. No more than two weeks with a girl ever, and I’m not wasting time trying to get into the pants of anyone who isn’t interested. Enthusiastic consent or I don’t want it.”

“Sure.” Gryff didn’t look convinced. “That’s why you’ve watched this clip forty times staring at her and not the donkey.”

“I have not?—”

My phone buzzed again. This time it was Jules.

Julinator: Saw the donkey vid. Very smooth. Try looking at the book she’s reading instead of just staring at her boobs, jackass. Might give you something to talk about...

I groaned and shoved my phone in my pocket. When your baby sister was giving you dating advice, you knew you were in trouble.

Not that I was interested in dating Tempest Navarro.

Two-week rule with women who were into me, and not looking for a commitment. That was the plan. It was a good plan. A plan that had never failed me.

“Dude.” Gryff’s voice broke into my thoughts. “You’re staring at the video again.”

I was. But this time I noticed something I hadn’t before .

The book in her hand was a well-worn copy of Much Ado About Nothing .

The same play on my book list for Shakespeare class.

Huh. I knew what I was reading tonight.

Gryff and I walked into the English building the next day more than prepared. No one could accuse the Kingmans of being dumb jocks.

The thing about being an identical twin was that you got used to people staring. The thing about being an identical twin who also happened to be co-captain of a D1 football team that won Bowl games was that you learned to ignore all that attention.

Mostly.

“Ten bucks says he asks us to sit on opposite sides of the room,” Gryff muttered as we entered the lecture hall.

“Twenty says he makes us wear name tags.” I scanned the rows of seats, trying to look casual when I spotted Tempest in the third row from the back.

She had her nose buried in a book again, or rather an e-book.

Damn. Made it harder to see what she was reading when there was literally no cover to spy on.

Gryff caught my glance and grinned. “Well, well. Look who’s here.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” He headed straight for the empty seat next to her.

Traitor.

I slid into the seat directly behind Tempest, while my twin dropped into the desk to her left. She didn’t look up, but I saw her fingers tighten slightly on her Kindle.

“Great turnout today,” Gryff said loudly. “Must be because of the reading material. I hear Much Ado About Nothing is quite the comedy.”

Still no response from Tempest, but the rest of the class was watching us like they were at a tennis match. Or maybe a football game.

“Indeed.” I leaned forward, close enough to see that she was reading something called Curvy Temptation . “Though personally, I’ve always thought Beatrice and Benedick had the right idea. Start with antagonism...”

That got me a tiny head tilt. Progress.

“Mr. Kingman.” Dr. Whitmore’s crisp British accent cut through the pre-class chatter. “And... Mr. Kingman. How lovely. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to sit on opposite sides of the?—”

“Called it.” Gryff held out his hand. I slapped a twenty in it.

“We’re good here, Professor.” I gave him my best responsible-student smile. “Wouldn’t want to disrupt your seating chart.”

“I don’t have a...” He trailed off, looking between us. “Which one of you is?—”

“Flynn,” we said in unison.

His eyes narrowed. Tempest’s shoulders shook slightly.

“Well.” Dr. Whitmore straightened his jacket. “Let’s begin, shall we? We’re discussing Much Ado About Nothing , which I assume you’ve all read?” His gaze landed on me. “Mr. Kingman?”

“Which one?” Gryff asked innocently.

Tempest tipped her head to the side like she was about to look back at me, but then changed her mind. It was enough for me to see her press her lips together, fighting a smile.

“The one behind Miss Navarro.” Dr. Whitmore’s tone could have frozen hell. “Since he seems so interested in Beatrice and Benedick’s antagonistic courtship.”

“Oh, you mean the way they use wit as a defense mechanism?” I didn’t look up from where I was doodling on my notebook. “Creating verbal barriers to avoid emotional vulnerability while simultaneously proving themselves intellectual equals? That antagonistic courtship?”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Tempest turned around slowly, her dark eyes wide behind her glasses.

“I...” Dr. Whitmore blinked. “Well, yes, actually. That’s quite?—”

“Though personally,” Gryff cut in, because we’d been tag-teaming class discussions since kindergarten, “I think it’s more about their fear of being publicly vulnerable. They’re both performers, living up to everyone’s expectations of their roles.”

Okay, that was a little pointed. Asshat.

“Like the way Benedick has to maintain his reputation as a confirmed bachelor,” I added, glaring at the back of Gryff’s head.

“While Beatrice gets to be the clever one who’s above it all.” Gryff nodded at Tempest, who was still staring at me like we’d all started speaking in tongues.

“Until they realize,” Gryff cut in before I could get another word in edgewise, “that those roles are actually trapping them.”

Dr. Whitmore opened and closed his mouth several times. Like some kind of British codfish.

“Though the public performance aspect is really driven home in the party scene,” I continued, mostly because Tempest hadn’t looked away yet and her shocked expression was doing funny things to my chest. I mean, well below my chest. Like in my pants.

My heart had nothing to do with this. “Everyone wearing literal masks while acting out metaphorical ones?”

“Mr. Kingman.” Dr. Whitmore had found his voice. “That’s... quite an interpretation.”

“Which Mr. Kingman?” Gryff asked.

I bit back a grin as our professor visibly reconsidered his life choices.

Tempest was still watching me, her expression somewhere between irritated and intrigued. I winked at her, and instead of the cute kind of blush I was used to getting for my attention, she huffed out a sigh, rolled her eyes, and turned back around.

Gryff grinned at me like the dickhead that he was.

I threw my pen at his head.