And sure, Beckett would be there tonight, and probably no one would try anything, but Becks would be catching up with Coury.
He could have that fun on his own. The absolute last thing Liam needed was to feel stupid when they inevitably started talking sports.
“I gotta shower.” He pinched his blue Harrison sweatshirt. “I ran eight miles on the treadmill. I stink.”
Pop winked at him. “Probably a good idea.”
Liam showered and eyed his drawers for what to wear. The choice was always the same: jeans and a T-shirt. He agonized over which was the perfect shirt until he grabbed the first one he saw and shoved it on. Coury was so out of his league it didn’t matter. Out of his league, and more importantly, out of bounds.
Brother’s best friends were forbidden.
It was a rule.
And Liam always followed the rules.
Chapter Two
Coury
Coury dropped his phone on the passenger seat with a fond shake of his head. Beckett was running late. Coury was early. The story of their lifelong friendship.
He killed the engine and grabbed the cupcakes he’d bought at the supermarket. Lame, but he’d been raised never to show up empty-handed.
A blast of icy air greeted him. He yanked his hood up and burrowed into the warm down for the short walk to the white Cape Cod. It had been years since he’d been to the house. Before he and Liam started college. When Beckett’s grandmother was still alive.
He pulled his free hand from his coat and rang the bell. No answer. Second attempt. Still nothing.
He rapped his freezing knuckles against the hard wood, and a dog barked.
A gust of warm air puffed around him as the door parted. Coury glimpsed short caramel hair, high cheekbones, and a dimpled grin. Liam angled his leg, keeping the excited white-and-brown terrier inside. “Slider, sit.”
Slider obeyed, for a nanosecond. The moment Liam looked up, he pounced again, soft ears flopping. A lofty laugh bounded out of Liam; his eyes glittered. “Slider!”
“Hey, Liam.” Coury smiled and quickly stepped inside. The warmth felt good. He toed off his shoes. “How’s it going?”
“It’s . . . going.”
As kid brothers went, Liam was cool. He had a smart bookishness about him, like he was constantly thinking about Pi—the mathy one, not the one filled with apple and cinnamon—and he tended to study a lot when Coury was around. In fact, Coury couldn’t recall a time Liamhadn’trun off to his room with assignments to do.
One thing Coury knew for sure, Liam was the least pretentious straight-A guy he knew.
Just the thought of someone being a dickhead to him pissed Coury off. He didn’t evengetit.
Okay, sure, Liam had a lean build, but he had a clearly masculine shape. Just an inch shorter than Coury and feet at least the same size.
“You’re frowning. Something wrong?”
Coury snapped his head up. “No, I was just staring at your feet.” That sounded sane.
“My feet.”
“They’re big.”
“Well . . . this just got awkward.”
Coury busted out a laugh, shaking his head vigorously. “Just take these.” He handed over the chocolate cupcakes. “I wasn’t sure what to bring.”
“Nothing would have been fine. Pop baked today.”
