Maddox (The Italian Cartel #4) - Shandi Boyes Page 0,1
but to man up and hit me back.
We go blow for blow for the next several minutes, only stopping when the coach from our high school wrestling team mistakes our fight as literal. “This is why I invoked the sibling code. You two will kill each other one day.”
The redness lining Coach Merritt’s face triples when Saint has the audacity to laugh. High school feels as if it was decades ago when you’re a senior in college, but you can be assured as fuck I haven’t worked up the courage to laugh in a teacher’s face just yet. I’m not a coward by any means, I just know how to pick my battles. Coach Merritt isn’t the wrestling coach of a state championship team for no reason. His size alone exposes he’d face no issues putting Saint on his ass, much less a cabinet full of trophies in our high school gymnasium.
“He isn’t laughing at you, Coach,” I push out breathlessly when the heat on Coach’s face looks close to boiling over. “He’s laughing at the fact he’d rather act like a pussy than eat one.”
Coach chokes on his spit. It’s barely heard over the warning growl rumbling up Saint’s chest. He’s about ready to blow his top, and I’m right there, willing to push him over the edge like all little brothers should be.
With the swagger of a man not being eyeballed as if his head is on the chopping block, I backhand Saint in the chest. “Come on, Saint, admit it. You’ve been drooling over the same girl for years.”
“Yeah, so?”
Don’t let his honesty fool you. He isn’t doing it because he’s a stand-up guy. Lying just isn’t a Walsh forte. If you want us to sugarcoat things, you better offer one of us a scholarship in baking because that’s the only way we’ll sweeten things up for you.
Loud and proud isn’t our motto either, but you won’t ever doubt when a Walsh is in your vicinity. That’s why I’m shocked about Saint’s constant sitting on the fence when it comes to Demi. She’s drop-dead gorgeous, smart, and witty, has never been seen with a man who isn’t related to her by blood, and she forever glances his way when we’re dancing in the ring like we’re destined to become the next Conor McGregor. Her last name leaves a bad taste in your mouth any time you say it, but come on, doesn’t the abovementioned make up for that?
When Saint remains quiet, I wordlessly demand he return his Town Stud badge with a two-finger clap. When my voiceless command doesn’t have him coughing up the goods, I throw words into the mix. “You can’t keep a title you’re not willing to uphold.”
“Fuck off, Maddox. Don’t try and pin your bullshit on me.” He smacks me up the side of the head before he moves to the ropes to scrub the sweat off his face with a towel hanging off the top rung. “From what Landon told me, you haven’t done much… pussy eating yourself.” A gleam I know all too well sparks through his eyes before he says, “When I was a senior in college…”
The growl that finalizes his statement pisses me off. I’ve been crushing on Demi for years. I’m not talking she’s-real-pretty-and-I’d-like-to-get-to-know-her-some-more crush. I mean, crush crush. She’s ruining all my hookups crush. Stick-me-with-a-fork-I’m-fucking-done crush. And they’re just examples of when I’ve caught the occasional smile she’s tossed my way the past five years.
I’m a fucking mess, and Demi Petretti is solely responsible for the carnage.
Fortunately for me, the Walsh men aren’t just masters at brawling, barbecuing, and philandering, we’re also really fucking good at hiding our emotions as well.
While smirking like the smug fuck I am, I add to Saint’s mortification that he said ‘pussy eating’ in public. “As I’ve told you before, Saint, if your big brother is still chaperoning your dates, you’re doing it wrong.”
He hits me with an evil sideways glare, doubling my smile. “How about you be fucking honest for once? We both know why you’re pushing me on this.” I almost reply, ‘cause you’re a pussy, and it’s my job as your little brother to push your buttons, but he continues talking, foiling my endeavor. “Because you’re hoping she’ll reject me, then you can slot into my place.” He tosses the towel back over the ropes, stands tall, then puffs his chest out. “News flash, bozo, that’ll never happen because I’ve never been rejected.”