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“You’d think so, but that wasn’t what they put on the T-shirts.” A growl rumbled in Gallagher’s chest as he pressed his phone to his ear.
Chapter 10
DEREK
If you can press snooze seven times, you could maybe consider changing your alarm time.
DYLAN
Your feedback is important to us. Please stay on the line and a customer service representative will be with you shortly. In the meantime, fuck off. Your dog woke me up at two thirty in the morning when he howled in his sleep.
DEREK
He has very vivid puppy dreams. And wow with the jokes today. Can’t imagine a worse way to wake up, except maybe a ceiling collapsing on top of you.
Dylan peeked out the front window several times to give himself an excuse to not look at Derek. This was the first time they were intentionally standing in the same room for longer than ten minutes since the bad news–heavy conversation with Uncle Liam. Uncle Liam had asked Dylan to have an architect second cousin do a quick check on the structure to make sure everything was safe before any other work started. Waiting for that report meant that Derek and Dylan—and Gus—had spent the last two weeks living in under seven hundred fifty square feet.
The distinctive sound of three red Chevy trucks rumbled into the parking lot.
“So, like, the first rule of flood club is that you can’t talk about flood club,” Dylan said, fidgeting with his hair and risking a glance at Derek.
Derek blinked.
“Have you only seen movies that involve spunky female leads and romantic grand gestures?”
“I know what Fight Club is, dickhead, but I just don’t know why you’re quoting it. Also, did you borrow one of my DVDs?”
“Um. No.” Dylan huffed as if the very idea was ludicrous and definitely not what he had turned on for background noise when his earbuds died last night while doing prep work downstairs. Christina Aguilera’s performance was underrated, and the world didn’t deserve Cher. Also, that Cam Gadget or Gidget or whatever dude was hot.
Despite not wanting to, Dylan called in the big guns for the brunt work, but his brothers could only all come on the weekends. Given that they were adding more joists based on the structural report, he was grateful they were coming, but still.
“I just meant, if you could not mention my part of the kitchen flood thing to my brothers, I’d be grateful.”
“Okay.” Derek looked out the window as Dylan’s three brothers came up the steps.
And there it was. Every girl at Dylan’s high school made that same face when they saw the giant hockey players. Dylan had played hockey too, but he’d been fast, not a big enforcer on the ice. Every Gallagher boy played hockey despite the fact that their father had clearly hoped for baseball players based on how he named his first three sons.
“Those guys are your brothers?” Derek whistled.
“Shocking, I know”
“No, there’s definitely a resemblance, but huh.”
Huh?
“Yep.” Dylan adjusted his glasses—one of the three pairs he’d ordered so he would never have to be without them again. He braced for the usual comments.
Derek gave him a funny twitch of the eyes. “It’s just—”
“Yeah, they’re incredibly tall, and people think they’re good looking. Brooks even played a season for the Capitals farm team before blowing out his knee. For the information I’m sure you’re most curious about… they’re straight, happily married, and yes, I’m very aware I’m the runt of the family.”
“No, that wasn’t—but actually—”
“As I said, I’ve heard it all before.”
The apartment door flung open, and his three brothers yanked him into noogie-accompanied hugs.
Anderson grabbed the baseball cap from Dylan’s head and tossed it to Brooks, trying and failing to entice Dylan into a game of keep-away. They could keep the damn hat. As Calvin, the brother with manners, shook Derek’s hand, Dylan went back inside to look for his phone.