Scoring by Mia Watts Page A

better pass than that. Give her the contract next time.”
    Margie, one of the girls that hung out with them, was known for her lack of grace. The insult to the Vikings wasn’t a mild one. Jay smiled.
    “You think Margie would sign on? She’d be amazing as a kicker,” Jay tossed in lamely. He’d had nothing really to say, or to add, but he’d wanted in on the one-sided conversation.
    Martin shot him a funny look. “Dude. That made no sense.” He turned his attention back to the flat screen.
    “Yeah, it did. Because Margie wears those pointy shoes, and she’s got curly hair, so—”
    “You’re not selling it,” Martin scoffed.
    “We should go to Beertopia to watch the game next time. S’way cooler with a crowd.”
    Martin lobbed a kernel of popped corn at Jay. It pinged between his eyes. “Like you’d be any less distracted in a crowd. Right. Whatever.”
    “I’m not distracted,” Jay protested.
    “The fuck you aren’t. Madden has stuttered at least five times, and you haven’t lifted your beer once. Can’t be a drinking game if you don’t play along.”
    “Game’s boring.”
    The look of disbelief on Martin’s face should have been a warning. Martin lifted the remote and hit the pause button. “Not ten minutes ago you were agreeing with me that the coaching staff is on crack. Now, you’re pretending that the hottest game of the season isn’t. What the fuck, man?”
    “The hottest game of the season would be against the Detroit Lions.” Jay folded his arms across his chest. Having Martin’s complete attention was a little heady. He needed to piss Martin off. Needed to keep from kissing that luscious wide mouth Jay couldn’t keep his eyes off of.
    “You’re high.”
    “I’m right,” Jay argued.
    “You’re high .” Martin got up and swished his empty beer bottle. “Want one?”
    “Get yourself a wine cooler. I’m not sure you’re ready to watch football and drink beer with the big boys.”
    Martin’s eyebrows climbed slowly. “I see. And let me guess. You’re a big boy? Do you need pull ups or just your sippy cup?” Martin sauntered to the small galley kitchen in their apartment.
    Jay got up too, starting to feel his ire grow. This was good. He needed it. For the sake of sanity, they both needed it even if Martin didn’t know he did. “Only if it’s filled with Jack.”
    “As in, Jack shit ?” Martin teased.
    “ Daniels . But I forget that Jack may be too strong for a guy who thinks this football game is the epitome of pig-skin awesome.”
    Martin had been reaching into the fridge as Jay blocked the galley exit. He turned and the glass bottom of his beer clanked loudly on the granite surface as he set it down. “What’s your beef, bro?”
    “About ten inches.”
    Martin laughed. “I’ve seen you naked. That might work in a bar, but I know better. You’re seven at best.”
    “That’s not what your sister said,” Jay snarked.
    Martin’s blue-gray eyes turned stormy. “Seriously. What the fuck ?”
    Yeah, they were all stupid low blows designed to piss Martin off. Jay actually liked his sister. She was a sweetheart, and Jay would sooner cut his balls off than make a play for her. Even if he were straight.
    Instead of fessing up, Jay shrugged negligently. “Just sayin’.”
    “Did you fuck my sister?” Martin asked tightly.
    Jay’s eyes widened. Shit, that hadn’t been taken at all like he’d expected. Martin actually thought he’d do that?
    “No, man, it’s a figure of speech.” He lightly shoved the other man’s chest, but his fingers met rock-hardness.
    Martin grabbed Jay’s fingers where they were. “Don’t fuck with me. Did you, at any time, make a move on or dangle your cock in the vicinity of my kid sister?” His face was tight, cold eyes stared back at Jay, and his wide lips had lost their pretty fullness.
    “I haven’t touched her.” Jay lowered his voice, hoping to convey his absolute sincerity. “I wouldn’t touch her.