Page 3 of Trick Play

Dylan followed me. “You gonna ask her about Laaarrry?” He stretched out the name.

I turned and poked his chest. “No, and you aren’t either.” When I was a kid and Dylan discovered my crush on Larry Han he’d made my life miserable with teasing. I’d hid anytime Larry came over to birthday parties at our place. “Or I’ll stuff those handcuffs in your mouth to shut you up.”

I pasted a smile on my face to greet my mother’s old friend. But when I opened the door, it wasn’t Mrs. Han. It was Larry himself.

I froze, limbs stiff while my heart doubled its beat. Larry fucking Han. Time had been good to him. He’d been one of the shorter boys in Dylan’s class back in school, but now he was close to six feet tall and one hundred and ninety pounds, give or take. I might have followed his hockey career and memorized his stats. But I’d never run into him since he was drafted, even though his parents lived a block away.

“Hey, Lair.” My brother wasn’t tongue-tied. But who knew what he might say?

I squared my shoulders, reminded myself I was a grown-ass woman, and opened my mouth. “Hi, Hanny. Um, Larry.” I was glad my cheeks were already painted red to cover my blush. And damn it, I was meeting Larry Han as a grown-up and I was wearing a Raggedy Ann costume. FML.

“Watcha doing here anyway? Looking for a party?” Why did my brother have to be at home right now?

“Hi, Dylan, Ann.” Larry had a little smirk which shouldn’t look so good on him, but yeah, it did. “I have a problem with my costume, so my mother’s fixing it.”

I elbowed Dylan in the ribs. “Mom said you needed seam binding?” I held out the bundle in my hand. He reached for it, but my fingers weren’t cooperating and I had to force them to let go.

Dylan moved up beside me, avoiding my elbows. “Sure you don’t want to come in? Ann here would love to talk to you.” I flipped around, furious with my stupid brother. I reached for the handcuffs, ready to follow through with my threat to shut him up. Grinning evilly, he snapped one end around my arm. And then locked the other end to Larry’s wrist.

For a moment I just stared. My left wrist was locked to Larry’s right one. Larry gave a tug on his end. My arm jerked in response.

“Dylan, what the fuck are you doing?” he asked, voice flat but tension underneath.

Dylan laughed. “Just a little joke. Kelli had a crush on you back in school and used to peek at us when we played games here, like Seven Minutes in Heaven. Thought I’d finally let her have her chance.”

I dug a finger into his ribs, where he was the most ticklish. “I’m going to kill you, Dylan. Get the fucking cuffs off!”

My brother stepped back, but I couldn’t follow him because I was handcuffed to the man standing in the doorway.

My brother laughed again. “No problem. I’ve got the key right here.” He rolled his eyes. “Some people can’t take a joke.”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” I snarled. I was mortified that Dylan had shared those things about me. I would never be able to look Larry in the face. Assuming I ever saw him again.

Dylan slid his hand in the pocket of Dad’s pants. Why did he have the keys there? What was he hoping to do with the handcuffs? Eeeww… I was so telling Mom.

He pulled out the key and I reached for it. I didn’t trust him not to prolong this and embarrass me further. He jerked his hand back, losing his grip on the key. I tried to grab it, but I couldn’t move while I was tied to Larry, standing behind me.

The key fell to the floor, bounced, and slid, hitting the edge of the heating grate and popping up just enough to drop between the slats and disappear from view.

For long seconds my brother and I stared at the grate.

Larry stepped up beside me. “What just happened?”

Dylan’s mouth was hanging open. The idiot.

“Dylan just dropped the key into the furnace.”

“Not my fault.” He raised his hands and stepped back.

So whose fault did he think it was?

“Have you got another?” Larry’s voice was tense.

“I’ll check.” Dylan headed for the bedroom and I followed, Larry dragging behind me.

My stupid fucking brother.

Chapter 3