Chasing Castles (Finding Focus #2) Read Free Page A

down his neck all season. So instead, he’ll bide his time and wait for Deke to graduate in the spring. Then he’ll try out for varsity in the fall.
    I’ve always loved that about Micah. He never lets his last name go to his head, and he doesn’t care what people think he should or shouldn’t do.
    “Nope, doesn’t suck at all. I get to play on Thursday nights and leave my Fridays open for the babes,” Micah replies, earning him a high-five from Tucker.
    Idiots.
    Did I forget to mention that Micah is well on his way to being a man-whore like my brother?
    In that sense, Micah is nothing like Deacon.
    Deacon is a lot more subtle in his endeavors. He’s dated, but he’s never been one to be attached to a different girl’s hips or lips every other week. Or every other day, as in Tucker’s case. Even though girls like Marcy are always making it sound like he’s playing the field, the only field Deacon plays is the football field.
    Tucker pulls into the grassy field that’s already filling up with vehicles as everyone filters in from the game. After he finds a spot, he parks his truck, and we all head inside.
    Once we’re in the house, Stacey and I take a few minutes to look around for familiar faces while the boys go straight to the back porch, where I’m sure the keg resides. No one here is legally old enough to drink, but that doesn’t stop it from happening after every home football game. Living out in the country has many advantages, and one of them is that just about everyone has huge yards that people can pass out in for a while before driving themselves home in the morning. All the parents here grew up together and did the same things their kids do. So, everyone pretty much turns a blind eye. Don’t ask, don’t tell.
    We’ve been exchanging small talk with various people for over an hour when I reach my limit.
    “This is boring,” I whisper to Stacey. “I’m gonna walk around for a while.”
    Walking into the kitchen, I grab a red cup that everyone is filling up with booze and get some water out of the tap before stepping out on the back porch. The first voice I hear is Tucker’s, of course, and I inwardly cringe.
    “Baby, I can’t play football and risk hurting these magical fingers.” He holds up both hands and wiggles his fingers. “I’m a musician. I gotta keep these safe and sound for playing my guitar.”
    Amanda, the girl he’s talking to, flirts back. “I bet that’s not all you need your fingers for.”
    “You would be correct, my dear,” Tucker murmurs before kissing her cheek.
    I’m about to say something, but before I can get a word out, Deacon pipes up.
    “Don’t be fooled, honey. Tucker only needs his fingers for one thing and, because his thing is so small, he only needs to use two of them to get the job done.” Deacon slaps my brother on his back while laughing at his own joke, and even though he’s referring to the size of my brother’s penis, I can’t help but chuckle.
    Deacon walks past Tucker and Amanda into the kitchen, giving me a playful shoulder check on his way by.
    “Laugh it up, Landry,” Tucker calls after him. “You’re just jealous I get more play off the field than you do.”
    It has always been like this with Tucker and Deacon. They’ve been the best of friends since before kindergarten, and they show their love for one another through teasing and put-downs. The only difference now is that their jokes are much dirtier.
    I find a seat on one of the patio couches and, to my surprise, Deacon walks back out and sits down next to me.
    “You’re not drinking the Jungle Juice, are you?” He points to the cup in my hand.
    “No, just water. What about you? Looks like you’ve been nursing that beer for a while. There’s not a drop of condensation left on the bottle. You need a nipple for it?”
    I don’t even realize what I’m saying until I hear the words leave my mouth, and then I just want to die of embarrassment. I have no problem teasing like