Page 29 of Body Check

“Well, it’s so far away.” I think there’s a hint of a smile, if I squint.

“Better than sitting in my place and watching you guys have a party without me,” I point out.

She lets out a little giggle, the sound bringing a smile to my face.

“Come on. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

We exit on her floor, and she leads me down the hallway to her front door. There’s a mat out front that reads “Welcome-ish: Depends on who you are and how long you’re staying.”

Instantly, I know this isn’t her decoration, but she wholeheartedly agrees with it. If I had to wager a guess, it was Tyler’s find, but Brandon’s the one who displayed it out in the hall rather than inside the front door.

“Honey, I’m home,” Amelia calls as she opens the front door. “Please be wearing clothes.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Brandon says, striding down the hallway to meet us. His hair is rumpled, his shirt buttons off-skew. “We finished up ten minutes ago.”

She makes a face. “I already have to hear you having sex every night. You don’t need to give me a play-by-play, too.”

He slings an arm over her shoulder. “Well, sweetie, when two people love each other very much⁠—”

She elbows him in the gut, and he coughs.

“I brought McKittrick,” she says, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. “Come on, you can set the bagels in the kitchen.”

Tyler is wearing a black apron over a collared shirt, slicing tomatoes. “You took forever,” he complains.

“The shop was busy. Next time, you can go get them yourself,” she snaps.

“Nah. Much rather send you.” He smirks. “She roped you into helping?”

“Something like that,” I mutter. “Good to see you again.”

“I invited him to stay,” she adds.

“Glad to have you.” Brandon claps me on the back, and then takes one bag from my arms. “The more, the merrier.”

“Anything I can do to help?” I offer.

“Nah. Just chill for a bit. Want a coffee? Or a beer?”

“Coffee would be great.” I drop the other bag on the counter.

Amelia bustles through the small kitchen to the coffeemaker, pulling down a mug from the cupboard and popping a pod into the machine.

“So, you do this often? Bagel brunch?”

“In the off-season, as much as we can,” Brandon says. “Gotta enjoy the downtime while it lasts.”

“I feel that.” Although baseball gets more time off than hockey does, it always feels like the weeks slip by.

Tyler arranges the tomatoes on a platter, layering it with the red onion and cucumber already sliced. It’s only then that I look over at the table. It’s set for ten.

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not,” Amelia says, bringing me a hot pink mug. The side says “Bad Bitch.”

If she thinks she’s embarrassing me by giving me this one, she isn’t. I’m definitely a Bad Bitch.

“I added cream, no sugar,” she adds.