Page 11 of Body Check

What I can do is love her, teach her right from wrong, support her unconditionally, and give her a safe space when her dads drive her up the wall.

All the things I wanted as a kid and never had.

It’s not my dad’s fault; he meant well. He was just… limited. Stunted. I see him a few times a year, but we aren’t close. Not like Ty and I are.

Trauma-bonded. That’s what my last therapist called it. Tyler and I are in sync on a deeper level than most siblings. Nobody else knows what we went through. Nobody else can really comprehend it.

We’ve always lived together. He’s only a year older than me, so he took a gap year, and we went to the University of Illinois together. When I was accepted into my DPT program in Austin, he came with me. One afternoon, he stopped by the clinic where I was interning, and he met Brando, a college baseball player who was on my table. Their whirlwind romance was the stuff of storybooks.

They’ve been together four years next month. Married for two and a half. When Brandon signed with Boston, they moved here, and I went to Colorado for a fresh start with my shiny, new Doctor of Physical Therapy degree.

It didn’t last long. As soon as my second full season ended, the Dragons essentially told me not to come back after my maternity leave was over, and I moved to Boston to be with my brothers. No regrets.

Brandon tried to get me a gig with the Bulldogs, but they were all set with their staff. I was planning to start a job search after I recovered from the birth, so when Robby called me with the Grizzlies’ job opening, I jumped at the chance. After interning with the Austin Aces, I knew I wanted to work with athletes, and hockey players in particular.

After Ainsley finishes her bottle, Brandon takes his daughter and burps her, then settles her in the carrier and straps her to his chest. I finish eating my dinner, Tyler keeping me company.

He bumps my foot with his under the table. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Hm?”

“Your first day. It was okay?”

“Up until…” With a sigh, I shake my head.

“What?”

“I don’t want to get into it. What did you do today?”

“Meels, tell me.” Tyler pokes my side. “Did something happen?”

“Turns out the team captain is our neighbor.” I jerk my head toward the brightly lit window facing ours. There’s still no sign of McKittrick. “He thought you were my husband.”

“Gross.” My brother’s face scrunches with disgust. “Marrying a woman. Blegh.”

Brandon laughs. “So, it’s gross that she’s a woman, not that she’s your sister?”

Now, both Tyler and I gag.

“Don’t be nasty,” he chides his husband.

Ainsley squawks as if in agreement, and the three of us laugh.

Ty and I work together to put away the leftovers and clean the kitchen, and then the three of them settle in to watch TV.

“Do you want me to take her?” I offer, silently hoping they say no.

Brandon grins. “You’ve already got her tonight. We’re good for now.”

We take the night shift in turns. The guys have two nights each a week to my one, and on my turn, they usually go out for a date and grown-up alone time. It helps fight off the newborn exhaustion. Everyone should have a three person co-parenting situation like ours.

Eventually, I’ll have to move out and move on with my life. I can’t live in Tyler’s apartment forever. Who knows where Brandon will get traded, and if I’ll hold down this job any better than the last one.

Besides, I signed a legal document giving up all rights to Ainsley. She belongs to Ty and Brandon. I would never try to take their daughter away from her rightful fathers.

It’s only the postpartum hormones making me hyperfixate on everything wrong or scary in my life. The doctors warned me it could take a while for everything to settle, especially living here with the three of them. They’re a family unit, and I’m outside of that.

For now, I have some downtime, so I draw a bubble bath and find a good book on my Kindle. A nice soak in the giant dub is exactly what I need to set myself back to rights. With the help of a few candles and my favorite hot cocoa soap, I feel almost like myself again. My hair is piled in a messy bun on the top of my head, and I applied a clay mask to my face.

I can do this. I can do anything I set my mind to.

When the water runs cool, I drain the tub and get out. Wrapping a towel around my body, I plod back to my room in my robe and bunny slippers. I start to drop the towel when my eyes flicker to the open curtains.

There’s a man in the window, and he’s staring right at me.

McKittrick.

He doesn’t look away, doesn’t concede defeat.

I drop the towel.