Page 30 of Body Check

I blink. She knows my coffee order. Opening my mouth, she cuts me off.

“Shut up,” she snaps.

“Shutting up,” I repeat obediently, and her eyes flash.

In short order, we’re banished from the kitchen, and we retreat to the sofa while Tyler finishes preparing everything.

“He’s kind of a perfectionist,” Brandon says, fondness softening his face. “He doesn’t get to cook nearly as much as he used to.”

“Oh?”

“Ty’s a chef,” Amelia adds.

“He gave up the restaurant gig when we moved to Boston,” his husband adds. “He has a meal delivery business, preparing food for guys on the team.” He cocks his head. “I think some of the Grizzlies are on his service, too, come to think of it.”

“If they aren’t yet, they will be soon,” Ty calls from the kitchen. “I’m just biding my time.”

“Do you work with a dietitian?” I ask.

Brandon nods. “He has someone on staff, but if you have a team nutritionist you receive orders from, he’s happy to work with them. His clientele is almost exclusively athletes.”

“That’s really neat. I hate cooking, and to be honest, it’s getting more and more difficult to stay on the diet plan,” I admit. Harper did most of my meal preparation. She was a much better cook than me.

“Well, if you want to be added to the roster, take Ty’s card,” Brandon says. “He’ll whip something up for you.”

“You’re my best salesman,” the chef says from the other room. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” the baseball player sings back.

There’s a knock at the door, and Amelia stands to greet the guests. To my surprise, it’s Larsson and his fiancée, Vanessa.

“Thank you for inviting us,” the Swede says in his crisp accent. His hand clenches Vanessa’s tightly, his face strained. He’s not one for socializing. It’s a marker of how much he loves her that he’s able to set aside his personal discomfort for her benefit.

“I’m so glad you made it.” Amelia ushers them in. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Larsson shakes his head, and then catches sight of me in the room. His eyes widen.

“Come in, come in.” She goes to close the door when something makes her pause.

But it’s only Andrews, Joaquin, and Patrice, the other staffers she hangs out with. Now I definitely feel like the odd man out.

“I brought booze,” Andrews says, holding up a bottle of champagne and another of vodka.

“Now the party’s started,” Brandon says, with a grin. “Bloody Marys?”

“Fuck, yes.” He cocks his head when he clocks me in the room. “Hey, McKittrick. You’re joining us for brunch?”

“Yeah. That okay?”

“We’ll kick you out when we’re done with you,” Tyler says with a laugh from the kitchen. He brings a platter laden with bagels to the table. “Come, let’s eat.”