Page 27 of Body Check

twelve

. . .

Jason

The bagel shop is crowded, but given that it’s a Sunday morning, I wouldn’t expect anything less. There’s a reason so many people come here; the bagels are that amazing.

I’m feeling good after our win last night—and my private show after. My knee doesn’t even hurt. I haven’t felt this good in a long time, at least since Harper served me with the divorce papers. I’m finally feeling like myself again.

Shuffling into line, I notice the dark-haired beauty in front of me, and my dick instantly reacts. I adjust my stance and clear my throat, but it does nothing to quench the heat simmering just beneath my skin.

I want her. I can’t have her, and I fucking want her anyway.

The line shuffles forward, and we all take a step.

Amelia is wearing jeans and a long-sleeved top, her hair pulled back from her face with a pink silk scrunchie. I wonder if it’s the same one she wore that night we slept together.

Ahem. Shared a bed. Her bed.

I still don’t know how that happened. She didn’t say anything the next day, so I didn’t either. I must have been pretty messed up for her to take me back to her room.

But nothing happened. Deep in my heart, I know nothing inappropriate happened between us. Even if I wanted it to, I was in no shape to act on my feelings. Fuck, I probably couldn’t have even gotten it up with the amount of whiskey I had.

She steps up to the counter, placing an order for two dozen bagels, and then moves off to the side while they pack it up.

The clerk waves me forward, and I order my usual pumpernickel, tomato, and lox sandwich. It’s my Sunday morning treat. Also, we have the day off—I can deviate from the diet plan just a smidge.

As I move to the counter to pay, I notice Amelia do a double take from the corner of my eye. I tap my card and join her at the side of the counter, waiting for my order.

“Good morning,” I say, slipping my wallet back into my pocket.

“Morning.”

Do I bring up last night’s show?

“Good game last night,” she finally says. “Congrats on the goal.”

“Thanks.” Pride puffs up my chest. It was a dirty goal, but they don’t all have to be pretty as long as they’re effective.

And it was. It brought the tally to three and one, and we took home the win.

“So, your brothers…”

Her shoulders tense. “Yeah? What about them?”

“I didn’t realize he was a ball player.”

“Yep.” Her voice is tight. “He’s okay.”

I choke out a laugh. “He was the league MVP twice in three years. He’s won four Golden Glove awards. And he’s not even thirty yet!”

“Eh.” She shrugs.

Gaping, I turn to face her, and notice the laughter dancing in her eyes.

“For real, I’m incredibly proud of him,” Amelia says. “He worked his ass off to get to where he is. He’s one of my heroes.”

“MacGregor’s, too.” The dude is obsessed with baseball.