Page 73 of Bae

“My sister, the unexpected bruiser.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” I groaned into the pillow.

There was another knock at the door.

“What the fuck is this? Grand Central Station?” Romeo muttered and went to the door.

“You watch your mouth when you’re holding my kid,” Braeden told him.

“He hasn’t had his coffee yet.” He really shouldn’t teach her such bad words, but I would defend him anyways.

Braeden glanced at me and winked. I sat up once more and shoved my fist under my glasses and rubbed at the sleep still clinging there.

“Heard there was coffee up in here!” Drew announced, waltzing into the room.

Surprised, I glanced around B. “Drew! Trent!”

“Hey, sis.” Trent smiled.

“Everyone’s here!”

“It’s pancake Sunday. Monday edition,” B said.

“It’s a family tradition.” Trent nodded.

“You guys drove all the way here to eat pancakes with us?” I said, surprised. I glanced at Romeo. “Did you call them?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“We saw the game.” Drew guffawed. “Thought you might need someone to bail you outta jail.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake.

“It was a rough night. Figured you could use some family time,” Braeden said low, tugging on my hair.

My eyes misted up. I held out my arms to him for a hug.

He wrapped me up, squeezing me tight. Before pulling back, he whispered in my ear, “I love ya, sis, but you gotta put on some clothes. This just feels wrong.”

I gasped and laughed at the same time.

I was wearing a T-shirt, but that was about all. The blankets did cover me from the waist down; it wasn’t as if I were exposed.

“You better get your girl, Rome. One slight move and all her tidbits could be exposed.”

Romeo grabbed B by the back of his neck and pulled him away. “Dude, get the hell away from my wife.”

I waved at Nova and shoved the covers back.

“Clothes,” Romeo said, planting himself in front of me like a shield.

I grabbed my bag and darted into the bathroom. Outside, I could hear everyone talking, the sound of plates clattering, and the scent of maple syrup and bacon wafted through the air.

I smiled as I pulled on a pair of black leggings, a loose button-up chambray shirt, and added a chunky knit cream-colored cardigan (that was too big, my favorite) over top.

The blown-out, sleek strands of my hair were long gone. In their place was my usual wild style. Well, it was nice while it lasted.

I’m sure by now you know what I’m going to say.

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