Page 9 of The Shake Off

It only meant one thing.

“Home run, baby!” Tanner bounced onto the couch cushions, right behind where Parker was sitting and rolling his eyes. “Suck it.”

“Hey,” I nodded, dropping my bag on the floor and went to the kitchen in search of more food. Payton’s granola hadn’t cut it. “Losing again?”

“Not yet,” Parker replied.

I opened the fridge and peered in. For athletes in their early twenties, it was impressively well stocked. We liked to compartmentalize according to foodstuff: rows of sports drinks and water on the top shelf; eggs and protein on the next one down, followed by vegetables and more vegetables. Lux was in charge of groceries and the delivery arrived last night, but it wasn’t helping me decide what to eat.

I grabbed a Gatorade and closed the door. “Who’ve you got pitching?”

“You,” Parker replied and grinned at me. “Wanna play?”

“Is this the new season game yet?”

He shook his head. “No, last season.”

“Then no.” I twisted the top off the bottle and swigged. “I refuse to partake in that game if they can’t get the finer details correct.”

“Dude, you can’t even tell!” called Tanner, who’d resumed his position on the couch next to Parker, readying himself to send his player around the bases.

Even though he was always trying to fuck with me, I placed the bottle down on the counter and fixed him with the same look I always did whenever this subject came up.

“I can tell, Tan. I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes and went back to the game.

“Anyway…” My stomach grumbled again and I peered around the kitchen; it was usually way more untidy if breakfast had been served, so hopefully I’d made it back in time. “Did Lux make breakfast yet?”

Parker shook his head. “Nope. He was otherwise occupied.”

On cue, the great chef himself returned, arms wide open. “Calm down, ladies, I’m here. Now, who wants food?”

“Fuck, yes. I’m starved,” replied Tanner, throwing down his controller.

“Me too.” I slid onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar as Lux tied an apron around himself – this one covered in hearts, rainbows, and unicorns.

He claimed it was his favorite.

As self-designated house chef, the boys and I had gifted it to him when we moved into our apartment at the end of last season, and every day we had breakfast together, prepared by Lux wearing that, or one of the other dozen aprons we’d bought him since. Tanner had even had one made with his naked body and a strategically placed rolling pin.

We lived on the fifty-second floor of a high rise in Midtown, right by Hudson Yards, in an apartment Tanner had named Casa Greyskull. While it might not have been the penthouse, we were high enough up the building that we had the floor to ourselves, with the elevator opening directly into our apartment. Only those with an access code could stop the elevator on our floor, something which came in handy when uninvited girls tried to slip past the concierge.

“Who was your friend?” I asked as he removed the carton of eggs from the fridge.

“Kitten with a K.”

“A K?”

“That’s what she said.”

“How else do you spell Kitten?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, pushing the eggs across the counter to me, along with a whisk and a bowl. “Mix these, will you?”

I cracked the eggs and got to work. I didn’t bother asking if he was going to see her again, because we were all of the opinion that we would enjoy our lives while we were young enough to enjoy them, and none of us were ready to settle down.

Plus, this apartment would be wasted on a relationship.

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