Brett
The house felt different the second the girls left.
One minute, the front hallway was crowded with perfume, laughter, purses, and Anthony ordering everyone to wait because Sophia’s lipstick needed “one final adjustment.” The next, the door closed behind them, and the sudden quiet settled over the place so quickly that even Big John stopped talking for a second.
Anthony had been the last one out, naturally. He stood in the doorway with one hand braced against the frame, looking back at the rest of us like he was leaving a group of badly behaved children instead of grown men.
“No football beefcakes following us,” he warned, pointing first at Liam, Mikey, Eric, and Big John. Then he swung his finger toward Marco, Ollie, and me. “And no hockey studs accidentally showing up at the sam
