Page 6

TREV

Cam was here. Yesterday, we’d moved his things into the guest suite. This morning, we’d made a grocery store run to stock the kitchen with things he liked.

Now came one of the parts I had not been looking forward to—introducing him to my ex-husband.

The ideal setting would be someplace neutral, like a coffee shop or a restaurant. Bryan and I could usually be trusted to be cordial in public, even when tensions were running hot.

But this was an unusual situation. Bryan hadn’t been thrilled about my solution to his ultimatum, and I had a feeling this introduction could go off the rails without much provocation.

So, out in public wasn’t going to work. In private, we had two options—the place he and I had shared, or the place he was currently sharing with my teammate. My teammate, who I had to play alongside at training camp in just a few days.

Though I rarely put my foot down about much, I made an exception this time. Especially since he’d been the one to make the ultimatum, we were handling introductions on my terms… and on my turf.

Which was why, at around three in the afternoon, my ex-husband’s gleaming black Mercedes-Maybach S pulled up in front of my house. I stepped outside, keeping my expression as neutral as possible, and waited.

He got out, and my stomach knotted the same way it always did when I saw him.

It was a mix of resentment, regret, and hurt.

From the moment I’d realized we were speeding down a one-way street to divorce, my emotions had been a clash of good and bad.

I couldn’t be in the same space as him and not get a twinge of what the fuck did I ever see in you?

right alongside the pang of what happened to us?

I tamped them down, same as I always did, and watched him come around the car.

He, on the other hand, was wearing his emotions on his sleeve.

Or rather, his one emotion—irritation.

Halting an arm’s length away, he glared at me. “Are you really serious about this? About hiring him to look after our kids?”

“Yes.” I glared right back at him. “I trust him. And you didn’t exactly give me a ton of time to find someone who?—”

“You could’ve found someone besides him,” Bryan hissed. “When I said to find someone to watch the kids, I didn’t mean your old piece of ass.”

I gritted my teeth. “That’s ancient history. We were kids . And might I remind you that our boys spend half the time living with your current piece of ass, so…” I shrugged flippantly.

Bryan rolled his eyes.

“And I’m not dating Cam,” I went on. “That was high school, for God’s sake.”

Another eyeroll, this one accompanied by a caustic laugh. “Yeah, but I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a rematch, would you?”

For a second, panic flared in my chest. What the hell? Had I said something when we’d talked last night that gave away that I was suddenly reattracted to Cam?

Bryan must’ve seen the questions in my eyes, because he crossed his arms and scoffed.

“Oh, please. The whole time we were married, all someone had to do was mention his name, and you’d either get all mopey or starry-eyed.

” He scoffed. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t jump his bones again the second you had the chance. ”

I drew back, startled by his anger but also by how right he was.

I didn’t let it show, though, and coolly said, “Even if that were true, that isn’t why he’s here.

He’s here because you put me between a rock and a hard place, and I just got incredibly lucky that Cam was also in a bad spot.

” I showed my palms. “Go back to our old arrangement, and I won’t have any reason to keep him around. Your call.”

He held my gaze. I held his. My heart thumped against my ribs as my own dare hung in the silence between us. Fuck, what if he took me up on it? What was I supposed to tell Cam then? “So hey, my ex said he’d work with me after all. Here’s some gas money to head back to Seattle.”

Shit. Should’ve kept my damn mouth shut.

“I’m only responding to your ultimatum,” I said evenly. “And if you want to reject Cam and take me to court, you’re going to have to explain to the judge why my high school ex is a problem, but your boyfriend isn’t.”

His jaw worked, and I was admittedly relieved.

I had a feeling he knew I’d cornered him, and he really didn’t have much choice.

Unless he could come up with some massive dealbreaker of a reason to say Cam wasn’t qualified or safe to watch our kids, he was just going to have to suck it up and live with it.

Finally, he pushed out a sharp breath. “Well, let’s get this over with. I at least want to meet the guy before he’s alone with the kids.”

I was irritated, but I’d still call that a victory. So, without a word, I gestured for him to follow me inside.

Cam was in the living room, sitting on the couch and looking at something on his phone. When we walked in, he looked up, and his nerves were plain to see. I offered a smile that I hoped registered as, Don’t sweat it. We’ve got this .

It didn’t seem to help.

“Cam, this is my ex-husband, Bryan. Bryan, Cam.”

Cam rose, and they regarded each other uneasily as they shook hands over the coffee table.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Bryan said, his tone polite but taut.

“Have you?” Cam glanced at me and managed a nervous laugh. “All good things, I hope?”

Expression sour, Bryan muttered, “He’s never said a bad word about you.”

Cam stiffened, looking at me as if to ask how he was supposed to respond to that. I wasn’t even sure, if I was honest, because I was struggling to keep my temper in check.

Really, Bryan? You want to have this conversation right in front of him?

Some arguments from the past scraped across my memories.

“You two dated in high school. Why do you care so much about him?”

“Yeah, we dated, but he was also my best friend.”

“Right. ‘Best friend.’ Because that” —Bryan had gestured sharply at my face —“is how people look when they talk about their best friend.”

In the present, keeping my voice and face as pleasant as I could—neutral, anyway—I gestured at the couch and recliners. “How about we all sit? Anyone need a drink?”

“Not one I can have before driving home,” Bryan gritted out.

Cam just shook his head.

We took our seats. Cam was on one end of the couch. I was on the other, a whole cushion between us. Bryan sat stiffly in one of the recliners, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“I can relate,” I didn’t say out loud. “So how about we just be civil and get this over with?”

I cleared my throat, but my ex-husband spoke first.

“So, Cam, what were you doing before?” Bryan sounded bored. “Trev never mentioned you working as a nanny.”

Cam fidgeted. “I’m a personal trainer.”

“Yeah?” My ex’s eyes flicked toward me. “Not exactly a childcare job, is it?”

“Bryan,” I growled.

“What?” He put up his hands. “It’s a reasonable question!”

“I’ve never done full-time childcare,” Cam said. “But I worked with kids at the gym sometimes, and I’ve done plenty of babysitting since I was a teenager.”

“That’s not the same as?—”

“They’re not newborns,” I said. “They don’t need someone who has a Ph.D. in nannying.” I paused. “And it wasn’t like you or I had much experience when we brought them home.”

Bryan scowled and rolled his eyes.

“Is it just me?” he’d asked, exhausted and threadbare on the third or fourth day at home with the twins. “Or are we in way over our heads?”

“I’m pretty sure we are.” I’d scrubbed my hand over my face and sighed. “But our parents figured it out. We will too.”

And we had. Little by little, sleepless night after sleepless night, we’d figured it out. Now, despite plenty of mistakes along the way, not to mention all the upheaval from our divorce, the boys were thriving.

Cam shifted with obvious discomfort, which made anger surge in my chest. It reminded me of that sleep-deprived, frustrated feeling like I was about to snap at the slightest provocation. I hated it, and I couldn’t wait for this conversation to be over .

“Look,” I said to Bryan, “Cam is and always has been responsible. Being a personal trainer is exactly the kind of career I’d expect for him because it requires someone to be conscientious, detail-oriented, and focused on an individual’s specific needs.

” I inclined my head. “All the things you raved about with your last trainer?” I gestured at Cam.

Bryan pressed his lips into a thin line.

“And at the end of the day,” I went on, “I know Cam. Have for most of my life. I can hire a nanny with a stack of references, but I won’t know them. Not like I know Cam.”

My ex huffed an ugly laugh. “Well, I should hope you don’t know a new nanny like you know him.”

The last remaining tether on my temper almost snapped. Almost . Especially as I watched the confusion, realization, and embarrassment flicker across Cam’s face.

Heat rushed into my own face as I growled, “Are you done, Bryan? Can we do this like civil adults, or what?”

He glared right back at me. “I mean, how civil do you want me to be about you hiring your ex to watch our kids?”

“That was high school,” I ground out. “Cam and I were friends a lot longer than we were a couple. And, again, it was high school .” I narrowed my eyes. “Or do we need to talk about the man you allegedly didn’t start screwing until after we separated? Because if he’s okay around the kids, then?—”

“Tim’s job isn’t to watch the kids,” Bryan threw back. “He’s my partner. You brought Cam here specifically to watch our boys, so I think I’m well within my rights to?—”

“You’re well within your rights to ask him about his experience with kids. Not disrespect him and act like something from when we were teenagers is relevant here.”

I hated how utterly uncomfortable Cam looked as I exchanged barbs with my ex-husband. I fucking hated everything about this conversation.

And I could tell from Bryan’s eyes that this would absolutely escalate into the kind of screaming match that had been the soundtrack of our last year as a married couple.

Not today.