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Nearby, Corbin—the Golden State Foxes’ forward and part-time shit stirrer—is on the leg press. His loud laugh echoes across our corner of the gym. “This is the woman you were brooding about when we played golf back in June?”

Fuuuck. The man has a steel-trap memory. I did say something that morning, but nothing specific. Why does this guy remember everything I want to forget?

“I wasn’t brooding,” I mutter. “I just mentioned I ran into someone at the hotel.”

“That’s true,” Corbin says, grinning like he’s about to bury me. “You also said nothing happened with her.”

“Yes,” I grit out, pulling the bar down harder .

“And that it was a shame nothing happened,” he adds, as Rowan grabs a pair of heavy dumbbells.

“Yes,” I say, sharper this time.

“You seem awfully… taciturn ,” Rowan cuts in. The guy loves his word-a-day app.

Corbin leans forward on the leg press, his grin widening. “Do you want to go back in time and repeat the day?”

“Just the part where I whipped your ass at golf,” I shoot back.

Corbin laughs, not missing a beat or a rep. “Highly satisfying, huh? We’ll circle back to that later. For now, I want to hear more about this ‘foot-in-mouth’ move you made by inviting the ‘nothing happened’ woman to be your nanny.”

These guys.

“My mom did it,” I snap, but it only makes them laugh harder.

“When in doubt, blame your mom.” Rowan smirks as he alternates arms with his hammer curls. “You can tell us,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper. “You auditioning her as wife material?”

“Shut up. It’s fine,” I growl as I lower the bar again. My traps are going to be sick at this rate.

Corbin pauses mid leg press. “Someone’s a little sensitive.”

Yeah, because it’s complicated, especially with Parker’s worry, and the way he’s clearly missing Agatha.

The kid’s life has been topsy-turvy the last couple years with the divorce, then the move.

I have primary custody of the kids while Elle’s busy with med school.

The arrangement is more than fine by me.

I want to be there for them every damn day I can, and Elle deserves the chance to go back to school.

But I also have this season to think about and my own goddamn lust to keep in check.

So I ignore both my friends as I let go of the bar and cross over to the rack, grabbing a heavier set of dumbbells. Heavier than Rowan’s. Starting a set of curls, I glance at my teammate. “And you still can’t lift more than me.”

That’ll shut him up. Rowan is competitive as hell.

“One,” he says, ignoring the bait, “we both know I can. Two, I know what you’re trying to do.” He tips his chin toward Corbin. “Don’t you, Corb?”

“Sure do.” Corbin moves to a bench press. The low thump of the gym’s playlist mixes with the clinking of weights, but it does nothing to drown out Corbin’s laugh.

“And?” I challenge.

“And it’s hilarious how you think we’re going to let this go,” he says as he adjusts the weights.

I groan. These assholes.

Corbin pauses, his eyes lighting up. “Does this mean we’ll be seeing more of you in Cozy Valley? Our bocce ball and cornhole nights are good therapy?”

“I’m going to be fine.” I am counting the days until our next night at The Gameyard. We get together at the Cozy Valley bar for dad time while the kids play Skee-Ball and Whac-A-Mole in the activity room. I need those nights badly. They…reset me. Not like I’d tell that to these fuckers.

“Fine?” Corbin echoes. “You’re going to be fine?”

“Yes,” I say, hoping it’s true.

Corbin arches a brow and gives Rowan a look that says I am full of shit. “You want to place a bet on this?”

The idea piques Rowan’s interest. “Hell yeah, I do. What’s the wager?”

“How long he holds out,” Corbin says with a sly grin.

I set down a weight to raise a hand. “Stop,” I say completely serious this time. “We are not betting on a woman.”

“Dude, of course we’re not,” Rowan says, mock-offended. “I’m not that kind of guy. ”

“I might be single, but I’m not an asshole,” Corbin says, then adds with a glint in his evil eyes. “But I do bet on my idiot friends when they do highly mockable shit.”

“Then why are you asking how long I’ll hold out?” I ask, incredulous.

Corbin shrugs, feigning innocence. “I didn’t mean how long before you and Sabrina fall into bed together. Obviously, that’ll happen on the eve of never, because she has taste.”

I flip him the bird before I pick up the weight again. “With friends like you…”

“You’re lucky to have us,” Rowan says with a smirk.

“Then what the hell are you talking about?” I ask as I move to shoulder presses.

“How long before you give in? You know…” Corbin says, moving his fist in an obscene gesture, already mocking my defeat.

I stare him down. “Are you really this immature?”

“Of course,” he says without hesitation.

Rowan tips his chin toward me, deadpan. “Just accept defeat gracefully and start prepping excuses. It’ll save you embarrassment later.”

“It’s a miracle you two are allowed to raise children,” I say, with a heavy sigh to rival Parker’s. “The maturity level in this gym is astounding.”

“Hey,” Corbin protests as he grabs a towel. “I’m not afraid to admit I have a healthy relationship with my hand. Maybe you should consider the same.”

“I came here to work out,” I growl. “Instead, you worked out my patience.”

“You’re welcome,” Rowan says. “Also, good fucking luck living with temptation.”

“One week,” Corbin predicts as he lies down on the bench and positions himself under the bar .

Rowan shakes his head. “Two days. No way he lasts longer.”

I roll my eyes. “How would you even prove such a thing?”

Corbin’s smirk sharpens as he curls his palms around the weight. “Don’t need proof. You’d consider it rude to lie to us. You’re too competitive.”

He asks Rowan to spot him. I curse under my breath, dropping to the mat for crunches.

Tension ripples through my abs as I work them, trying to shake off the taunts.

The crunches aren’t helping. They just give me more time to think.

About Parker and his new worries. About Luna and the way she loves to skate.

About Sabrina, and how upbeat and fun and gorgeous she is.

Will I really be fine? Living under the same roof as Sabrina? It’s not just temptation—it’s her smile, her bright attitude, her everything. That’s the real challenge.

I’ll have to face it soon. After this workout, she’ll be at my house, moving into my garden apartment.

Send help , I want to say. But never out loud, of course.

Later, we’re leaving the gym and Ford strides in, floppy hair in his eyes, focus on his face before he pops out his earbuds. “Did I miss anything good?” the forward asks.

“We’re betting on how long this guy lasts,” Corbin says, clapping my shoulder.

“Dude. Seriously. Shut it,” I say.

“Oops. Guess he doesn’t want the whole team to know he has a thing for the nanny.”

Ford grins. “Too late for that. It was one hundred percent apparent the first night he met her.”

I am so fucked.