Twelve

JENSEN

Rowan blinked at me. A sexy slow blink, and my heart started to pound.

When she sank her teeth into her lower lip, I experienced that incredible rush of anticipation.

Finally.

I would finally get to kiss her.

She’d tilt her head and it’d be on.

It’d be one of those slo-mo¸ soft-focus, romantic movie kisses. Lips sliding together. Parting only to suck in a fast breath before the intense I-wanna-fuck-you sex kisses overwhelmed us both.

Then Rowan reached out . . . and playfully patted me on the cheek. “Dude. If you’re that hungry I could fix you something to eat.”

What?

She wasn’t serious . . . was she?

My gaze narrowed on her lips. Her mouth moved. But I couldn’t hear anything over the rat-a-tat-tat-tat sound of machine gun fire as she thoroughly shot me down.

Thoroughly.

Man. I needed a traffic cop to sort out the number of mixed signals this woman was sending me.

So I did what any self-respecting guy with a Titanic-sized hole in his ego would do . . . I said fuck it and kissed her anyway.

Not the tasteful, soft-porn type of kiss I’d envisioned. Not even the teeth-clacking soul kiss I craved. I gave her a hard, swift kiss, right on her surprised mouth, followed by a light head-butt, because apparently I was still a twelve-year-old boy and that was how I let her know I liked her even after she’d torpedoed my ego.

“You are tired if you thought I was talking about food,” I said offhandedly as I stood.

“Jensen . . .”

“It’s late. I just wanted to share the good news about camp. Astrid is creating registration documents, release forms, medical forms and all that necessary stuff that’s out of my wheelhouse. So it’ll probably be Monday before I can get that to you.”

“Jensen.”

“She mentioned that she’d like to have a phone conference with you early next week to discuss the best way to get in contact with the other parents whose kids were displaced. Oh, and during the cost analysis, we determined we need to add another ten kids to the camp for a better balance in the classroom. So if you have other kids in mind, talk to Astrid about adding them to the list.”

“Jensen.”

“We’re opening up the building next week and I’ll be there as much as my training schedule allows, getting it ready for opening day so you probably won’t see me much—”

“Hey, dickhead. Stop babbling.”

I turned around and faced her. “That’s twice with the name-calling tonight, Coach.”

“You brought it on yourself by talking over me.”

“By all means. You’ve got the floor.”

“Thank you. I . . .” She inhaled and slowly let it out. “I’m a shitty friend too, all right?”

Do not say anything even remotely smart-ass-y, Lund.

“This is new to me. It wasn’t supposed to happen—”

“But it did. And ignoring it won’t make it go away.”

“As if I ever had a chance of ignoring you,” she retorted.

My body language said, “Is that a bad thing?” even when I remained quiet.

“And I don’t know what to do with it, okay?”

“I could give you a hint.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

She sighed. “Fine. What is your hint?”

“The next time I want to kiss you? Let me.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

I laughed.

“Stop joking around.” She blinked at me. “You are joking, right?”

I didn’t answer. Let her come to her own conclusions. Or . . . let her stew. I smiled and said, “Good night, Rowan.”

•   •   •

It’d been a long week.

Things weren’t completely ready, but I’d called a staff meeting for Friday morning anyway.

A staff meeting. Me. Mr. Tune-Out during any meeting longer than five minutes where I wasn’t watching guys get pummeled.

I had a feeling karma was about to bite me in the ass.

Every other camp-type situation I’d been involved in had been with other football players. So the work was split up between at least half a dozen of us. The camps never lasted long: three hours at the most. Then we’d have an autograph session.

This summer camp sent me into unknown territory and I’d dragged poor Astrid along for the ride. She’d been great this past week, but I needed her to be on top of everything the next three months because I’d be hit-and-miss. Realizing I preferred being a worker bee to being the big boss when it came to my LCCO responsibilities meant I had no ego about putting Astrid on the payroll and upping her responsibilities. But the truth was, my main responsibility was to train and prepare for football season.

I rolled out of bed and headed to the fitness center in the apartment complex. I wouldn’t have time for a full workout before I met with the staff, but I could at least get cardio out of the way.

After four hard miles on the treadmill, I showered. I threw on some clean clothes and heated up one of my prepared breakfasts that didn’t suck—steel-cut oats with almonds, blueberries and honey. I filled out the form online for the following week’s meals as I ate and hit send when I finished.

My family gave me crap for employing a personal chef. Before Brady had met Lennox, he ate whatever meals his secretary brought him—usually at his desk. Walker was marginally better cooking for himself. But his company provided lunch for their employees, so I failed to see how having healthy meals delivered to my door was any different.

Besides, because I was a professional athlete my caloric intake needs fluctuated. Hiring an expert to keep my protein-to-carb ratio balanced for optimum performance was no different than hiring any other professional. I could probably roof a house myself, but why would I want to when I could hire a roofer?

I didn’t understand why my mom took it so personally that Chef J prepared my meals when she’d had a full-time cook and several other domestic workers when I was growing up.

She’s concerned because she wants a woman in your life to share meal prep responsibilities, not a random guy in a restaurant across town.

But even if I was in a serious relationship? I wouldn’t expect my partner to adhere to the same diet I did during the season or learn how to prepare it.

“Dude. If you’re that hungry I could fix you something to eat.”

Rowan. I still couldn’t believe she’d said that to me when I’d wanted to kiss her.

I hadn’t seen her much this week. Once in the elevator as I returned home and she was leaving to run Calder someplace. Once in the hallway between our apartments. Calder had started a long story about . . . I honestly couldn’t remember. I’d spent the entire time watching Rowan. Wondering if I’d taken spinning my wheels to a whole new level. Wondering why I’d ditch my three nonnegotiable rules in a hot minute if she gave me a sign she wanted more than this bogus attempt at being friends.

But the stubborn woman hadn’t made the effort. I’d wait her out. I could be damn stubborn too.

At the site of Camp Step-Up, a former elementary school, I parked my Land Cruiser next to an older-model Saturn.

Astrid climbed out of it as I walked past. She fell into step with me, holding the biggest insulated coffee mug I’d ever seen. “Morning,” she said brightly. “I’m glad you’re here early.”

“Better early than late.”

“I’ve already been here for forty-five minutes,” she confessed.

“Why didn’t you go in?”

“We haven’t discussed specifics on arrival times and if I’m allowed to open the building early. Or if I fall behind on my work”—she made a sarcastic little snort, as if that’d ever happen—“and I have to stay late, if you’re all right with me locking down the building.”

“Since you have the code I’d think it’d be a given that you can come and go as you please.”

She stopped, forcing me to stop. “This is what I’m talking about. I don’t assume anything. We have to make these types of decisions as a team. I’d think it was a given that you’d know all about teamwork.”

“You’re right. We need to be on the same page of the playbook.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You couldn’t have said ‘the ball is in your court’ or anything that doesn’t use the clichéd word playbook?”

“Hey, it’s no joke that a playbook is the bible in my world. And get used to the sports analogies, because that’s how I roll. Since we’re both early we’ll have time to go over whatever list you’ve got—I’m assuming there’s more than one.” I pointed to her enormous coffee cup. “You have enough to share?”

“Nope.”

“Stingy with the caffeine. I’ll remember that. Let’s see if you know how to work the new security system.”

Astrid struggled to juggle her coffee as she punched in the code, but she got it right on the first try.

We wandered into the area that’d served as the office and dumped our stuff. LCCO had done few updates, but the entire facility would be cleaned next week.

This was one of the smallest elementary schools I’d ever been in. No wonder the school district had sold this property. The building had sat empty for the past fifteen years prior to LCCO purchasing the property three years ago. They’d used it for storage and as a place to organize items for various charity events. After talking with Aunt Priscilla, I’d learned that LCCO remained unsure on future plans for the space. Renovating was economically unfeasible—according to Brady, the Lund Industries CFO, as well as Walker, the Lund family construction expert.

The gymnasium had a stage that stretched along the back wall. In the corner was a line of portable lunch tables. In the opposite corner a door led to a small kitchen.

“Was this a working kitchen when this school was in use?”

“It’s hard to believe they had enough room in here to prepare meals for over a hundred kids every day.” I opened the first big refrigerator and cold air poured out.

“Are we letting the kids put their lunches in the fridge? Or is it just for snacks?”

I scratched the back of my neck. “I don’t know. That’s one we’ll play by ear.” I tipped my head toward the door. “Grab the clipboard and let’s start checking things off. We’ll start by making sure the art supplies were delivered to the right room.”

As we cut out of the gym and into the hallway, unencumbered by rows of lockers, I remembered that we hadn’t had lockers until junior high. We’d kept all of our school supplies in our desks and hung our coats in the closet in the classroom.

“This place is totally retro,” Astrid said. “I feel like we stepped back in time.”

“Can you believe there were only eight classrooms in this entire school?”

She shook her head. “One wing of my elementary school had eight classrooms.”

“Makes you realize just how super-sized everything has become.” I opened the door to the first room.

The individual desks had been cleared out. A stack of pallets marked ART SUPPLIES took up one corner.

After giving the wall of windows a cursory glance, I said, “I hope this room doesn’t get too hot.” Walker would lose his mind if he saw a single bead of sweat on his wife’s brow. And then he’d probably install central air.

I’d been here before, but Astrid hadn’t. She rocked at multitasking; we cleared half of her list as we wandered from room to room.

The last doors on the far end opened into what used to be a library.

“Oh wow. This is depressing, seeing all these empty shelves.” Astrid ran her hand along the weathered oak. “At every school I spent vast amounts of time in the library. I’ll bet this place was cozy when it was filled with books.”

When I was growing up, spending time in the library was torture. I was an outdoor kid. I wanted to be on the playground or in gym class. I wasn’t a bad student as much as a distracted one. The only series that kept my attention longer than fifteen minutes was Harry Potter, and only if I could read it outside in my tree fort.

“What activity is going on in here?” Astrid asked me.

“I’ll let the instructors hash it out, but I’m betting this room won’t be used at all.”

She smirked. “So if you can’t find me, you’ll know the first place to look.”

“Hello?” A voice echoed down the hallway.

When I saw my sister-in-law Trinity, I couldn’t help but hug her; she looked so damn cute with that baby bump. “Hey, mama. Where’s your ugly half?”

Trinity whapped me on the arm. “Walker is carrying in my bags because you know I’m not allowed to do a damn thing.”

“As it should be.” My eyes narrowed. “He is gonna let you be here unattended, right?”

“Fortunately they’re in the busy time of year and he’s all over town. But I suspect you’ll see him at lunch break since it’s his mission to ensure I eat all my veggies.” Trinity smiled at Astrid. “Hey. Good to see you stretching your wings outside the LCCO office.”

Astrid turned and pointed. “Closest bathroom is right there.”

I stared at her hard. “Why would you feel the need to tell her that first thing?”

“Because I’m pregnant,” Trinity said. “I’m in the bathroom only slightly more often than I’m in the kitchen foraging for food.”

Astrid gave me a smug smile. “My sister had a baby last year. I got used to scouting out the bathroom for her everywhere we went.”

Walker strolled in, his arms overloaded with bags. “Dallas is looking for you.”

“Come on, Astrid, we’ve been summoned.”

We found Dallas in the gym, conversing with a woman in a leotard and tights and a hipster-looking guy, complete with beanie.

Dallas saw me first, and in her normal fashion she came at me in a dead run.

I braced myself and caught her.

She laughed. “Am I ever going to knock you down, you big oaf?”

“Are you ever going to stop acting like an eight-year-old and trying to knock me over?”

“Probably not.” She dropped to her feet.

“Then right back atcha.”

“So is everyone here?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“This is going to be a rockin’ camp, Jens. These kids are so lucky.” She hugged me. “Thanks for making me part of this. I won’t let you down.”

I offered my hand to the woman. “You’re Vanessa? I’m Jensen. Thanks for sticking with the program.”

“I’m happy to be here. I love these kids and I should be thanking you for finding a way to make the camp happen.”

Before I could credit LCCO, the hipster offered me his hand. “I’m Todd, the music teacher. I’ll echo what Vanessa said. It’s awesome that you were able to keep—and expand—the camp.”

Astrid stepped forward. “Hey, everyone. I’m Astrid. I’ve talked to you all on the phone. I’m here for whatever you need.”

“To add to that . . . I won’t be here for all six hours of camp, but Astrid will. I’m the idea guy and she’s the program administrator who makes it happen, so always talk to her first.”

Astrid’s eyes grew huge behind her glasses. But even from the short amount of time I’d spent with her, she’d proven herself more than capable of running this thing.

“Who’re we missing?” Dallas said.

“Lucy.” The door opened and we all turned. “And there she is right now.”

Walker and Trinity joined us.

For the next hour as we went over every minute detail, my feelings of panic only increased. Talk about cocky, thinking I could just run a freakin’ day camp. These people all had dedicated roles in this. What was mine?

I saw Walker and Todd separating conference tables. “Astrid. What am I supposed to be doing?”

“Just stand there and look pretty.”

“It’ll get real ugly real fast if you keep saying shit like that.”

“Relax,” she warned, holding up her hand. “I was trying to be funny, but obviously I didn’t succeed, which is nothing new in my world.” She stepped in closer to confide, “Look, Jensen, you are a celebrity. On registration morning, these kids’ parents will want to meet you since you’re sponsoring the camp—”

“Let’s clear this up once and for all. LCCO is sponsoring the camp, not me personally. I’ll be involved, but I’m not the key player. If not for Dallas, we’d be short two instructors. If anyone deserves credit, she does. Plus, she convinced her mom to loosen the purse strings on this project.”

“She really came through, didn’t she?” Astrid said as she focused on my petite cousin, holding court with Vanessa and Trinity. “She is absolutely amazing.”

“Careful, that sounds like a girl crush,” I teased.

Astrid tipped her head back and met my gaze. “Uh, yeah, about that. I pretty much crush on all women. Only on women.”

I let that sink in. “Get out. So you weren’t flirting with me in the office that day you begged to be part of the project.”

She laughed. “’Fraid not. Bet that was refreshing for you, huh?”

“Very.”

We walked back to the office. After we’d settled in, Astrid at her desk behind her laptop and me at the table beside her with a clipboard full of notes, she said, “As much as I’d love to flirt with Dallas now that I don’t work for her mother, I’m aware that she’s not even a little bi-curious. ‘Hopelessly hetero,’ she assured me.”

“You came on to her?”

“Geez, no. She read my aura, and apparently my attraction to her was as obvious as a big ol’ neon sign.”

I gave Astrid the side-eye. “You believe in that stuff?”

She shrugged. “I believe that more things in life happen because of serendipity than people are willing to admit.”

That made me think of Rowan.

What doesn’t make you think of Rowan?

What was my role in her life? Did I even have one?

Focus on the here and now. “Anything else I should know about you, Astrid?”

“Personally? I’m vegan.”

“So I won’t send you to pick us up lunch.”

She laughed. “I’m a Taurus.”

“Better to be one than to drive one,” I said dryly.

“You are every bit as funny as Rowan assured me you were.”

I stopped doodling in the margins of my notes. “Rowan said I was funny?”

“Yep.” Astrid had refocused on her laptop.

Don’t ask, man. Just . . . don’t.

“What else did she say about me?”

“I don’t remember specifics. But you’ve definitely found an admirer in her.”

I should have told Astrid that Rowan and I were strictly friends.

But Rowan admitting I’m a shitty friend too . . . I couldn’t seem to get that out of my head. Even when I shouldn’t hold out hope things would veer off the “friends” path and we’d blaze a trail right into my bedroom.

Bedroom? Wishful thinking, man. The woman wouldn’t even let you kiss her.

I sighed.

Astrid’s fingers stopped clicking on the computer keys. “Why the heavy sigh, boss?”

I’ve lost my mojo.

What the fuck was wrong with me? Since when did I use the word mojo? No wonder I wasn’t getting laid.

“I do remember something else Rowan said about you.”

My gaze connected with hers. “What’s that?”

“That you have a lot of patience.”

There was another cock-deflating compliment. “Do I even want to know how that came up in conversation?”

Astrid blushed. “Look, I don’t know you very well. And I spent time talking and Skyping with her, getting other parents’ contact information. She said you’d be great with the kids. That not many guys would show the same patience with a thirty-year-old woman that you did with her six-year-old son.”

That jarred me. Patience was a good thing?

She hadn’t asked me to be patient with her.

But you have been.

“She doesn’t look like she’s thirty,” Astrid said offhandedly.

“What’s that have to do with anything?”

“Some guys have a problem dating older women.”

“A, I’m twenty-eight so she’s a whopping two years older than me. B, we’re not dating. We’re neighbors.” Even if we were dating, her age wouldn’t matter to me. That got me to thinking . . . our age difference didn’t bother Rowan, did it?

“How does she take her coffee?”

“Black.”

“What does she drink to relax?”

“Wine. Mostly Zin.” It wasn’t like there was twenty years’ difference between us.

“What’s her favorite TV show?”

“Dancing with the Stars.”

“What kind of music does she listen to?”

“Country. Some hip-hop. Reggae. Weird old stuff.” She and I would be a killer team for music trivia.

“Her favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Her favorite sports team?”

“It’d better be the damn Vikings since she cheers for us.” I glanced up at Astrid and scowled. “What’s with the twenty questions?”

“It was only six questions. And you didn’t hesitate to answer any of them. So you’re more than neighbors, boss.”

We’re more than friends too.

Although I hadn’t even kissed Rowan, we had a connection I’d never felt with any of the women I’d fucked. Crude way to think of it, but I could accept that that was all it’d ever been.

“As her neighbor . . . do you water her plants?”

“She doesn’t have any plants.”

“Do you pet sit for her? Take care of her cat?”

My mind veered off the track and straight onto the smut town express. Oh hell yeah, I’d like to pet her pu—

“Do you borrow stuff from each other all the time?” Astrid asked.

“Like what? A cup of sugar?”

She belted out Maroon 5’s “Sugar” in a truly impressive falsetto.

I laughed. “When the kids are here for camp? No more drinking on the job.”

“Don’t you have training to go to right now?” She held up her phone so I could see the time, and then she pointed to the door. “Go tackle practice dummies or something equally violent and let me do my job in peace.”

I stood and said, “Peace out, yo,” and left for the training complex.

•   •   •

Dante tortured me.

After our workout, I hurt in places I’d forgotten had muscles. Then he forced me into the cold-hot-cold-hot muscle therapy. I swam slow laps in the pool. Then I hit a hot shower. After that I lowered my aching body into an ice bath. Finally I ended up in the sauna. As I lumbered down the hallway to my apartment, I contemplated crawling in bed and calling it a week.

My phone rang and the caller ID read: ROWAN. I glanced at her apartment door. “Hey. I’m in the hallway about to walk into my apartment.”

“Thank god. Look, I hate to ask you this—”

“Just ask.”

“Coach T called an emergency meeting for the cheer team tonight, and neither Daisy nor Marsai is in town so I’m acting team captain. It starts in an hour. Alicia has to leave to go to her other job, so could you watch Calder until I get done?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you! I’ll call Alicia right now and tell her you’ll be over—”

“Calder can come to my place. It’s been a long day and I wanna veg on my own couch. Send a key with him so if he needs anything we can go over and grab it. I need about ten minutes.”

“I’ll let her know. Thank you!”

I changed clothes and checked out my fridge. My weekly meals weren’t delivered until Monday so I had two entrées left. Crispy fried tofu with sugar snap peas, served with a side of kale, quinoa and beet salad. Tomorrow’s dinner was shredded teriyaki turkey with cauliflower and broccoli, and a plain baked sweet potato. Neither of those meals would appeal to a six-year-old boy. Maybe it’d be better if we stayed at Rowan’s place. She had a fully stocked pantry.

But her couch had the texture of a concrete block. Her TV? Half the size of mine. Not that I required luxurious accommodations, but I loved the comfort of my own home. It was the first place I’d lived since I’d left my childhood home that felt like mine.

Knock knock.

I opened the door to Alicia and Calder.

“Hey, little dude, I’m happy we’re going to hang out for a bit.”

Calder clung to Alicia. Usually he raced in and started bouncing on my couch.

I looked at his babysitter.

“Calder had a rough day at school, didn’t you, bud?” Alicia squeezed his shoulder. “He was looking forward to his mom coming home.”

Great. He didn’t want to be here. How did I handle that?

Figure it out. You’ll be facing this at camp a time or two.

Alicia handed me the key. Then she hugged Calder. “See you Monday.” She mouthed “Good luck” to me before she disappeared down the hallway.

I shut the door.

Before I could ask where he wanted to stash his backpack, he said, “I’m hungry.”

“I don’t have much for food. So unless you can come up with a delicious dish using garbanzo beans, eggs and cheese, we’d better grab food from your kitchen and cook it here.”

“Why don’t you have more food?”

“I have a chef who makes my meals, and I’m almost out.”

His eyes got big. “You have your own chef?”

“He’s not just my chef. He cooks for other people too.”

“Can I come over and watch him cook?”

“Absolutely I’d let you if he prepared my meals here. But he cooks in his restaurant kitchen, packages up the food, and then it’s delivered to me. So all I have to do is take it out of the refrigerator or freezer and heat it up.”

Silence.

Calder stared at me. “Like a frozen dinner?”

“Exactly like that.”

“There’s a chicken nugget one in my freezer. I could have that.”

“Let’s go grab it. I’ll put mine in the micro here first.”

We ended up cooking Calder’s meal in his microwave and carrying it over so he could eat it right away. I poured us each a glass of milk.

Dinner was a silent affair.

Calder kept looking at the front of his frozen package, then at me. Finally he said, “You’re not really a giant.”

“I wish I were a giant like Hagrid in Harry Potter.”

He blinked at me.

“You don’t know Harry Potter?”

“Mommy says I can’t watch those movies until I’m eight.”

“You’ve never seen them? Uh. Okay. But I’d wait until after you’ve read all the books. Because the books are way better than the movies.”

Calder burst into tears.

Shit. That was totally freakin’ random.

I crouched down by his chair. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll probably never get to read them because I’m the worst reader in my class!”

“What? Who told you that?”

“Today Tiara said I was gonna flunk kindergarten!” Calder flung himself at me and sobbed as if his soul had been ripped from his chest.

Without knowing what to say, I picked him up and carried him to the couch. He continued to cry, great big racking sobs. Poor kid. I wanted to fix this for him ASAP. Call up one of those expensive private learning centers and demand they send over their best kindergarten tutor right freakin’ now.

After he’d stopped hiccupping, I said, “That’s why you had a rough day at school?”

He nodded.

“Did you tell Alicia what happened?”

“I told her someone was mean to me.”

“She might’ve been able to make you feel better.” Better than this lousy job I was doing.

“I didn’t want her to think I’m dumb. That’s what Tiara called me. A dum-dum.”

“Well, as my babysitter Maria used to say, ‘Consider the source.’” Maybe that was too far over his head. “Did you tell the teacher?”

“I don’t wanna be called a tattletale either.”

“How can I help you?”

Calder shifted and looked up at me. “Can you help me read?”

What could I say to that? No. Sorry, kid, you’re on your own with this whole reading thing. Just because I read doesn’t mean I’m qualified to teach you.

Instead, I said, “Sure. Whatcha got?”

He bounded over the edge of the couch, grabbed his backpack and bounded back. From his backpack he pulled out Go, Dog. Go!

“I remember this book.” The cover indicated it was for early readers. “Have you read it?”

“Mommy reads something to me every night.”

“Lucky you. My mom read to me every night too. So how about if we make a deal? If you read this book to me? I’ll read Harry Potter to you.”

His eyes widened. “For real?”

“For real. I never joke about Harry Potter.”

He bit his lip. “I don’t wanna get in trouble for breaking the house rules.”

“Your mom said you couldn’t watch the movies. But she didn’t say anything about someone reading the books to you, did she?”

“Nope.”

“Then we’re in the clear.” I smiled. “Start that tale—tail, get it?—of Go, Dog. Go!”

“You’re funny.” Calder read slowly, not that I had any idea what constituted speed reading for a six-year-old.

After he stashed his book, I grabbed the hardback edition of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. We snuggled into the corner of the couch and I started to read.

We were so engrossed in the story that neither of us noticed someone knocking at the door until it turned into pounding.

I vaulted over the edge of the couch and opened the door.

Rowan tried—and failed—not to seem annoyed. “I’ve been texting you for almost forty-five minutes.”

“I think I left my phone on your kitchen counter when we went over to get food. Anyway, Calder and I are fine. We’ve been reading and lost track of time.”

She walked past me and stopped in the living room. “What are you reading?”

“Harry Potter!” Calder yelled, and bounced over the edge of the couch to run at his mother. “Isn’t that so cool, Mommy?”

“Yes, it is.” She smiled and tousled his hair. “I missed you today.”

“Did you know that Harry Potter had to live under the stairs?” he demanded.

“I remember that.” She glanced over at the dark TV. “You guys aren’t watching Chopped?”

Calder looked at me. “Uh-oh. We forgot.”

I sent Rowan a challenging look.

“You’ll never hear me complain about him choosing to read a book over watching TV, Jensen.”

“Good to know.”

“Grab your backpack, boy-o,” she said to him. “Bath time, then bedtime, because you have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Why?” Calder complained.

“Because I have to work in the morning and Talia is coming over to watch you. She hasn’t been here before, so you’ll have to show her around.”

“Who’s Talia?” I asked her.

“She’s a former student of mine. Since she’s enrolled in summer classes and only wants part-time work, she agreed to babysit Calder.”

“But I thought Alicia was your nanny?”

“Just during the school year. Alicia’s still in high school and her family travels a lot in the summer. I need a babysitter that’ll be around.”

“Rocketman could be my babysitter,” Calder declared. “Then we could read Harry Potter every day!”

I grinned at him and then locked eyes with Rowan. “While that sounds great, I’m sure your mother would get tired of seeing me every day. That happens sometimes with friends.”

Her cheeks turned bright red.

“I’d play with my friends every day if I could,” Calder said.

“I’m with you there, Calder. It’s fun to play with your friends until you realize maybe one of them is toying with you.”

“That’s not true—”

“I’d share my toys if you’d let my friends come over,” Calder said, oblivious to the underlying conversation.

“How about you, Coach? Got any friends you want to invite over to play?”

Rowan seemed anxious to get away from me as she herded her son toward the door.

Hmm. Too bad, sweetheart. Patience is a virtue but persistence has a better chance of payoff.

“I’ll tag along,” I said. “Last place I remember having my phone was over there.”

“You could bring the book and read more after my bath,” Calder suggested. He walked backward, facing me. His mother had him by the backpack as she practically dragged him away.

“We’ll save it for another time, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Inside their apartment, Rowan disappeared with Calder into the bathroom and I heard their voices—but not what they were saying—until the water kicked on in the tub.

I found my phone by her stove. Then I parked myself at the end of the hallway, waiting for her to emerge.

Her cheeks were flushed. Red wisps of hair stuck to her face. She looked so damn cute and frazzled. She squinted at me. “You’re still here?”

“Yep. Waiting for payment for my babysitting services.”

“Okay. Let me grab my purse—”

“Rowan. I was kidding.”

“Oh.” She slumped against the wall, leaving about a foot of space between us. “Thank you so much for watching Calder tonight. Seriously, Jensen, you were a lifesaver.”

“My pleasure.”

A beat passed. Then two.

I said, “You all right?”

“No. You fluster the hell out of me, Lund.”

There it was. Finally. “Are you expecting an apology, Coach?”

“Would you give me one?”

“Hell no.”

She laughed. “You are the very definition of cocky.”

“And you are the very definition of stubborn.”

“I don’t know that it’s being stubborn as much as it’s a habit.”

“What’s a habit?”

“My default reaction when a man hits on me.”

I fought a grin and lost. “You’re willing to admit you know that’s what it was?”

“Yes. And the end result of my default reaction is to put it—him—in a box. It’s the same box I’ve been using for years.”

“It’s probably pretty crowded in there by now.”

She snickered. “Of course you wouldn’t know that because you refuse to be labeled and neatly compartmentalized into my box.”

“While I’m happy you recognize I don’t fit, it sounds as if you’re pissed off about it.”

“I am.”

I shrugged. “Guess that sucks for you.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. It’d be easier if you didn’t have such a sly and charming sense of humor. If you acted like an entitled billionaire. If you were rude and impatient. If you weren’t so awesome with my son.”

I cocked my head to look at her, but she avoided my gaze.

“It’s hard to be friends with a guy like you.”

“Explain ‘a guy like me.’”

“A guy with that body and that face who is so genuinely thoughtful. A guy with that body and that face who makes me laugh and feel good every time we hang out. A guy with that body and that face who hasn’t ever given a woman like me a first look, let alone a second glance. So when I realized that yes, a guy like you with that body and that face is interested in me, in that way, I had no idea how to handle it. Besides embarrassing the hell out of myself by pretending you misunderstood because I didn’t want you to know how lame I actually am when it comes to recognizing this attraction stuff. Then going out of my way to ignore you this past week as I obsessed about it and tried to figure out what to do.”

My lips curled up slightly. “Have you come to any new conclusions?”

“That I’m horrible at this and a shitty friend.”

“That’s not news, Rowan.”

She sighed. “I know. So I’ll . . . try harder, okay?”

“Try harder to be a better friend?” I said with an edge to my voice.

“Mom!” Calder yelled. “Come here.”

“Just a second, honey.”

“Mommy, I got soap in my eye and it stings!”

Rowan spared me a quick look. “Can we—”

“Go. It’ll keep.”

As soon as she disappeared, I did too.

Neither patience nor persistence seemed to make a bit of difference when dealing with Rowan. She hadn’t decided whether to take that next step over the friendship line with me. Didn’t matter how I felt about it, or her, or what I wanted, and that sucked. This was a clear reminder that I was better off keeping my focus trained on things in my life that I could control.

In my apartment, I grabbed a sparkling water and my keys before I headed out.

Best option for distracting myself from the oh-so-tempting Rowan Michaels was to keep myself busy and out of the building this week.

Thankfully, I had friends and family members to help me out.