I hit him on the arm. “Then you went into the wrong profession, my man.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” He grins with a shake of his head.
The three of us fall back into our rhythm, rep after rep, punctuated only by the sound of the weights hitting the mats.
“You talk to Penny today?” Finn asks between sets. “She texted me at seven in the morning about some charity schedule for July.”
“Same,” I say. “She acts like the offseason doesn’t exist.”
Miles shrugs. “I’m wondering why no one has planned a summer getaway.”
“Does the team always do one?” I ask. “I thought that was just a bye week thing.”
“Bye week is an official team vacation,” Miles answers. “But don’t we usually end up on a trip or two in the summer?”
“I feel like one of the couples will plan a vacation, and the rest of us will tag along.” Finn laughs.
“True,” Miles says.
Finn looks at me. “Maybe this summer we should plan a single-guys-only vacation. Really go all out. I heard this team used to have epic bye weeks—tons of girls, nothing but partying.”
“It’s going to be a pretty pathetic gathering,” Miles cuts in.
I nod because I have to agree. Most of the team is coupled up at this point.
“Plus,” Miles continues, “Beckett planned everything. Now that he’s married with a kid, it’s different.”
“Right,” Finn says. “So it’s up to us—the younger players—to take over and plan the outings.” He drags a towel over his face.
“Sure. We’ll do that. But first, we have to make our tee time.” I toss my towel over my shoulder and head toward the locker room.
The water hits my back in a rush of heat and pressure. Muscles loosen instantly. I close my eyes, letting the spray hammer across my shoulders.
My mind drifts, uninvited, straight to her.
Tessa.
I didn’t mean to think about her again. Doing so is becoming a problem. I know nothing about this woman but her name, yet she’s taken up permanent residence in my brain. The memory of her voice, her lips pressing into that thin line, the way she held her wrist tight against her chest like she was guarding more than skin—none of it has faded.
Finn’s voice bounces off the tile. “You planning on standing in there until the hot water runs out?”
I snap, “Relax. I’m almost done.”
“Good,” he says. “Because we’re stopping for coffee on the way to the golf course, or I’ll be useless on the green.”
A few minutes later, we’re all dressed and heading out. Finn holds up a hand. “I know you love Starbucks, but can we go anywhere else? I can’t deal with the barista who keeps asking for my number.”
Miles pats him on the shoulder. “Imagine being so desirable. Must be exhausting.”
“Don’t mock my struggles,” Finn says.
“What about that place on Maple?” Miles suggests. “It’s a little mom-and-pop place. Been there a few times. Good coffee.”
“I’ve never been,” I say.
“You won’t be disappointed,” Miles replies.
“I’m game,” Finn says. “You driving, Logan?”
