Brock snorted.
“Alright, break it up,” I called, stepping farther into the room.
Bennett’s head snapped up mid-rep, sweat dripping onto the mat. “Coach, we were just—”
“Save it,” I said. “I don’t remember this being a part of anybody’s strength training program.”
Pink gave one last grunt, knocked out two shaky push-ups, and collapsed onto his stomach like he’d been shot. Matty lasted three more—purely for the show—before rolling onto his back with a grin.
“Looks like you’re heading to the tanning booth, Pinky boy,” Soren called, smirking.
“Fuck off,” Pink shot back, rolling to his feet and grabbing his water bottle.
While the others continued razzing him about whether he should go with a subtle pumpkin spice latte shade or full-on Oompa-Loompa, I leaned over to Brock. “Give me a few minutes?”
“Sure,” he said easily, slipping an arm around Tucker’s waist without missing a beat. Tucker didn’t even look away from the scene in front of us, just reached up and twirled a finger through Brock’s hair like it was second nature. “I’m in no rush.”
I crossed the room, catching Pink next to the squat racks. “Walk with me.”
He gave me a quick, curious glance but followed as I steered us toward a quieter corner at the opposite end of the room. “Is this about the spray tan? Because I’m already planning to wear long sleeves for the next month.”
I waited until we were out of earshot of the others before laying my cards on the table. “It’s about Dani.”
“In all seriousness, coach, it’s probably best I stay out of whatever’s going on between the two of you.” He quickly added, “Just so long as you understand that I’m not going anywhere. Dani is practically family, so that little bun in her oven might as well be my niece or nephew. Treat them right and we’re cool.”
His tone was easy enough, but there was a thread of warning underneath. This wasn’t the first time he’d given me “the talk” about treating his friend right.
When Pink had first found out about us last year, he had spelled out in no uncertain terms what would happen if I hurt her. No raised voices, no dramatics, just a calm, pointed reminder that Dani deserved nothing less than the world. Not the best delivery, but it had made me look at him with newfound respect. Dani was lucky to have someone like Pink in her corner.
“I have no intention of fucking things up with her again.” He nodded. “But you live with her—you have the best read on how she’s really doing.”
He tilted his head, studying me like he was taking my measure. “You want intel.”
“I want to know if there’s anything she needs.” And even though I knew I would probably regret it later, I somehow found myself adding, “I have a feeling that she’s more likely to share that with you than me.”
“That’ll come at a price.”
I folded my arms. “What do you want?”
Pink’s grin tilted.
“Wall sits.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Wall sits,” Pink repeated, like it was the most natural sentence in the world. “It’s like you always say, coach. You gotta make them earn it.”
That was how I ended up with my back flat against the cement wall, knees bent at ninety degrees. Pink dropped down beside me with a little too much confidence for someone who’d just lost a push-up contest.
“Alright, coach. What do you want to know?”
“Cravings,” I said without missing a beat.
“It used to be hot Cheetos and ice cream, but she’s recently moved onto avocados and peanut butter. Oh, and she pretends she’s over pickles, but I caught her drinking straight out of the jar the other night.”
Well, anything was better than laundry starch.
“How about sleep?”
