She looked me up and down appreciatively and did nothing to hide it. Her eyes lingered along the hem of the towel. She took a step closer. This time I stood where I was. I was seconds from pulling her into my arms and skipping the press conference altogether, but I still had to do my job. She looked amazing, though, in a tight black sweater, gray slacks, and black boots. Her hair was pulled up in a bun with sexy tendrils framing her face. She was so sexy.

“We both agreed it was time. The kids are adjusting to the news that we won’t be in the same house, but they understand that Grayson will be around all the time and available whenever they need him.”

I was surprised they didn’t wait. Somebody at the courthouse would see the paperwork and talk to the press. It was inevitable. As much as I wanted to be in this moment, I had to get upstairs. “Listen, I have about ten minutes to get ready. I can’t talk to you right now.”

“I’ve learned the best way to get your attention is to be in your space. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not,” she said.

I blew out a deep breath. “I’m going to change now. This towel is dropping to the floor in three, two…”

She held up her hand. “I’m only leaving because the next time I see you naked will be because you want me to.”

It was unnerving how quickly she got to me. I flipped the lock and dropped the towel. I got ready as quickly as possible. I sneaked in right as Bill was introducing us and sat as if I timed it perfectly.

“I have to give a lot of the credit to both coordinators, Coach Marcus Atkins and Coach Sutton McCoy,” Bill said.

It took everything I had to stay in the moment. Bill teased me at my lack of focus and we all laughed. Nobody cared. We were going to the playoffs, and everyone wanted to celebrate. The reporters were happy for us, and after twenty minutes of never-ending questions, Bill called it. We had a busy day tomorrow. Film was at ten and Bill told us he didn’t want to see anybody there earlier than that.

I whistled for Crowbar and zipped home. My energy level was high. I changed into sweats and a T-shirt, heated spaghetti, poured a glass of wine, and curled up on the couch with Crowbar. My phone dinged and I ignored it. I finished my glass of wine and moved to water. When my doorbell rang, I thought for sure my neighbors Tom and Lottie Griffith with their deep tans were there to let me know they were back from Florida.

Parker stood in my doorway. “I tried calling, but you didn’t answer your phone. Oh, my God. I sound just like my parents.”