“Thank you,” Taylor said. She walked past him on the way to the refrigerator and caught a familiar whiff of spicy orange and sandalwood. She didn’t know if it was his cologne or body wash, but it made her nipples pebble into sharp, painful points. She’d smelled that scent all night, it invaded her sleep, seeping into her dreams.

“You don’t have your crutches,” Jamar remarked with a hint of surprise.

“My ankle is doing much better,” she said as she grabbed a bottle of her favorite lemon and ginger kombucha. The fact that he’d stocked the fridge for her made her heart skip twice.

“Are you sure you’re not pushing yourself to do more than you should?”

“I won’t be running marathons anytime soon, but I think I can manage to get around on my own. I promise I’ll grab the crutches if I feel the slightest twinge. I’m not a complete fool.”

Taylor was almost certain she saw him flinch at her words. Before she could question it, he said, “I told Micah about what we’ve been doing.”

Her mouth dropped open. “About what we did in the pool house?”

“About you training me,” he clarified.

“Oh,” Taylor said. “Oh, of course.” The meaning of his words sank in. “Oh,” she said again. “So does this mean you’re ready to make your intentions to return to the NFL public?”

He vigorously shook his head. “Not yet.” He took a sip of coffee, then set the mug on the counter beside him. Shoving his other free hand into his pocket, he hunched his shoulders and continued. “I just thought it was time to bring Micah into the fold. It will be his job to set up the workout for teams when I’m ready to showcase my skills.”

“Okay. That sounds good.” She wrapped her hand around the bottle cap, but didn’t twist it open. She just continued to stand there like Bambi caught in headlights.

After several uncomfortable moments ticked by, Jamar asked, “So, about what we did in the pool house. Are we just not going to talk about it?”

She uncapped the kombucha and took a much too generous sip. The spicy, fermented drink hit her throat like liquid fire. Jamar came over and patted her back.

She put a hand up. “I’m okay.” She coughed again, then finally said, “Um, not talking about it was kinda my plan.”

He dropped his head back and groaned up at the ceiling.

“Taylor, come on. We can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

“Why not? We’re great at pretending. It’s sorta our thing.”

“I’m not pretending,” he said. “Not this time. Not anymore.” His intense stare burned a hole straight through her. “How am I supposed to act like nothing happened when all I can think about is how it felt to be inside of you yesterday?”