“I know some single women in Sarcasm if you get lonely,” Annika says as she and Grady join us.

Cooper tilts his head. “Yeah, I’m okay with that. You can sleep with anyone in Sarcasm. Except Annika’s sister. Or her mom.”

I recoil. Annika’s sister is in high school, and her mom’s in her fifties and dating someone.

“You’re being a dick again, Cooper,” Darren calls.

“Yeah, but it was worth it to see that look on his face. Who’s up for a game of darts? I feel an ass-kicking coming on.”

Cooper slaps me on the back as he rises. Robinson hops up too, and Trevor slides into Cooper’s vacant seat. “Tell me you’re not being an idiot.”

“Four years, Stafford. I’ve been on this team for four years. You think I’m gonna suddenly be interested in somebody’s sister?”

He frowns. “Yeah.”

“Not happening.” It is so happening.

“Fuck Cooper, man. I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about you.”

I jerk my head toward him. “Grown man here. I think I can handle living next door to a single woman without any danger to my heart.”

He grimaces.

And I realize he might not be talking about me at all. This is my first time spending an off-season here, but it’s not Trevor’s. “Holy shit. You hooked up with her last year, when you were out here for off-season with Cooper, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“But you wanted to.” And now I want to put my fist through a wall.

She’s a damn Siren. She’s getting all of us.

He shakes his head, but it’s not a denial. “I’m about washed up, and I have been for longer than I want to admit. Put me in a house next to a pretty woman who smiles and waves and drops off leftovers after her shift for four solid months, and yeah, it’s hard to not feel like you found a place to belong.”

“She brought you leftovers every night?” Forget the wall.

I want to punch Stafford.

“Yeah. I’m nice to her. Try it sometime. And don’t let anyone tell you her banana pudding is where the magic is. It’s the blondies. With the walnuts and ice cream and maple sauce.” He wipes his mouth. “I’m drooling, aren’t I?”

I signal the server and order a beer. If I don’t, I’m gonna get pissed.

Jesus.

I’m turning to one beer to distract myself.

This is a bad sign.

I also cut a glance at the door. Where is Tillie Jean?

And how good are the locks on my house? And why am I on the verge of raising my flagpole again at the idea that she’ll crawl through my windows and get revenge while I’m gone?

“Why do you get dessert and I get pranks?” I ask Stafford.

“I’m not a dick.”

“She’s a dick.”

He grins. “She is not. And you wonder why you don’t get desserts. But Cooper’s wrong. TJ’s not the queen of on-again, off-again. That was one guy. Not every guy she’s ever dated. For the record. Not that I won’t kick your ass myself if you do something dumb, but I’m not going to lie to you about why.”

Groans and cheers explode at the end of the table, and we both lean in to check it out.

Darren, Tanesha, Luca, and Henri are playing the Go, Ash, Go card game again. Based on the way Henri’s dancing in her seat, I’m guessing she just won.

“Rematch,” Tanesha says. “We played three cards.”

Henri’s still dancing. Her short, curly hair’s grown out since this summer, and it’s not quite as crazy as when it was sticking up like devil horns when we first met her. “Who’s a winner? I’m a winner!”

Luca’s grumbling, but he’s smiling at her too.

Brooks and Mackenzie are leaning over a tablet with Emilio and Marisol, probably looking at honeymoon pictures or talking about weddings.

Francisco’s at the bar chatting up Georgia.

Grady and Annika are making eyes at each other over a basket of fried mushrooms.

And I’m sitting here wondering where my annoying neighbor is, and if she hurt her tailbone or twisted her ankle again, and if I’ll wake up to Lego pieces all over my bedroom floor tomorrow.

And how I should pay her back if I do.

The server returns with my beer, and I climb to my feet as soon as I’ve had a gulp. “Pool?” I ask Trevor.

“Aw, I thought you’d never ask.”

Team first. Team second. Pranks a distant third.

More boners for Tillie Jean, never.

That’s the plan.

We’ll see if it works.

18

Tillie Jean

Sloane and I walk into The Grog like two cowboys swinging into an old west saloon, except for the part where my ass hurts a little every time I step with my left foot, there’s no saloon music, and if I called out Giddyup, cowboy!, my grandfather’s parrot, who’s flitting around the room from perch to perch, would probably laugh at me and tell me to fuck off because this is a pirate town.

But we’re still trying for swagger.

“Oh my gosh, she’s even more adorable in person than on the picture on her website,” Sloane breathes.

It takes me a minute to remember who she is, since my eyes have immediately gone to the pool table, where Max and Trevor are engaged in a game that has both of them appearing relaxed and happy, which is dangerous territory.

They’re both drinking out of traditional Grog steins, though I’d bet hard money Max’s drink is plain tea. And then I wonder if he’s having a hamburger tonight. I’ve heard through the grapevine that he stops by once a week and orders one. His one indulgence after eating clean and working out hard all week to stay in top shape the other six and two-thirds days of the week.

I can’t do one indulgence a week.

I need one of Grady’s donuts at least two mornings a week, plus Korean barbecue any opportunity I get, and I’m no slouch in the kitchen or on the grill.

It’s why I have to do aerobics at the senior center and participate in the town’s 5k runs.

And now I’m wondering if Max would ever do aerobics at the senior center like Cooper does on occasion.

“I can’t do it, TJ,” Sloane whispers.

“What? You stop by boot camp all the time.”

She gives me a weird look.

I give her a weird look right back, realize I was lost in my head and boot camp has nothing to do with what she’s talking about, and straighten with a hot-cheeked smile. “Oh. Right. Henri. C’mon. She’s awesome, and you’ll make her night if you ask her to sign your autograph book.”

One eye crinkles. “Why were you thinking about boot camp?”

“The brain works in mysterious ways. And right now, my brain says you need to meet Henri.”

“Can we do it in the ladies’ room though? I don’t want the rest of the team to see.”

“So long as I give her a heads-up first. If it’s a planned bathroom ambush, that’s okay. If it’s unplanned, it’s awkward.”

“Tillie Jean!” Marisol rises and waves at me, and the group bent over a card game at the end of the pushed-together tables all look up too. “Come show Emilio the picture of your painting that you showed me earlier.”