Page 24 of Winning Brynn

Without responding to my message, he tucks his phone into his bag and jogs back to join the rest of the guys kicking balls at a target.

"Isn't your Daddy funny?" I coo to Salem, who giggles as she shoves another fistful of grape slices into her mouth. "He loves you so much, you know that?"

She replies by dumping the rest of the grapes on the floor.

Apparently, she considers this the most efficient way to communicate that she's done with her food.

"Maybe we can try keeping the grapes on the tray next time, huh? I'll know you're finished, I promise."

Another grape slice slips from her fist.

"Okay, cool, we can start on that tomorrow, then."

After cleaning her up and getting her out of the highchair, I settle her in a Pack ‘n Play and pat her little belly until she falls asleep.

And that's how Salem and I spend the next few hours. She sleeps soundly in the crib beside me while I pretend to answer emails from my manager when actually I’m watching Leo workout on the field outside the window.

When he tips his face to the sky and I catch another glimpse of the sweat rolling off his skin, I almost combust.

I can hate him but still find him hot, right?

I'm not doing anything wrong, just appreciating the male form. Like the other guys... Harley is hot, in a boyish, TikTok-thirst-trap kind of way. He’s incredibly tall, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the size of his enormous hands and feet correlate to the size of something else too.

Theo is cute too, especially if you grew up playing with Ken dolls.

And Arun, with his dark features and perfectly sculpted jawline, is the kind of beautiful that belongs in magazines. That campaign he did with Diesel recently? Stunning.

So really, I'm just looking.

It doesn't have to mean anything.

Then why do you only get butterflies and wet panties when you look at Leo?

Ignoring that unhelpful thought, I turn my attention back to my phone and pray to God that the flush will fade from my cheeks before the man himself comes to find us.

If he caught wind of my mild yet incredibly inconvenient crush, his ego would triple in size. And I fear Seattle just isn’t big enough to support it.

"So, how was it?" Leo asks as he drives us back to the apartment in his SUV that has no business being so fancy. Though, it isn't half as ostentatious as my brother's car, so more power to him for that.

In the back, Salem babbles to herself in her car seat.

"It was great. She has terrible table manners, though."

Leo snorts beside me. "Sounds about right."

"She did a lot of eating, a lot of clapping, a little bit of napping," I say, staring out the window at the city blurring past. I've been having a hard time meeting Leo's eye since his practice ended. "Honestly, I was expecting it to be harder, but Ladybug is an angel."

"Don't be fooled. She can be a menace when she wants to be."

The thickness of affection in his voice makes it impossible to stop myself from looking at him. And I regret it the moment I do.

Because the man is a study in swagger. And usually, that word makes me cringe, but there is no other way to describe him right now. In a white Henley with the sleeves pulled up to expose his tan forearms, he rests his elbow on the door frame as he steers the car with one hand. My eyes trace the veins down to the watch on his wrist and the strength of his hand on the wheel, then up to the backward baseball cap on his head.

No wonder he got a woman pregnant.

I could get knocked up just from looking at him.

"Have I got something on my face?" he asks, glancing at me through the corner of his eye with a knowing smirk on his lips.

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