Page 15 of Breakaway Daddies

I grin, shielding my eyes from the setting sun with my hand. “Here’s the plan: we tell him if he skips therapy, we’ll put glitter in all his beloved protein shakes, swap his bed sheets with pink satin ones, and change his ringtone to ‘Barbie Girl.’”

Bruno snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, that’ll do the trick.”

“It definitely will,” I say with a grin.

He laughs a little, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel. “Yeah, okay. Maybe.”

The laughter dwindles to a whisper, and I absentmindedly run my hand over the faint stubble on my chin, my brow furrowing with concern. “But, seriously, man. This is gonna be tough,” I admit.

Bruno leans back in his seat, a thoughtful hum escaping his lips. “Yeah.”

Silence stretches between us like a taut wire until an idea strikes. I snap my fingers, a spark of hope lighting up my eyes. “Wait. What about Jinx?”

Bruno shifts his eyes toward me, curiosity piqued. “Jinx?”

“She’s the best physical therapist we’ve got—well, the only one we’ve got. But she’s better than letting him fend for his own!” I explain, my enthusiasm building.

“Sure, she handles team stuff, but this would be more one-on-one. We’d have to actually ask her to take him on. But she knows all about muscle rebuilding and rehab. Plus, unlike us, she actually knows how to motivate people to do things they don’t want to.”

Bruno mulls it over, nodding slowly as if weighing Jinx’s credentials in his mind. “Yeah, she’s smart. And she doesn’t take any nonsense.”

“Exactly.” I flash a confident grin. “Rowan would actually listen to her. Or, at least, she’d find a way to make him.”

Bruno lets out a slow breath. “Yeah. Could work. Plus…” He pauses, casting a quick glance my way, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “She’s cool.”

I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “You do like her, huh?”

He shrugs, attempting nonchalance, though his voice betrays a flicker of interest. “She’s interesting. Not like other girls.”

“Oh, for sure,” I quip with a grin. “Tattoos, piercings, and those almost mystical contacts? She’s like a sexy little sorceress.”

Bruno groans, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, Thomas. Tone it down.”

I chuckle, unable to resist the playful jab. “You’re just mad ’cause I said it first.”

He shakes his head, trying to suppress the grin that threatens to spread across his face as he navigates the car into a spot in the bustling hospital parking lot, the engine purring to a stop.

As soon as he parks, I reach for my phone, fingers tapping rapidly across the screen as I send a text to Jinx.

>> We need your expertise, ASAP. Rowan’s going to be the most stubborn rehab patient ever. We need a PT wizard to handle him.

A few moments later, the phone vibrates in my hand, and I glance at her reply.

>> No kidding. He’s like an old man with a rusty hip. I’ll head over and sort it out with you guys.

I tilt the phone toward Bruno, who’s still gripping the steering wheel with a look of concern. He glances at the message and gives a curt nod.

“Good. Maybe she’ll knock some sense into him.”

We exit the truck, the doors slamming shut behind us, and head toward the hospital’s sliding glass doors.

The anticipation of seeing Jinx outside of work, of getting to hang out with her, makes me giddy like a schoolboy, and I can’t help but laugh to myself.

This situation is about to become very interesting.

Bruno and I pass through the hospital’s automatic doors. Fluorescent lights glare down from the ceiling, reflecting off the polished floors and white walls—a place designed for healing, yet unwelcoming in its brightness.

We make our way down the hall to Rowan’s room, where he sits propped up in bed, his expression sour, like a bear disturbed mid-hibernation. His muscular arms are folded across his chest, and his lips are twisted into a scowl.

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