He’s a grumpy, retired kicker who says he only breaks things. I’m a thirty-year-old virgin with something he can break (and I don’t mean my heart).

How does one get to be a thirty-year-old virgin?

In my case, start with being risk-averse and cautious, focused on building your career, then inherit your 12-year-old, special-needs brother. Done!

Zane Bradford appeared at the perfect time. He takes my brother to equine therapy, he gives me rides to work, and he rescues me when I collapse in the shower. (Yes, he saw me naked.) He says he only breaks things, but I only see him fixing everything. Heck, his job is as a repair man.

This grumpy, angry god with lean muscles, silky dark hair, and ice blue eyes has taken himself out of the game. But massage therapy is my job, and I’m ready to play.

Rachel Wells is ruining everything. She walks into my workplace and argues with me, talks back, defends herself. She gives me romance books to “improve my mood,” and insists on massage therapy to ease my pain. Chronic pain isn’t my problem—she is, with her bright green eyes and sassy attitude. Then she tells me she’s never been kissed. (What’s wrong with the men in Birmingham?) The more she tempts me, the more I feel my resolve weakening. She wants to play, but I’m not going to break.

(THE WAY WE PLAY is a small-town, grumpy-sunshine, sports romance with close proximity, enemies-to-lovers vibes, and a virgin FMC, and an over-protective alpha hero. No cheating. No cliffhanger. No third-act breakup.)