Page 14 of The Break Down

“You know,” she murmurs, tilting her chin, “you talk a big game for someone who got his head caved in by a rugby ball a few hours ago.”

That lands.

I laugh.

Out loud.

A sharp bark of surprise that makes her grin.

“I mean, you might think you own the game, Big Guy, but that ball?” she teases, poking me in the chest. “That ball really showed you who’s boss.”

“There she is. Keep talking, Red,” I say, voice dropping low again. “See what happens.”

She grins, bold now. “Oh, I’d love to. But I’ve got to go finishthe professional portion of this little photo shoot, remember?”

And just like that, she turns, flipping her camera back on like she didn’t just set my blood on fire.

I watch her walk away, hips swaying in those damn tights like sin was sewn into the seams, and all I can think is one thing.

This is going to be a long, hard season.

In more ways than one.

CHAPTER FIVE-FINLEY

Oh my Flamin’ Hot Cheetos—did that just happen?

After leaving Koa Jackson—hot as fuck, still sweaty, and OMG, was he just flirting with me, Koa mother humping Jackson—on the field, I still can’t catch my breath.

I shouldn’t have flirted with him.

Not really. Or Ever.

Definitely not out loud.

And not with witnesses.

Especially not with that little heat-glint in his eyes like he knew I wasn’t playing fair.

But Koa Jackson opened the door first.

And I, apparently, was dumb enough to walk right through it.

Stupid Finley. Really freaking stupid.

I am just not equipped to handle athing—even if it’s just some harmless flirting—with a guy like that.

He’s a professional athlete, for Pete’s sake!

And I’m, well, I’m me.

I still don’t even know what my actual job title is.

Influencer?

Marketing consultant?

Freelancer?

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