Page 3 of Power Play
Ward goes to escort me out.
"I'll take you up to HR where you'll get your badge, ID, and a charge card set up for any Titans related expenses during travel."
I nod, but as we're walking by one of the boys doing band work to strengthen his hip flexors, I notice his angle is slightly off.
As we walk past, I bend slightly and adjust his leg position, so the exercise is more effective. He looks up at me, surprised, but I just smile and answer Ward. "That'd be great, thank you."
Ward leaves me with HR and I'm back at my new apartment before noon.
I have the weekend to finish unpacking, kick this cold I feel coming on, and start the next part of my life.
With the North Carolina Titans.
Chapter two
Scott
Fuck me, she's pretty.
This was a bad idea. I should have pushed back against Craig and insisted he choose someone else. But her resume is fantastic, her referrals glowing, and I really couldn't find a reason to reject her.
Except that she's gorgeous and has me thinking inappropriate things about my new team physical therapist.
And it's not just physically. Sure, she's got sinfully plump lips, a body that shows she clearly works out, and a calm confidence that's sexy as hell.
But it's those forest-green eyes that seem to tug at your soul. It's the sadness that she wears like a second shadow. It's the smile that never quite hits her eyes, that is, until she saw the equipment room and rink. It's a darkness in her eyes; the one that says she's guarded. That she's been hurt before, and badly. She's still wearing the scars of something deep. And maybe it's her darkness calling to mine that intrigues me.
There’s a weight in her eyes that feels achingly familiar. I know that feeling. I live it every day.
And I know enough about myself to recognize my white knight syndrome rearing it's ugly head. Someone so beautiful shouldn't be so sad. I want to get to know her - know her darkness. Comfort her, make her smile, let her know everything will be okay. Be the solid foundation she can rest upon. And that white knight syndrome is riding in on a wave of lust.
I stifle a groan and rub my hand down my face.Get it together, Ward, you're forty-fucking-five years old. You can't be lusting after your twenty-something co-worker.
I mentally take my attraction and lock it securely in a box in the back of my brain. I have no room, time, or inclination to get involved with anyone, let alone someone I'll have to see every day at work. She doesn't need rescuing; I don't need to get personally involved. She's a grown woman. She can hire a shrink.
I was impressed with how seamlessly she fit in with the team and Lauren. The way she didn't miss a beat in our conversation, but adjusted Thompson's angles to be more effective, like she did it unconsciously. I admired her genuine joy and passion for what she does. Maybe I've surrounded myself with vapid, shallow women too long, and listening to a young woman, so passionate about her career, and not trying to get down my pants is fucking with my head.
But I know the risks of working with someone you're attracted to. The distraction, the long hours on the road, the forced proximity of seeing them, talking to them every day. It's a recipe for disaster. And then you can't escape them because while your relationship imploded, you still have to see them every day at work.
Lacey and I will be working closely to rehab this team. Between keeping the healthy players healthy, and rehabbing the injured ones, the PT team is who I work with the most.
I also noticed the boys checking her out while she wasn't looking. Some checked her out when shewaslooking. A bunch of twenty-somethings athletes, at their peak physical performance, is basically like wrangling a bunch of horny toddlers.
She can fuck as many as she wants as long as it doesn't interfere with their game play. The fucked-up part about it, though, is the strong urge I have to claim her.Minemy lizard brain screamed the moment she walked into Craig's office for the interview two weeks ago.
This is so fucked up. But no matter what, I’ll keep my distance. She deserves better than my baggage, and I can’t afford to let this job—or her—become a distraction.
Chapter three
Garrett
"Ilove you, Jonesy."
"Mhm."
"No, really. Look at me. We're meant to be."
I scroll Snapchat, already bored with this conversation.
