Page 67 of Dump Tackle My Heart
Perfect. Raw. Real.
I hold her there for a long moment, chest to her back, arms caging her in like I could protect her from everything.
Because I will.
Then I carefully pull out, wrapping her in my arms before she can drift too far.
I lift her off the ground and walk us both to the big bed, settling her first than me beside her on the soft mattress.
“No running,” I murmur against her hair. “Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”
And she doesn’t argue.
She just melts into me.
We curl up beside one another, bodies tangled beneath a blanket, lights glowing low.
Her head rests on my chest. Her breath soft. Steady.
And I swear I’ve never felt more whole.
Not in my whole goddamn life.
CHAPTER 22-DANIELA
Monday rolls around like clockwork,smug and cold and completely unsympathetic to the fact that I spent the weekend riding out a blizzard—andHudson “Tank” Jackson.
I get to work about four hours after him.
He’s already been at practice in the brand-new indoor paddock that the boss had built to keep the team training year-round, snowstorm or not.
It’s a brilliant, massive space, all steel and glass and heat-activated turf that somehow smells like money and sweat and ambition.
And him.
Don’t ask me how I know that. I just do.
I don’t head toward the indoor turf where the guys are beating the hell out of each other, though.
Nope. I take the safe route—straight to the media wing where Finley’s got her own mini PR kingdom carved out like a queen in low heels.
One corner is a tricked-out workstation; the other is a sleek little sound booth we use to capture everything from player intros to sponsorship reels.
There’s even a green screen and a ring light with automatic filters.
If there’s one good thing about having a billionaire boss, it’s the toys.
And the fact that we’re using every single one of them to build the Carolina Rovers into something the entire country is obsessed with.
Literallyobsessed.
Because right now?
#SnowedInWithARoveris trending in every time zone.
“’Bout time, sunshine,” Finley drawls without even looking up. She’s watching her tablet like it’s a particularly juicy drama. “You missed all the fun.”
“I was snowed-in,” I say casually, hanging my coat on the back of my chair and pretending like my thighsaren’tstill sore. “It was kind ofa lot.”
