Page 12 of The Playmaker
"Right—" I start.
She silences me with a raised finger. "Their star player, Jaxon Carter, is on track for the Hall of Fame. Do you know what that means?"
Her eyebrows arch expectantly. "It means you're beinggiven direct access to write about thegoodparts of his life and career. Not an exposé. Not on this guy."
"That's a problem. My specialty is exposing the shady parts of athletes' lives."
I shiver thinking about being near Jax. Those piercing green eyes, that tousled dark hair. It makes my thighs clench and my breath catch. There's something different about him that I can't explain—and I hate what he does to me.
Meeting Ann's gaze, I harden my resolve. "You'll need someone else."
"Avery." Ann's voice cuts like ice. "I'm not asking. Unless you want a sudden demotion, you'll accept the Phantoms' invitation and write the most positive story of your career. Got it?"
She exits without waiting for a response, Juan trailing behind like a loyal puppy.
"Oh my god," I groan.
My phone rings—Pen's name lighting up the screen.
"Finally something good in my day," I answer.
"Two seconds to talk—I'm at a restaurant owners brunch. Girl, I just heard Jax and Hawk from the Phantoms are investing in a new restaurant chain! Put in a good word for me? I want to be at their grand opening!"
I blink, processing this.
"Got to run. Catch you later!"
I stare at my phone. Jax is an entrepreneur?
"No freakin' way."
As I gather my courage to head to the Phantoms' stadium, I feel something other than suspicion stir inside me. Maybe there's more to this guy than meets the eye.
I shield my eyes from the sun, searching for the lean, muscledphysique of my assignment. When I spot him stretching on the field, I try—and fail—not to stare.
When he lifts his shirt to wipe sweat from his face, I press my thighs together involuntarily. What I could do with all that sex appeal... if he were anything but an athlete.
"Ms. Monroe?" a voice interrupts my fantasy.
I squeal, startled.
Coach Marcus Thorne holds up his hands apologetically. "Didn't mean to startle you."
I force a laugh. "No worries."
He waves, and Jax jogs over in powerful strides. I bite my lip. This assignment just got infinitely harder.
Not that I'm into athletes. I'm not. But I have eyes, and he's pure sculpted perfection.
"Well, I assume you both know why you're here," Coach says before leaving us alone.
I level my gaze at Jax. "Look, buddy, I don't know why you pulled strings to get me here, but I have a reputation for digging up skeletons. So wait—what the heck!"
I sputter as he smirks and reaches toward my face. Is he seriously coming onto me in front of everyone?
"You've got some chocolate on your cheek." His smirk deepens as heat floods my face.
I stand frozen while his thumb swipes across my skin.
