Page 10 of Most Likely to Score
My pet project, so to speak.
Our players work on many charitable endeavors, but I’m also allowed to shepherd a project each year. I’ve organized an annual bachelor auction that’s been ahuge hit, but with the quarterback now off the market, I might need to shift to a new effort.
I have one.
I clear my throat. “There’s something I’d like to work on, Lily. It intersects with what we’ve been talking about. We haven’t done this before, but I’ve been researching, and I think it could be an amazing charity project.”
“Do tell.”
I want to do a calendar—our players posing with rescue puppies and kittens. Those always do well and we haven’t produced a calendar like that in a long time. When I share the details, her eyes light up. She stabs her desk with a manicured finger. “Yes. Do that. But I think it should be with one guy. One who would benefit most from this.”
I tense. “And who would that be?”
She smiles, nodding to the screen.
Equal parts excitement and nerves flare through me. Working that closely with Jones can’t possibly be good for my libido. I’ll have to double down, triple down on my stony-faced stoicism in the presence of his hotness, and that won’t be easy.
But working that closely with him might be very good for my job, so I’ll have to find a way. “I’ll put together a proposal for him.”
I rise and make my way to the door, when Lily calls out, “By the way, the VP of publicity post is opening up in the fall.”
I blink and square my shoulders.
“I’d love to see you land the job,” she adds with a knowing smile when I turn around.
My heart zips through the sky. There’s nothing I want more than to keep moving up, and the chance to rise from director of publicity to VP is tremendous. “It’s open? You think I can nab it?” My question comes out as a squeak. I can’t wait to tell my dad. He’s going to be so excited.
She smiles broadly. “A project like this can go a long way toward making a case with the GM for why it should be you.”
I nod enthusiastically as a million ideas for magazine pitches, photo ops, and fundraisers flash through my brain. “I’ll reach out to Jones right away.”
Screw my libido. He might be the path to a promotion.
8
JONES
I can lay claim to some pretty impressive stats, and for the last few years as a star receiver for a winning NFL team I have, but my favorite one to share is this—ten and three-quarter inches.
Pretty big, huh?
You don’t get into the double digits too often.
That’s nearly as long as a football.
And that makes me a one-of-a-kind guy.
C’mon.
I’m talking about my hands. These hands have won championships. These hands have caught circus catches in the biggest games. These hands are a beautiful target for game-winning passes. I know exactly what to do with these hands.
Especially when it comes to enjoying the soft, sweet flesh of a woman. A touch here, a touch there, and I can have her melting beneath me. They’re a multi-purpose asset, and these hands—and other parts—have come out to score quite often after hours. There’s no betterway to enjoy a career as a pro baller, as far as I’m concerned.
Except when it comes time to clean up my act.
Turn over a new leaf. Start fresh. Remake myself into a good, upstanding citizen and kick those party-boy ways to the curb. Fine, I can do that. I can absolutely do that.
And hell, do I ever need to after some of the shit I’ve had to deal with in the last few years.
