LOGINNatalieMy fingers tremble as I shuffle the cards, aware that we are done here, and that any more questions will be arranged next week after I’ve gone through the other players. But one card in particular stops me.And it’s the one written in my boss’s scrawly handwriting.Got a few questions from the fans. Ask him about these, the card reads, and as I glance over them, mortification grips my bones. These questions are way better than unpacking everything the smug bastard has just said.“Moving away from that, Mr. Wolfgang. I have a few quickfire questions from your fans before we wrap this up.”Jaxon’s lips curve into a slow smirk like he can see me diverting. “Fire away, Miss Anderson.”“At thirty-nine and the oldest among the Titans, fans have started calling you ZaddyWolfgang. The nickname has been used by nearly a million followers online. My question is, does ZaddyWolfgang have a Mrs. Wolfgang stashed away somewhere?”Christ, Tim. What kind of fans are these?But I know what ki
Natalie God, those online pictures don’t do him justice. The bastard is still obnoxiously handsome in person.That’s my first thought when I see him, because the moment Jaxon walks through those doors, I know I'm in trouble.At thirty-nine, he's grown into his features in a way that makes my mouth go dry despite every rational thought screaming at me to stay focused.His dark hair is thicker now, with a few silver locks falling over his forehead in a way that screams “billionaire sugar daddy” from a mile away.The muscles beneath his expensive suit have filled out, broader shoulders straining against the fabric of his jacket.The damn coat is cut so perfectly, but it hangs open enough that I can see a hint of his chest beneath it.My traitorous mind immediately flashes to memories of him guiding me with those steady hands, whispering “Easy, Freckles” in that commanding yet tender voice as he worshiped every inch of me until I was completely his.The room becomes even smaller for me
JaxonAdjusting my cufflinks in the hallway outside the media conference room, trying to get this interview over with as quickly as possible, I watch as my assistant Liza approaches.She’s clutching her tablet with that look she gets when she thinks she needs to sell me on something.“I really think you should know that today's journalist isn't like the others. She's doing an in-depth championship series, focusing on each player rather than the whole team,” Liza continues to explain.Believe it or not, I’ve heard this exact pitch from her mouth before, and as I straighten my tie, my mind starts cataloging the clipped responses I'll give.This is just another journalist looking for the angle that'll set off their career, or probably hoping I'll slip up and give them something personal to exploit.After years of interviews, I’ve learned how to maneuver my way through them."She won't be asking any invasive personal questions," I state more than ask, meeting Liza's eyes with the look tha
Jaxon The afternoon air is thick with the metallic scent of sweat and cut grass.I run through the practice drill, my arm snapping forward and launching a tight spiral thirty yards down the field.The ball rockets through the air, landing right in the corner of the end zone, where my receiver would be, and exactly where the touchdown would be completed to announce a win.If I was a rookie, I’d be elated by the throw.But with close to twenty fucking years playing this game behind me, throwing a ball in an empty field is the only time I get to fucking breathe.However, my breathing is cut short when my wolf catches the scent of my Beta almost twenty feet away from me. He growls inside of me with frustration at the thought of being interrupted.“Sorry to interrupt,” Ethan calls out as he approaches, but there's nothing apologetic about his tone.I push my hair back, an inkling of what this is about irritating me worse than the sweat cascading down my chest.“What is it?”“Your father
Natalie “You are gonna poke a hole in his face if you keep staring at him like that.” Freda’s voice slams me from behind, and I turn around, hand on my heart.“Jesus Christ, you scared me.”Standing in the doorway, my best-friend-slash-roommate holds grocery bags in one hand and a gym bag slung over her other shoulder. Freda has been my anchor through everything.Whether it’s being an emergency contact at Harry’s preschool, babysitting when work takes control over my life, or being my only family after my dad died when I was seventeen, Freda’s been with me through it all.We met during my senior year of high school when she transferred from Chicago after her parents' messy divorce. Two broken girls who found family in each other.She needed stability after years of her parents' toxic marriage and them ignoring her, and I needed someone who understood what it felt like to navigate the world without a safety net.It also helped that she worked from home as an online consultant.“You s
NatalieDominant in the field. A fiend with the spirals. Unstoppable.The words glow on my laptop screen, stark against a high-resolution photo of Jaxon Wolfgang. I should be focusing on the next article, the one hyping him as the greatest comeback story in the league at the age of nineteen, but my gaze is locked on his face.Specifically on those blue-grey eyes that still make my heart ache and my hands tremble.“Natalie? You’ve read the articles?” Paul’s voice, thick with the effects of his smoking days catching up to him, filters over the phone.My boss is a good man.He started off as a paper boy in the seventies without a single cent to his name. He had built his own sports network, Network Sports Today, known as NSN. I respected the hell out of Paul Bradford.When it comes to being obsessed with players, he’s a maniac.“I’ve read them all, Paul. I’m on my fourth article this morning, believe it or not.”I add a chuckle for good measure, but underneath it, memories of the past







