All Chapters of The Hockey Playboy's Plus Size Obsession : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

MILA'S POV "Are you actually trying to murder me?" Spencer, my desk neighbor and work rival stares at the box on his desk as if it contains live rattlesnakes. Which it really doesn't. I look down at my handiwork. Eight beautiful lilac cupcakes sit in two neat rows. The frosting is swirled just right, each one topped with a tiny edible flower I found at the fancy baking supply store in Cambridge. I woke up at 5:30 this morning to make them. Spent an hour and a half dealing with batter, my landlord's ancient oven that runs twenty degrees hot, and a piping bag full of frosting in the cramped kitchen of my Boston apartment. My curls are still slightly damp from the shower I rushed through, and there's probably flour somewhere on my plum colored blouse. "No, Spencer." I smile, as sweet as the sugar in the cupcakes. "For the last time, I'm not trying to commit any sort of crime. They're just freshly baked cupcakes. For you." Spencer gives me a look of disdain, but I'm not disco

MILA'S POV I stick out my hand. "I'm Mila Santiago. I'm a junior agent on Rick Hernandez's team at Prime Sports. Rick had something come up, but I'm here to speak to you on his behalf." His grip is surprisingly firm. My fingers feel small and soft wrapped in his, and I try very hard not to notice the warmth that travels up my arm. Jax Kingston laughs. But it comes out more like a grunt and feels more like a stab wound. Because it's really not funny. I see the first man who's made my stomach flip in god knows how long. And he's already dismissing me. "So Rick sent you to do his dirty work," Jax says, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement pulls his compression shirt tight across his shoulders, and I catch another glimpse of dark ink curling up his neck. "He too busy to deal with me anymore?" "Rick will be joining us later. He always has time for his clients." I keep my voice steady, professional. The same tone I use when Spencer tries to undermine me in meetings. Jax s

MILA'S POV Three days.Three days since the iced coffee incident. Three days since Rick assigned me as Jax Kingston's personal babysitter. Three days since I watched that stupid gorgeous man walk away after calling me "007" like it was some kind of joke.And three days since he started ignoring my texts.I stare at my phone screen, rereading the thread of messages I've sent him. The first one was professional and polite:Hi Jax, this is Mila Santiago from Prime Sports. Rick asked me to coordinate our schedule for the week. Let me know when you're free to discuss.Professional. Normal. The kind of text any junior agent would send.He left me on read.The second one, sent four hours later, was slightly less professional:Just following up! Would love to get something on the calendar before the next game. Let me know what works for you.Read. No response.The third one, sent the next morning, was aggressively friendly:*Good morning! Hope you had a great night. I know a great coffee pla

MILA'S POV Jax Kingston is difficult to keep up with. Literally. He's firmly ignoring my stream of questions as he walks ahead of me down the darkening city street, hands deep in the pockets of his black jacket. His dark hair is loose today, falling past his shoulders, and the wind catches it, making him look like some kind of brooding rock star. His pace is fast. He's about a foot taller than me, and he's not wearing heels that make it hard to walk faster than an office appropriate trot. "Earth to Jax," I call after him. "Seriously, where are we going? Because I've been in these heels all day and I'd love to sit down. I mean, it's okay if we're walking more, but I...." He spins around, and I nearly crash into his chest. His tattoos peek out from his collar, dark ink swirling up his neck. I catch a glimpse of waves, a lighthouse. "Enough. Jesus, 007." He stares down at me, his emerald eyes dark in the fading light. "Do you ever stop talking?" "007?" What kind of nickname is t

MILA'S POV I've spent the last twenty-four hours trying to convince myself it's not really fucking hot that Jax called me "sunshine."It's a sarcastic nickname. Probably intended to irritate me. So why does it make my pulse skip every time I think about it?Tonight is the Bay Blades' first game since the iced coffee incident, another home game, this time against Winnipeg. Which means it's my first game attending as Jax's "supervisor."I arrive at the arena early, wearing my most professional blouse (powder blue, matching my heels) and carrying my notebook like a shield. The security guard recognizes me now, waves me through with a nod.The players' lounge is where the team hangs out before games. I've seen it before, during agency meetings, but never like this never as part of the inner circle.I take a breath and push open the door.Ten sets of eyes land on me.Hockey players. Big, sweaty, tattooed, gorgeous hockey players. All staring at the plus-size girl in the blue blouse."Oh,