Alle Kapitel von The Hockey Playboy's Plus Size Obsession : Kapitel 11 – Kapitel 20

Mila's POV Knox, shirtless and wet‑haired, cackles from the corner. "Damn, Mila. I think you got the wrong room. But I can see how you made that mistake. We're a sexy bunch of fellas." My eyes quickly land on Jax. He's sitting on a bench, a white towel wrapped around his waist. And nothing else. His chest is covered in tattoos—waves, a compass, the Maine coastline. Dark ink swirls over his pectorals, down his ribs, across his shoulders. Water drips from his hair, sliding down his throat, over his Adam's apple. Heat curls in the depths of my stomach. I blink, remembering I'm in a room full of half‑naked hockey players. "What do you think you're doing in here?" Jax asks, voice low and tight. "We need to talk about what just happened back there." I plant my hands on my hips. Before I know it, he's rising to his feet. His strong fingers close around my arm, and I'm being tugged after him through a door at the end of the locker room. "Bye, Mila!" Knox yells. "Come back anytime!"

Mila's POV The first road trip. Tampa, Florida. Warm weather, palm trees, and a private charter flight with the entire New England Bay Blades organization. I act like I'm not nervous. I act like I'm used to this. I act like my heart isn't pounding as I wheel my suitcase across the tarmac. "Good god," Sullivan exclaims, pointing at the hazy blue sky. "Sunlight! Warmth! I'd forgotten temperatures above freezing existed." "It shouldn't be warm in December," Jax says from beside me. "It's just unnatural." "Oh, you Northerners," Sullivan teases. "You think there's something admirable about freezing your ass off for five months. It ain't." Jax snorts. "You've lived in Boston for over a decade. You're more of a New Englander than you'd like to admit." "I like winter in Boston," I say, squinting in the sunlight. "Yes, it's frigid. But there's something beautiful about those cold, crisp mornings with perfect blue skies. And when ponds freeze over and everyone skates on them... It's the

MILA'S POV "You're home early," Kira says when I walk through the apartment door. She's sprawled on the couch in her chef's whites, a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other. "I thought you were at the arena." "Practice ended early. Jax had a sponsor meeting." "Jax." Kira wiggles her eyebrows. "So we're on a first-name basis with the hot goalie now?" "We've been on a first-name basis for weeks. He's my assignment." "Uh huh." She takes a long sip of wine. "Your mom called. She's dropping off some boxes from her apartment. Said she's finally clearing out the storage unit." I freeze halfway to the kitchen. "Boxes? What kind of boxes?" "I don't know. Old stuff from when you were a kid? She sounded excited." A cold dread trickles down my spine. The doorbell rings before I can respond. I cross the apartment and pull it open to find my mom on the doorstep, her leopard-print coat flashing under the hallway light. She's holding a cardboard box, her head sticking

MILA'S POV The bell above Morning Bean's door hasn't even stopped jingling before Jax Kingston is striding past me, heading in the opposite direction of where I parked my car. "Where are you going?" I call after him, my sunflower-yellow heels clicking against the sidewalk as I hurry to keep up. "The meeting isn't over. We haven't discussed the media schedule, and you haven't signed anything—" "I told you," he says without turning around, his dark hair swinging against his broad back, "I need to think more clearly." "And you can't think clearly in a perfectly nice cafe with excellent lighting and comfortable chairs?" He stops so abruptly that I nearly collide with his shoulder blades. When he turns, those green eyes pin me in place. "No. I can't." He starts walking again. Faster this time. I've spent five years learning how to read people in negotiation rooms. I've watched agents bluff and clients fold. I've seen Rick charm millionaires out of their wallets. But Jax Kings

JAX POV The locker room is loud after practice. Guys are laughing, stripping off gear, throwing towels at each other. Normal chaos. But I can't focus on any of it. Because Mila is standing in the doorway. She's holding her notebook and that ridiculous iced coffee she carries everywhere, her powder blue blouse slightly wrinkled from sitting in the stands. Her dark curls are escaping her ponytail, and there's a flush on her cheeks from the cold walk back inside. Knox spots her first. "Hey, babysitter!" He's shirtless, sweat still glistening on his chest. "Come to take notes on our magnificent bodies?" "Knox." My voice comes out harder than I intended. "What? I'm being friendly." "You're being an idiot." I push off from my stall and walk toward Mila. "Ignore him." "I've dealt with worse," she says, smiling. "Your friend Spencer sounds delightful." "Spencer isn't my friend." "Could've fooled me." She's standing close enough that I can smell vanilla. Sugar. Somethin