All Chapters of The Hockey Playboy's Plus Size Obsession : Chapter 21 - Chapter 27

MILA'S POV The post-game celebration is in full swing when the sponsor arrives. I'm standing near the tunnel, trying to look professional while my ears are still ringing from the crowd. Jax just recorded a shutout—37 saves, a masterclass in goaltending. The Bay Blades won 3-0, and the energy in the arena is electric. But Rick texted me ten minutes ago: Sterling is coming down. Be nice. Sterling. The billionaire who owns the insurance company plastered across the Bay Blades' jerseys. The man who could make Jax's life miserable if he wanted to. And he's brought his son. "Fantastic game," Sterling says, shaking hands with Coach Reed. He's in his seventies, silver-haired, with the easy confidence of someone who's never been told no. "I think you've got a playoff run on your hands this year." "Thank you, sir," Sullivan says. "Early days. We're just focusing on the next game." "Don't be so modest!" Sterling grabs the arm of the young man beside him—college-aged, skinny, we

MILA'S POV I make it three steps out of the equipment room before I hear the door open behind me. "Mila." Jax's voice is low. Rough. It stops me mid-stride. I don't turn around. "You need to get dressed. Your team is waiting." "Let them wait." His footsteps echo on the concrete floor. Closer. Closer. "Jax—" "I'm not finished talking to you." I finally turn. He's standing in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame. The white towel hangs low on his hips. His chest is bare. His chest. I've seen it before—glimpses, flashes. But not like this. Not up close, in the dim light, with no one else around. The tattoos are everywhere. Dark ink swirling over his pectorals, down his ribs, across his shoulders. Waves crashing against a rocky shore. A lighthouse standing tall against a storm. A compass rose on his left pec—right over his heart. Water still clings to his skin, beading on the lines of his muscles. His dark hair is loose, damp, falling past his shoulders. I swallow

JAX POV My phone buzzes in my pocket as I walk back toward the locker room. Then again. And again. I ignore it. I'm too busy replaying the last twenty minutes in my head. Mila's lips. Mila's hair. The way she said my name like it meant something. The phone buzzes seven more times. I finally pull it out and glance at the screen. MY BOYS ARE WICKED SMAHT KNOX YOOOOO FREEZE ARE YOU SERIOUS COFFEE TO THE FACE SULLIVAN Dear God. Our starting goalie is trending online for assaulting a fan with a Dunkin. KNOX Perfect arc to the throw btw The Sox probably gonna nab you from the NHL SULLIVAN Please don't encourage him, Knox KNOX RIP Jax's Dunkin. Gone but not forgotten. DMITRI The real question, friends, is who is the woman in the video? I stop walking. My blood goes cold. KNOX YO he replied just to shut that down Romy I think you're onto something I type back: I'm leaving the groupchat because I hate you all. KNOX Nah you love us really.

JAX POV "I'm not a fucking influencer." "I heard you the first three times." Mila's voice is cheerful, unbothered. She's sitting on a stool near the backdrop, her legs crossed, her notebook open on her lap. Today she's wearing a soft lavender blouse and heels the color of honey. Her dark curls are pulled back in that sleek ponytail, and she has a smear of something pink on her wrist. Lipstick, maybe. Or frosting. She was baking again this morning. "I mean it," I say. "This is ridiculous." "It's a photoshoot. You've done a hundred of them." "Not like this." The photographer is circling me, a tiny woman with sharp glasses and an even sharper bob. She's been barking instructions for twenty minutes. Chin up. Shoulders back. Look natural. Look intense. Look happy. Look happy. I don't do happy. "This campaign is about connecting with fans," Mila says, not looking up from her notes. "Smiling is part of connecting." "I connect just fine." "You yelled at a reporter last week." "H