part0031

My knuckles rap against the sturdy wood door to Vince’s office as I make my presence known. He’s been in a million meetings this week, and every time I tried to meet with him, he seemed to disappear. As the days have dragged on, my patience has waned because I’ve been itching to talk to him about this Jack article.

I was naïve to think my feelings for Jack had been buried so deep that they wouldn’t resurface as soon as we spent time together. Even when we’ve been apart, our conversations are richer than ever. I actually forgot what it felt like to laugh as hard as he’s made me laugh the past couple of nights.

“Hey Vince, can I talk to you for a minute?”

He glances at me, his face lighting up. “Paige! Just the woman I wanted to see. How’re things going with our favorite football player?”

“Um, good. Listen Vince, I really think it would be better if I focused my efforts on another article idea. I have several already started—”

He cuts me off. “Wait, are you still trying to get out of writing the Fuller piece? I thought we handled this weeks ago.” He sits back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest and looking at me like I just grew three heads and am speaking a language he doesn’t understand.

“I told you I wasn’t sure I was the right fit.”

“Clearly you are, if Jack’s response to you tells us anything. I’ve heard several people talking about it. There’s a lot of buzz about you since that initial press conference. It’s clear you two have chemistry. Just use that to your advantage.”

He turns back to his computer like he’s ready to dismiss me.

“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying. I’m not the kind of reporter who gets…personal with her subjects.” I’m not even going to bother telling him that Jack and I have been on a date and are talking regularly. The less fuel he has the better.

He scoffs. “I don’t care what you do in your bedroom, Paige. I care about this story.”

“I’m not doing it,” I state.

He levels me with a hard glare, a similar look to the one he gave me last week when I was convinced he knew I was lying about Jack canceling our dinner plans. When he speaks, his tone is more menacing than I’ve ever heard from a boss before. “I will get this story, whether it’s from you or from someone else.”

His threat makes me pause. If someone else gets assigned to Jack, who knows what crap they could eventually dig up and throw out there. I mean, he hasn’t shared anything that I think is particularly newsworthy—frankly, his life has been pretty consumed with football since college—but I’ve known of reporters in the past who twisted facts to fit their narrative. It’s not a respected practice in the newspaper world, but it does happen. And it’s not something I’m willing to let happen to Jack.

“Why do you want this story so badly? It doesn’t even seem like something a paper as prestigious as the Chronicle would go after. It seems more like a TMZ story. You’re not asking for a Barbara Walters interview; you’re looking for an exposé. Why?”

“Don’t be so naïve, Paige. Print media is dying. We’re no longer competing with other newspapers or magazines; now we’re competing with the average Joe who can break a story on social media and have it be trending within an hour.

“We need a major story, an exclusive, and nothing sells faster than something seedy. I don’t care how I get it, but I will get a story on Jack Fuller. Our paper needs to be the one to finally get in front of everyone else instead of playing catch-up like we have been.”

Vince’s tenacity is infamous, but this is something else altogether. I can see in his eyes he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get a Jack Fuller exclusive. My need to protect Jack from being taken advantage of becomes overwhelming. I know without a doubt that if I don’t write this story, someone else will—someone with less than stellar intentions. At least if I write it, I can control the narrative. I can protect Jack from getting hurt like he did in college.

I nod at Vince. “Fine, I’ll write it.”

He sits back and examines me closely, and I fight against the urge to squirm.

He nods his head. “Glad to hear it.”

With that, I get up and walk out of his office. I’ll write an article, but it’s not going to be a personal exposé on Jack. I’ll find something that isn’t well known but won’t be completely tied to Jack. Something that’ll appease Vince without jeopardizing my new and delicate relationship.

I’ll figure this out. If I can’t, then I’m not the reporter I thought I was.

A giddy grin has been plastered on my face all day. The thought of finally getting to see him in person again makes my smile grow wider and shivers race down my arms. Talking to him every day has been absolute heaven. I guess I shouldn’t really be that surprised. We were best friends for a decade before we ever started dating. That connection has always gone deep.

The only downside of talking every day is that the sexual tension is through the roof. My battery-operated boyfriend has been getting quite the workout this week. Just hearing Jack’s voice sends tingles straight to my core and gets me so hot and bothered that I’ve stopped wearing underwear during our conversations because I just soak through them anyway.

I’m pulled from my sexual reverie when I notice the players rushing out onto the field, and the crowd goes wild with frantic cheering. I look to the field, searching for Jack. My gaze finds him almost instantly, and my body’s reaction to him is immediate and more powerful than ever. He’s so entirely male with his long, chiseled arms, broad chest, and lean frame. His dark brown hair accentuates his subtle tan, and I’m convinced he has to be the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

A whisper echoes in the back of my mind that I shouldn’t feel this strongly for him already after what we’ve been through, but I ignore it, choosing to listen to my heart instead of my head. The feelings he brings to life in me are ones I’ve been secretly longing for, and more than ever I don’t want to tip this delicate balance that I’ve found myself in. But I also don’t like keeping such a huge secret from him.

My greatest fear is voiced as a quiet plea in my head. If I thought he broke me when he left me before, I know for a fact he’ll thoroughly demolish my heart now.

I shove my fear aside, take a deep breath, and smile when I see him glance up at me. His face breaks into a dazzling grin that takes my breath away.

The game starts, and it quickly becomes clear who the winner will be. The Wolves get three touchdowns in the first quarter, leading their opponent 21-0. These are the worst games to watch—great for the fans who love a win, but so ridiculously boring. My favorite games are the nail-biters, the edge-of-your-seat ones where it comes down to the last minute.

By halftime, they’re ahead 35-6. Jack seems relaxed as he jogs off the field next to one of his wide receivers—Edmonson, according to the jersey. The seats around me clear as people get up to go get food from concessions. I stay in my seat, engrossed in checking news updates on my phone.

The thought of my article still circles my head, and I open my notes app to think of possible alternatives that I could write about—things that no one else has mentioned but aren’t a total invasion of his privacy. We’ve talked about so many different things during our late-night phone conversations, but most of it seems too personal to share with the world.

He’s talked a few times about his work with a local high school football team, which I think has a lot of potential because I could also spotlight a low-income high school and garner some extra support for their football program. Nothing else that we’ve talked about has quite grasped my attention or stood out to me as a decent possibility.

I close out of the app and look around at the people left in the stands. It’s fun to people watch when you’re at a football game. There are vastly different personalities that congregate in the stands, and it can be highly entertaining to watch all the different antics of the various spectators.

I notice an elderly couple sitting a few rows up and to my right that are laughing and so clearly in love with each other. The man leans in to whisper into his wife’s ear, and at her nod, he quickly takes off his jacket and wraps it around her. A soft smile of contentment graces her face while he fusses over her and makes sure she’s warm. My heart melts at the love that is so clear between them.

That could be Jack and me when we’re old.

Ok, Paige, settle down. Getting a little ahead of yourself there. You guys haven’t even talked about where this is heading yet.

A tap on my shoulder pulls me from my observation of the couple and my thoughts of the future. I turn to find Max, Jack’s assistant, squatting near my seat.

“Hey, you busy?”

I quickly glance out at the empty field then turn back to him. “Nope. What’s up?”

“Come with me. Someone is antsy to see you.”

He rolls his eyes at his statement and then stands, looking down at me. My smile is wide as I hurriedly get up to follow him.

We pass several deserted hallways past the employee entrance, when suddenly a hand comes out of the nearest dark hallway and grasps mine. Before I can even voice my shock and fear, I’m pulled into the hall and chiseled arms wrap around my waist. I can make out Jack’s smile in the dimness, and my racing heart begins to slow down.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” I scold him.

“I missed you. I thought we could make out in a deserted hallway like old times.”

His whispered words transport me straight back to high school. Will he always make me feel like this? God, I hope so.

He brushes my hair away from my face. “Did you miss me?” There’s the slightest hint of vulnerability in his gaze that keeps me from downplaying my feelings.

“You know I missed you,” I whisper.

Our eyes lock, and I’m desperate to feel his lips on mine again. All those nights with

B.O.B. clearly did nothing because now that I can actually touch him, my body is vibrating with a yearning that is nearly consuming.

I reach up to wrap my hands behind his neck as he leans down and takes my mouth in a passionate kiss. The second our lips make contact, it's like fire explodes throughout my body. Our tongues explore each other’s mouths while my hands grip his neck and his brush against my back, pulling me as close to him as he can with his pads in the way. His hands find their way to my ass, and he squeezes, letting out a groan that shoots another bolt of lust straight to my sex.

His mouth is hot against my neck, but I can hear his muttered words perfectly. “God, Paige. I want you so bad.”

It’s like a plea and a growl all at once. I’m pretty sure my heart has already soared out of my body from the desire lacing his words, and all I can do is mumble in agreement, my brain foggy with lust.

One of his hands slides up over my breast, and the moan that escapes my throat seems overly loud in this quiet hallway, but I can’t find the will to care. I just want him to touch me everywhere.

“Jack,” I plead, “I need you to touch me.”

He lets out another tortured groan and then kisses me deeper, his mouth making love to mine while his hand slides down to the button of my jeans.

He quickly gets the button undone and the zipper down, and then plunges his hand down my panties, slipping a finger inside my wet heat.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he says with awe in his voice.

“Don’t stop,” I beg. I’m not even embarrassed about my behavior at this point—my need is fully in the driver’s seat right now.

“Not a fucking chance,” he growls.

He adds a second finger to the first, and that, combined with the friction of his palm against my clit has me soaring with the most spectacular orgasm I’ve had in a very long time.

My sensitive body trembles as I come down from my release, and he slides his hand back out. If this is what he can do to me with just his hand, I can’t wait to see what he can do with the rest of his body.

His kiss turns soft and sweet. “Fuck, that was hot. I really need to get this thing under control,” he insinuates with a glance down to his pants.

I laugh. “A little uncomfortable?” I ask, referring to the fact that he’s wearing a cup which has very little give for his massive erection.

He huffs out a laugh. “Uh, yeah, just a bit.” He rests his forehead on mine. “But it was worth it.”

The sound of a throat being cleared, very loudly and obviously, interrupts us, and I try to quickly turn away so I can button my pants, but Jack angles himself so his body is blocking me from whoever’s there.

I glance over to see one of the players—it looks like Edmonson. “Sorry to interrupt, but Coach is looking for you, Jack. He wants to talk to you about putting Briggs in for the third quarter since we’re so far ahead.”

Jack takes a deep, steadying breath. “Yeah, okay. Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Sure thing.” Edmonson nods his head at me and then quickly walks away. As soon as he’s out of sight, Jack turns back to me. Desire and longing still burn furiously in his eyes.

It’s a heady feeling to see how much he craves me. It’s also incredibly arousing, despite the fact that I just had a glorious orgasm.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” I whisper.

“Me too. Just so we’re clear, we’re going to finish this later.”

I smile up at him. “Oh, I hope so.”

His eyes light with mirth, although the need is still there too. Suddenly, his expression

becomes serious, and his voice is soft as he says, “I’m not letting you go this time.”

He kisses me quickly and then walks backward toward the locker rooms. “I’ll see you after the game.”

He smirks at me, turns the corner, and disappears before I even get a chance to say something in response. I lean back against the wall, trying to brace myself after his promise. More than anything, I hope he’s right. I desperately hope he won’t let me go after I tell him about the article assignment.