“Me, obviously.”He smirks, sweat dripping down his temples.
The players around him laugh, and I flush, realizing too late I should’ve asked something less… obvious.Another guy mutters, “Rookie reporter,” under his breath, and the heat crawling up my neck nearly chokes me.
I grit my teeth and push on, determined not to let them see me flinch.
Then, like a storm cloud, Declan appears.
He heads over to his locker and sets his stuff inside.His back is to me, and I take a moment to study him without his eyes on me.
He slams his locker shut, and I start, looking away from him and asking another question.I’m barely paying attention, and I wince when I realize I missed the answer and can’t remember what my question was in the first place.
I look back at Declan, and my mouth goes dry.He’s leaning against the wall, arms folded over a chest that looks like it could stop traffic.His eyes lock onto mine, sharp and unreadable, and I suddenly forget every stat I studied.
I move closer to him almost subconsciously and lick my lips as I lean against the wall, trying to look at ease.
“You’re back again?I hope you have better questions,” he says, his voice low enough that it’s almost for me alone.
The sting is immediate.My pride bristles, but underneath the hurt is something worse.The spark.The one that started yesterday and hasn’t let me go.I want to hate him, but my body doesn’t seem to care.My pulse jumps just from the way he says the wordyou.
“I’m learning,” I shoot back, lifting my chin.“Everyone starts somewhere.”
One of the older reporters snickers.“Not everyone belongs here, sweetheart.”
Before I can come up with a response and fire back, Declan straightens from the wall.His expression darkens, and his glare cuts through the room like a blade.
“Don’t call her sweetheart,” he growls.
My mouth drops open.
The laughter in the room dies instantly.The reporter blinks, startled, then shrinks under the weight of Declan’s scowl.
My heart slams against my ribs as I realize he’s defending me.
He turns to me, seemingly checking to see if I’m okay.I stare at him blankly.Protectiveness flickers in his eyes, and the magnetic pull between us intensifies until my whole body feels like it’s going up in flames.
I want him.So badly.
Declan doesn’t say anything else, just pushes past me toward the door, like the whole moment meant nothing.But I can’t stop replaying it in my head.
How his jaw clenched.The way his shoulders squared, like he was daring anyone else to come at me.
It doesn’t make sense.How can he be such a jerk, but also be so sweet?Why did he defend me against that rude reporter when he was just as mean to me?
I stare at his retreating back until he disappears, then turn back to my notepad.I should be focusing on work.This is my chance to prove myself, to show that I belong in the big leagues, and I don’t want to waste it.
Still, my gaze strays to Declan’s locker.I stare at his jersey, replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours.Declan's actions shouldn’t make me want him more.He shouldn’t make me feel safe.But he does.
God help me, he does.
I can’t take this.
With a deep breath, I spin on my heel and take off after him.
I spot him in the hallway up ahead, and I rush in that direction.
“Declan!”I call, my heels clicking against the tile as I chase him down the tunnel.
My press badge swings against my chest, and my breath comes fast, half from nerves, half from how fast he’s moving.
