He’s just too damn pretty for me.
The man looks like he belongs on the cover of magazines.
And I absolutely do not.
Besides, how long before the chubby physical therapist gets boring?
Probably not long.
And if my pop taught me anything growing up in Jersey, it was one very crude and very old saying.
Don’t shit where you eat.
And I don’t plan to.
I came here for a job.
Consequence is my home now.
Working for the Carolina Rovers is what I do.
I’m not about to ruin all that for what would probably be a brief, disappointing fling.
Because let’s be honest—guys that good-looking usually don’t bother putting in the effort.
Geezus.
Why am I even thinking about that?
I do not care how Noah Walker is in bed.
Absolutely not.
“Are you sure, Love?”
Oh, fuck no.
Warning signals are going off in my brain, but I don’t look up.
Not yet.
“If you like, I could give you a demonstration.”
My head snaps up.
And there he is.
Standing in the doorway of the physio room.
Sweaty.Slightly bruised.Smirking.
Noah Walker.
Oh no.
No, no, no.
My stomach drops as realization hits.
