The way she froze when we stood too close.
I didn’t touch her.
Not yet.
But I’ve been thinking about it.
Dreaming about it.
And the worst—or maybe best—part?
She’s thinking about it too.
Hell.
She said so.And I’ll be damned if I’m going to be a disappointment.
Which means I’ve got a plan.
The referee’s whistle cuts through the air as we huddle up.
“Alright, lads,” Tank says beside me.“Let’s smash these bastards.”
The pack roars its agreement.
But even as I crouch for the first play, one thought keeps circling through my head.
Tonight, after the game, there’s a little team party.
PR stunt.Sponsors.Drinks.Music.
And Chiara will be there.
This week she might’ve avoided me.
But tonight?
I’m not giving her the chance to slip away.
Because one way or another, I’m finally going to set the record straight.
And not just about the bedroom either.
I’m going to prove to one curvy little goddess that what I want from her goes a hell of a lot deeper than a tumble between the sheets.
This thing with Chiara… it’s gotten under my skin.Into my bones.
It’s not the usual crush.Not just lust or a passing bit of fun.
No.
With her?I want the whole bloody lot.
Her laugh.Her fire.Her stubborn refusal to fall for my nonsense.
I want mornings and arguments and victories and quiet nights.
And I’m done pretending otherwise.
