Chiara.
Walking along the sideline with her tablet in hand, curly hair bouncing as she moves from player to player, checking notes and watching the drills.
She’s wearing a pair of short gym shorts that show way too much of her creamy thighs, a tank top low enough to show her ample cleavage,and now I think I’m actually drooling.She has a half-zipped hoodie on over it, likely because the AC is on full blast.
It’s nothing obviously sexy.
But the way she fills it out?Christ, I’m about to sport a half-chub.
My gorgeous little physio.
Professional as ever.
I’m about to walk to her when a group of guys from the other team blocks the way.
And then I hear it.
Some prick from the Twisters says something loud enough for half the field to hear.
“Oy, get a load of that one,” he says.
I glance over just in time to see him staring at Chiara.
“She’s a little fat, but I reckon I could bend her over and watch that arse jiggle when she’s taking all eight inches of me.”
He makes a crude gesture to go with it.
A few of the Rovers go still.
Tank’s head snaps up.
Koa mutters something under his breath.
But my attention is locked on Chiara.
Because she heard him.
I can see it in the way her shoulders tighten.
The way her cheeks flush pink.
The way she looks down at her tablet like she’s trying to pretend it didn’t happen.
Professional.
That’s my girl.
Trying to ignore it.
But she shouldn’t have to.
Not with me standing right here.
I drop the ball and walk straight toward the bastard.
No hesitation.
No second thoughts.
