Offside-Limits Quarterback

I get sacked mid-game, wreck my shoulder, and suddenly I’m stuck with her.
Amber Reed, the too-cheerful team therapist who believes in “positive energy” and towel dividers on shared beds.

Yeah. Shared beds.

She talks too much. Smiles too wide. Looks at me like I’m salvageable.
I hate how much I want her to be right.

Then some photographer catches us post-gala looking a little too cozy.
The team spins it into PR gold.

Now we’re faking a relationship for the cameras.
Public hand-holding. Private restraint.

Except the line between fake and real is blurring fast.

I watch her laugh with my teammates, dream out loud, sleep curled up in my hoodie.
And somehow, this therapist becomes the only thing keeping me sane.

But someone’s gunning for her.
Slipping threats into her locker.

And if I can’t protect her.

I’ll lose the one person who ever saw through the armor. View Less