The morning commute is a bitch due to an eighteen-wheeler that overturned, effectively shutting down the Mass Pike. I barely make it on time, and guys stream in late all morning.

After an hour and a half of weightlifting, I head for the showers. Coach rolls his eyes when I remind him about the interview, but he waves me off to meet with the news crew.

Jeanine directs me toward the practice field, but the sight of Maddie McDermott in the vestibule of the stadium having a heated conversation with some guy stops me in my tracks. Their voices, although low, echo in the glass enclosure.

“Spencer, I haven’t prepped for this. I’m here to cover the wildlife preserve. Let’s just wait for Nicole to arrive.”

He stares her down. “She’s at least an hour away because of the accident. The team gets dozens of requests to do shit like this, and I’m not taking the chance they won’t reschedule. So get your ass in there and change.” He points to the bathroom across the enclosure and shoves a gym bag in her hand.

I can’t handle the tone he’s using with her and before I realize it, I’m beside her. “Is there a problem, Maddie?”

She presses her palm to her chest. “God, Daren. Stop sneaking up on me.”

Spencer looks from her to me and grins. “You two know each other?”

Before I can tell him we’re neighbors, Maddie interrupts. “We’ve met once or twice.”

I don’t miss the warning in her eyes to keep my mouth shut.

He tilts his head as though he’s trying to reconcile why I’m glaring at him since I apparently barely know Maddie, but then he shrugs. “Great. Whatever. Look, Madeline, we’re going to table the Save the Earth tearfest for another day, and you’re going to tape the sports segment.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m not a sports reporter, Spencer. I do news. Thus, the suit.”

She’s decked out in a form-fitting burgundy suit that instantly reminds me of all the reasons I’d love to get her between my sheets. I force my eyes up and try to stop thinking with my dick.

Maddie sighs and hands the gym bag back to the guy I’m assuming is her boss. “I’m not going to prance around on a football field in yoga pants and a tank top during an interview.” She blows out a breath. “I don’t even like football.”

I laugh, and they both look at me.

That’s something most people never admit to my face. She’s got balls, this one. I don’t know why, but her comment makes me want to mess with her a little. “Aww, come on, Maddie. Do the segment with me. I promise I’ll be gentle.” And then I give her a wink.

Her mouth falls open and her boss’s sleazy smile widens. He motions between us. “Perfect. See, this is going to be great.”

* * *

Spencer is getting impatient. I glance at my watch. If Maddie doesn’t hurry up, we might need to reschedule after all. I’m about to knock on the bathroom door when it opens.

When she steps out, her jaw is clenched, and she’s gripping a binder to her chest like it’s a life vest. After a second, she lowers it, a resigned expression in her eyes.

She’s tied her long, black hair up into a high ponytail, and she’s wearing a tight gray Rebels tank top and running pants. And fuck me if she doesn’t look edible.

That Spencer guy is on the phone, and when he sees her, his eyes take an indecently slow perusal down her body before he gives her a thumbs up.

She sighs and shakes her head, looking a little defeated.

“Hey, you look great,” I tell her, trying to cheer her up, and she growls.

“I hate you,” she says under her breath.

“It’ll pass. Then you’ll love me. I promise.”

She turns and glares. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

I grin and motion toward her. “You need to be careful. I always keep my promises.”

Maddie mumbles something I can’t quite make out as Jeanine stalks out of her office. “Spencer! We need to get this going. Daren has a whole day of training ahead of him.”

Five minutes later, we’re out on the field. A burly guy named Joe hands Maddie a mic before he trains the lens on us and does a quick countdown.

And even though Maddie looks pissed as hell, the minute the camera rolls, she pushes her shoulders back and smiles.

“Hi, this is Madeline McDermott with the newest member of the Rebels team, all-star quarterback and Heisman winner Daren Sloan.”

“Stop!” Spencer waves from off camera. “You know, Daren called you Maddie. I like that better. Let’s use it. ‘Maddie’ is much more approachable than ‘Madeline.’ Okay, Joe, let’s roll.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, lowering the mic. “Yes, my friends call me Maddie, but professionally I go by Madeline. I mean, it’s my name, and I would appreciate it if—”

Spencer’s face tightens. “This is non-negotiable, Maddie.”

She stills and drops her head.

Shit. I did this. I’m the one who called her Maddie. I open my mouth to apologize when she says, “Fine, Spencer. You’re the boss.”

She motions for Joe and starts her intro again.

“Hi, I’m Maddie McDermott…”

I tune out and watch as her whole disposition in front of the camera changes. Her eyes are sparkly and smiling. Her demeanor is confident and poised. Her voice even has a musical quality to it.

Fuck, Sloan. A musical quality? Really?

“Daren, I don’t watch a lot of football, so I guess I’m the perfect candidate for this segment.” She turns to look me in the eye. “Now, you promised to be gentle with me, and I’m going to hold you to your promise.” She laughs and I laugh with her. Damn, she’s charming. “What’s the first thing someone like me needs to know about the sport? Let’s assume I understand the big picture—the football needs to get to the end zone. And I think we all know you’re the quarterback and control the ball. Where do we go from there?”

“Well, we start at the line of scrimmage, and I have four possessions to get to the first down, which is ten yards, and I can either pass or run, but once I run, I can only throw the ball laterally, to my side or behind me.”

“That sounds easy enough. And I think everybody in New England knows you like going deep”—I raise an eyebrow, dying to crack a joke at the double entendre I’m sure she didn’t intend—“that you like long passes, and you’re good at making them. Which brings me to my next question. What do you think makes a good quarterback?”

“Being able to see the plays before the route clears. Having a sense for your guys and being so connected with them that you know where they’re headed before they do.”

Her expression is flirty. Big, luminous eyes peer up at me through thick lashes. “Sounds like a good bromance.”

Laughing, I agree. “And I have all the moves.”

She gives me a cheeky grin. “I bet you do.” After a few more questions, she turns to the camera. “We hope to see more of Daren’s moves in two weeks at the first preseason game against New York. I’m Maddie McDermott for WNEN. Back to you in the studio.”

I’m not entirely sure what I expect her reaction to be when we’re done, but it’s not this. Her smile instantly fades, her shoulders tense, and that breezy demeanor vanishes beneath a furrowed brow.

“Thanks, Daren.” She holds out her hand to shake mine.

Seriously? She wants to shake my hand? What happened to the Maddie who just flirted her ass off with me? Slowly, I extend my arm and grip her slender hand in mine.

But despite her less than friendly vibe, it’s hard to miss the fire behind her eyes. It’s a look I recognize every day before I get on the field. Fuck, she wears it well.

Before I can say anything, she takes off for the parking lot, at which point I can’t help but stare at her ass, which is just as glorious as I imagined. One I’d love to spank.