Fighter's Heart

Scene 16

Lena

Watching Jase interact with the twenty or so children in his class shouldn't get to me, but it does. They clearly adore him, and he's heart-wrenchingly patient with them, not concerned about repeating instructions a second—or even third—time. The older boys vie for his approval, while the two teenage girls both have hearts in their eyes. I don't blame them. Seeing him in action is softening my heart in a way I can't afford. It seems that Jase Rawlins is one of the decent guys. After exchanging a few words with the man who runs the center and assuring him of my good intentions, I snap photographs of Jase with the kids, making sure not to capture their faces because I promised him I'd keep their identities private.

Jase holds pads for a tiny girl who can't be more than four, and beams at her in encouragement when she hits them. Snap. That's the money shot. All I can see of the girl is a dark ponytail, but it's Jase's expression that really sells it. Zooming in on his face, I take another, and something melts deep inside me. He's making this so easy. If only he'd told me everything up front, we could have skipped a day or two of being at odds with each other. But I suppose I can understand why he clammed up. What reason did he have to trust me? Especially when I'd made my opinion of him clear from the get-go.

I'm on his side now though, and this story is writing itself in my head. I take my phone into the ladies' restroom and call one of my contacts at Sports Daily, a magazine-style website.

"Hi, Aiden," I say when he picks up.

"Hey, Lee. What's going on?"

"I need a favor, but it'll be worth your while."

He laughs, the sound rich and deep. Girls go nuts over Aiden, and I get the attraction, but I've never seen him that way myself. "Anything that comes from the golden girl of sports PR is going to be worth my while. What are we talking about here?"

"I want a premium feature. Not for tomorrow, but perhaps the next day. As soon as you can fit me in."

He whistles, and I hear him shuffling papers in the background. "Which bad boy are we going to be spotlighting?"

I love the way he assumes I've got the goods, but not his assumption that it's a bad boy. I know I've become the girl with the magic touch as far as spoiled players go, but there are other things I'd much rather be known as.

"Jase Rawlins," I tell him.

"Oh, nice." The cogs are whirring in his brain. He knows anything with Jase will be controversial right now, and controversy sells. "Keep talking."

"I'm working on a piece. It isn't finished yet, but I can have it to you tomorrow. It comes with man candy action shots, and the real winner—one of him coaching disadvantaged kids."

Aiden thinks for a moment. "I like it. Get it to me by twelve tomorrow, and the spot is yours. Provided, of course, that you come up with the publicity gold I think you will."

"Have I ever let you down, Aids?"

"Don't get cocky, Lee, there's a first time for everything."

"Kisses, bye." I hang up before he has a chance to ask me on a date, as he invariably does. He's a nice guy, but he just doesn't do it for me. And honestly, I don't think I'm his type either, which is probably why he persists in asking. He knows I'll always say no.

Heading back to the main room, I pocket my phone and claim a chair in the corner, far enough away from anyone else that no one talks to me. I grab my notebook and start bullet-pointing ideas for the article. Every now and then, I glance up to check the action, and to get my fill of Jase. A smile is permanently stamped on his face, and he's glistening with a sheen of sweat. I can't get enough of the way his muscles move as he demonstrates kicks, punches, and rolls. They're bulging and lean and fucking glorious.