Game On: A Sports Romance Series Book 1: Touchdown Temptation
Author
Mia Carmichael
Reads
15.5K
Chapters
55
Alessia is known for fixing the kind of messes no one else can handle, and she does it with style, sharp wit, and zero patience for nonsense. So when she is assigned to manage Jace, a headline-making quarterback with a talent for trouble, she treats it like just another job. Except Jace is not just a problem to solve. He is charming, relentless, and far too interested in getting under her skin. Alessia would rather keep things strictly professional, but the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to ignore the spark between them. Between press appearances, clever comebacks, and lingering looks, their carefully controlled game begins to shift into something neither of them planned.
Chapter 1: Quarterback Containment Protocol
Prologue
If there’s one thing Alessia Sterling has learned from growing up in the NFL, it’s that love and loyalty don’t mix with locker rooms.
They say football is a religion down here in the South—full of rituals, worship, and men who think God wears a headset on game day. But for her, football was family. Sunday night dinners with post-game stats, bedtime stories laced with Hail Marys and comeback drives, and a father whose idea of affection was a nod after a win.
She used to think it was magic.
Until she fell for one of them.
Until she learned what happens when her heart is just another thing a player thinks he can throw away.
The headlines called it ”a scandal,” but they never mentioned the truth—how humiliation tastes when it’s served on a national stage. How fast people forget your name when you’re not the one in pads. How the man who swore you were his everything replaced you with a bottle blonde and a six-figure sponsorship deal.
So no, she doesn’t do athletes anymore.
She fixes them. She manages their reputations, sweeps their messes under billion-dollar rugs, and walks away before their apologies turn into promises. She keeps her heels sharp, her standards higher, and her heart locked tighter than a playbook before the Super Bowl.
And then came Jace Donovan.
The headline-making, camera-loving, bad boy quarterback with a smirk like sin and trouble tattooed across his grin.
Her newest client.
Her worst nightmare.
And, God help her…
…her next mistake.
***
The Nashville Vipers’ training facility smelled like sweat, testosterone, and bad decisions. In other words, exactly how Alessia Sterling remembered it.
She hadn’t set foot in this building in over two years, not since she swore off everything involving cleats, contracts, and men who thought a six-figure endorsement deal made them gods. But here she was. Back in the belly of the beast, stilettos clicking across polished concrete, hair pulled into a sleek knot that meant business, not nostalgia.
She was here to clean up a mess.
And it had a name: Jace Donovan.
She didn’t need to look up to know he was watching her the second she walked in. He always did—at games, at fundraisers, even once at her father’s post-season dinner, where he’d winked at her from across the table like he had any idea what to do with a woman who wasn’t chasing his jersey.
“You know,” Jace drawled from behind her, his voice low and lazy, “I’d recognize that strut anywhere.”
Alessia closed her eyes for half a second. Breathe. Then she turned, slowly, already irritated.
He was leaning against the wall like he had nowhere better to be—like the world wasn’t two seconds from canceling him again. Black Vipers shirt stretched across his chest, dark hair damp from a workout, and that signature smirk aimed directly at her.
“Donovan,” she said coolly.
“You came all this way just for me? I’m flattered.”
She held up her tablet. “You punched a country singer, called a referee a ‘whiny little diva with a god complex,’ and flipped off a fan. I didn’t come for you. I came for the disaster you left in your wake.”
His grin widened. “So this is business, not pleasure. Got it.”
“Please don’t mistake me for someone who ever found you pleasurable.”
“Ouch.”
She turned on her heel, heels echoing sharply as she walked past him. “Let’s make one thing clear. I don’t flirt, I don’t fawn, and I don’t care how many touchdowns you’ve thrown. You’re a PR nightmare, and I’m here to fix it. Period.”
Jace followed, hands in his pockets, all amused arrogance. “Good. I don’t do crisis managers with superiority complexes. We’ll get along great.”
Coach Sterling, her father, appeared just then, his expression as unreadable as ever. Alessia gave him a tight smile. He nodded back, ignoring the tension hanging in the air like smoke.
“Glad you’re both here,” he said. “This thing with Donovan is spiraling. Sponsors are pissed. Media’s circling.”
Alessia didn’t need the briefing. She’d read the headlines. She’d written them, practically, with the way his name trended every other week for something idiotic.
“I want you handling this personally,” her father added.
Jace looked far too pleased with that news. “Guess that means we’ll be spending some quality time together after all.”
Alessia didn’t miss a beat. “Perfect. We’ll start by reviewing the long list of reasons you’re currently one bad quote away from being benched.”
She swept past him again, her tablet already pulled up to the latest scandal.
Behind her, Jace just laughed.
God help her. It was going to be a long season.
***
The conference room was glass-walled and pristine, perched on the second floor overlooking the indoor practice field. Alessia walked in first, every inch of her posture tight and commanding. Her tablet rested against her hip like a shield. She didn’t need notes for this meeting—the mess that was Jace Donovan was already committed to memory.
Jace sauntered in behind her like he had all the time in the world, his gait casual, his smirk still in place. He dropped into the chair across from her and propped one ankle on his knee, arms spread wide along the back of the seat like he owned the damn building.
Coach Sterling stayed by the door and cleared his throat. “Jace, this is going to be your official crisis manager for as long as it takes to clean this up.”
“You make it sound like I rolled a bus full of nuns,” Jace muttered.
“No,” Alessia said sharply, eyes flicking up from her screen. “You just hit the PR trifecta: violence, arrogance, and a complete lack of self-awareness. It’s honestly impressive.”
Coach sighed. “Alessia, play nice.”
“I am playing nice,” she replied, tapping a few notes into her tablet. “If I weren’t, I’d be posting his mugshot on Instagram with a link to a GoFundMe for his emotional maturity.”
Jace let out a low laugh. “You’ve got jokes, Sterling.”
She looked up at him, her voice smooth but deadly. “I’m not joking. You’re hanging by a thread. The league’s watching. The sponsors are restless. Your contract renewal depends on you becoming less of a headline and more of a brand. And right now? Your brand is ‘reckless hot guy with anger issues.’”
He blinked. “You think I’m hot?”
“I think you’re reckless,” she shot back.
Coach pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m leaving before I witness a homicide.”
He stepped out, leaving the two of them alone in the room with nothing but tension and a glass wall between them and the rest of the facility.
Jace leaned forward, elbows on the table now, more serious than she expected. “Look, I get it. I’ve made mistakes.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Mistakes? That’s how you’re categorizing calling a ref a ‘fame-hungry hobbit’ on live TV?”
His grin returned. “Okay, that one was funny.”
“You’re exhausting.”
“You haven’t even started working with me yet.”
Alessia took a slow breath. Focus. She wasn’t here to spar with him. She was here to protect the team, protect the brand—and maybe, in some twisted way, protect her father’s legacy.
She pulled up the plan she’d drafted before coming to the Vipers’ HQ. “Here’s how this is going to go. First, you’re going to apologize—sincerely. No smirking, no jokes, no half-assed sarcasm. Public statement. Clear, concise, and humble.”
He snorted. “I don’t do humble.”
“You do now.”
“Didn’t realize I signed over my personality.”
“You didn’t. You signed over the part of it that gets you in trouble.”
He leaned back again, jaw working slightly. For a moment, he didn’t speak. And when he finally did, there was something quieter in his voice. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”
Alessia met his gaze evenly. “I don’t need to. I’ve handled athletes like you a hundred times. Talented, hotheaded, always used to being forgiven because you can throw a football.”
Something flickered in his expression. “Yeah? And what exactly do you think you’re protecting me from?”
“Yourself,” she said simply, standing. “You might not care if you implode your career, but there are rookies on this team who look up to you. Fans who show up in your jersey. My father’s reputation. My company’s credibility. And let’s not forget the media, who are just dying for you to give them another reason to light you up.”
She paced slowly to the window, watching as a few players moved across the practice field below. She recognized them. Faces she’d seen as a child—younger then, fresh-faced. Football had always been part of her life. But it had never felt as heavy as it did now.
Behind her, Jace’s voice was quiet. “You used to love this game.”
She turned, surprised. “What?”
“I’ve seen you before, at games. Years ago. You were always in the stands, yelling louder than the fans.”
Her jaw tightened. “That was a long time ago.”
“What happened?”
Her eyes met his, sharp and unflinching. “None of your business.”
He nodded, but there was something in his expression now. Not pity, not arrogance. Just…curiosity. Maybe even regret.
Alessia collected herself quickly. “We’re doing a charity event next Friday—youth football clinic, cameras will be there. You’ll smile, you’ll coach, and you’ll keep your mouth shut unless I approve the quote.”
“Babysitting me already?” he asked with a grin.
“Believe me,” she said, walking to the door, “if I were babysitting, I’d at least get paid extra to deal with this level of ego.”
She opened the door, pausing in the doorway to glance back at him. “And Donovan?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time you try to flirt with me, try not to make it so obvious. It’s embarrassing.”
She walked out, leaving Jace still seated, staring after her with a look he didn’t wear often.
Like maybe, just maybe…
He’d finally met his match.
