Game On: A Sports Romance Series Book 1: Touchdown Temptation
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Mia Carmichael
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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 thereâs one thing Alessia Sterling has learned from growing up in the NFL, itâs that love and loyalty donât mix with locker rooms.
They say football is a religion down here in the Southâfull 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 âa scandal,â but they never mentioned the truthâhow humiliation tastes when itâs served on a national stage. How fast people forget your name when youâre 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 doesnât 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 herâŚ
âŚher next mistake.
***
The Nashville Vipersâ training facility smelled like sweat, testosterone, and bad decisions. In other words, exactly how Alessia Sterling remembered it.
She hadnât 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 didnât need to look up to know he was watching her the second she walked in. He always didâat games, at fundraisers, even once at her fatherâs post-season dinner, where heâd winked at her from across the table like he had any idea what to do with a woman who wasnât chasing his jersey.
âYou know,â Jace drawled from behind her, his voice low and lazy, âIâd recognize that strut anywhere.â
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 beâlike the world wasnât 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.
âDonovan,â she said coolly.
âYou came all this way just for me? Iâm flattered.â
She held up her tablet. âYou punched a country singer, called a referee a âwhiny little diva with a god complex,â and flipped off a fan. I didnât come for you. I came for the disaster you left in your wake.â
His grin widened. âSo this is business, not pleasure. Got it.â
âPlease donât mistake me for someone who ever found you pleasurable.â
âOuch.â
She turned on her heel, heels echoing sharply as she walked past him. âLetâs make one thing clear. I donât flirt, I donât fawn, and I donât care how many touchdowns youâve thrown. Youâre a PR nightmare, and Iâm here to fix it. Period.â
Jace followed, hands in his pockets, all amused arrogance. âGood. I donât do crisis managers with superiority complexes. Weâll get along great.â
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.
âGlad youâre both here,â he said. âThis thing with Donovan is spiraling. Sponsors are pissed. Mediaâs circling.â
Alessia didnât need the briefing. Sheâd read the headlines. Sheâd written them, practically, with the way his name trended every other week for something idiotic.
âI want you handling this personally,â her father added.
Jace looked far too pleased with that news. âGuess that means weâll be spending some quality time together after all.â
Alessia didnât miss a beat. âPerfect. Weâll start by reviewing the long list of reasons youâre currently one bad quote away from being benched.â
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 didnât need notes for this meetingâthe 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. âJace, this is going to be your official crisis manager for as long as it takes to clean this up.â
âYou make it sound like I rolled a bus full of nuns,â Jace muttered.
âNo,â Alessia said sharply, eyes flicking up from her screen. âYou just hit the PR trifecta: violence, arrogance, and a complete lack of self-awareness. Itâs honestly impressive.â
Coach sighed. âAlessia, play nice.â
âI am playing nice,â she replied, tapping a few notes into her tablet. âIf I werenât, Iâd be posting his mugshot on Instagram with a link to a GoFundMe for his emotional maturity.â
Jace let out a low laugh. âYouâve got jokes, Sterling.â
She looked up at him, her voice smooth but deadly. âIâm not joking. Youâre hanging by a thread. The leagueâs 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 âreckless hot guy with anger issues.ââ
He blinked. âYou think Iâm hot?â
âI think youâre reckless,â she shot back.
Coach pinched the bridge of his nose. âIâm leaving before I witness a homicide.â
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. âLook, I get it. Iâve made mistakes.â
She raised an eyebrow. âMistakes? Thatâs how youâre categorizing calling a ref a âfame-hungry hobbitâ on live TV?â
His grin returned. âOkay, that one was funny.â
âYouâre exhausting.â
âYou havenât even started working with me yet.â
Alessia took a slow breath. Focus. She wasnât here to spar with him. She was here to protect the team, protect the brandâand maybe, in some twisted way, protect her fatherâs legacy.
She pulled up the plan sheâd drafted before coming to the Vipersâ HQ. âHereâs how this is going to go. First, youâre going to apologizeâsincerely. No smirking, no jokes, no half-assed sarcasm. Public statement. Clear, concise, and humble.â
He snorted. âI donât do humble.â
âYou do now.â
âDidnât realize I signed over my personality.â
âYou didnât. You signed over the part of it that gets you in trouble.â
He leaned back again, jaw working slightly. For a moment, he didnât speak. And when he finally did, there was something quieter in his voice. âYou think youâve got me all figured out, donât you?â
Alessia met his gaze evenly. âI donât need to. Iâve handled athletes like you a hundred times. Talented, hotheaded, always used to being forgiven because you can throw a football.â
Something flickered in his expression. âYeah? And what exactly do you think youâre protecting me from?â
âYourself,â she said simply, standing. âYou 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 fatherâs reputation. My companyâs credibility. And letâs not forget the media, who are just dying for you to give them another reason to light you up.â
She paced slowly to the window, watching as a few players moved across the practice field below. She recognized them. Faces sheâd seen as a childâyounger then, fresh-faced. Football had always been part of her life. But it had never felt as heavy as it did now.
Behind her, Jaceâs voice was quiet. âYou used to love this game.â
She turned, surprised. âWhat?â
âIâve seen you before, at games. Years ago. You were always in the stands, yelling louder than the fans.â
Her jaw tightened. âThat was a long time ago.â
âWhat happened?â
Her eyes met his, sharp and unflinching. âNone of your business.â
He nodded, but there was something in his expression now. Not pity, not arrogance. JustâŚcuriosity. Maybe even regret.
Alessia collected herself quickly. âWeâre doing a charity event next Fridayâyouth football clinic, cameras will be there. Youâll smile, youâll coach, and youâll keep your mouth shut unless I approve the quote.â
âBabysitting me already?â he asked with a grin.
âBelieve me,â she said, walking to the door, âif I were babysitting, Iâd at least get paid extra to deal with this level of ego.â
She opened the door, pausing in the doorway to glance back at him. âAnd Donovan?â
âYeah?â
âNext time you try to flirt with me, try not to make it so obvious. Itâs embarrassing.â
She walked out, leaving Jace still seated, staring after her with a look he didnât wear often.
Like maybe, just maybeâŚ
Heâd finally met his match.
