CHAPTER 3 JOLENE

My hands are shaking as I pull into the parking lot at the Complex.

This is ridiculous.

I've never been nervous to interview someone before except maybe the last time I interviewed Lincoln Nash.

But we kissed two nights ago, and two things are true:

I haven't seen him since.

And I haven't stopped thinking about him.

I got a call from Jack's secretary arranging press interviews for an upcoming charity event, so here I am. I know the major details from the press packet, but I'll grab a few sound bites with Dave's help so I can produce a feature on it. I spot the VG03 news van in the parking lot, so I know he's already here setting up.

It'll be helpful to have a smiling face in the room with me, but Dave doesn't quite know the extent of my history with Linc.

Nobody does. Well, except Sam. And whoever Lincoln told, which I'd assume is exactly nobody.

All Dave knows is that there was tension between us the last time I interviewed him, and maybe that's why I'm nervous about doing it again.

Or maybe I'm nervous I won't be able to look anywhere else except his lips as I recall what it felt like when they were moving over mine, that hard body pressed against me as I gave into what's always been there between us even though we both firmly planted it in the past.

I guess it's not planted as firmly in the past as I was hoping.

When I walk into the building, Lily is standing in the lobby. She hands me a sheet of paper with my interview itinerary then directs me to the conference rooms on the right rather than to the media room on the left.

I head into the one with VG03 marked on a sign on the door, and I find Dave ready to go. I set my bag with my laptop on the table and clip on the mic pack, and then I look over the itinerary.

I'll have this room for the next hour, and in that time, I'll be interviewing six people. I read through their roles on the team and for this charity event.

Jack Dalton, current Aces team owner and event chairperson of the first annual Wild Aces Charity Ball.

Luke Dalton, former Aces player, current coach's consultant, brother of the owner, and honorary chairperson for the event.

Erin McMahon, director of charitable contributions for the Aces and fundraising chairperson for the event.

Travis Woods, current starting wide receiver and honorary chairperson for the event.

Ben Olson, former starting tight end and entertainment chairperson for the event.

Last on my list is Lincoln Nash, current head coach and another honorary chairperson for the event.

It'll be a ten-minute round robin to ask whatever questions I want to ask regarding the charity event, and I'll have to keep it on topic with such short windows. I'll need a variety of different things from each person so I can create several feature stories over the next couple months to get buzz going as we get closer to the event.

I'm ready.

The first interview with Jack goes well, as do the next four. Everyone is friendly and excited as we discuss various aspects of the event. Three former players and a current player all well-loved by the Aces fanbase make for incredibly interesting interviews, and my only wish is that I had more than ten minutes with each of them.

Ben Olson in particular. I've never had the pleasure of interviewing him, and he's hilarious with his stories of antics from his playing days. I find myself laughing with him and wishing we had more time.

But we don't, and as he walks out of the conference room, Lincoln Nash walks in.

He looks…uncomfortable.

Sexy as hell, of course, as if there was ever any question about that, but he definitely looks stiff—as if he wants to be anywhere but here.

It's just making me even more nervous.

"Coach Nash, how lovely to see you again," I say, doing my best to be friendly even though the tension in here is palpable.

He nods without returning the greeting.

"Tell us about your role in the charity ball," I say.

He clears his throat. "I've been tasked as an honorary chairperson, so I will be promoting the event and raising awareness for the Aces Foundation."

"Can you tell me a little about what the Aces Foundation does?" I ask.

He looks annoyed, as if I'm quizzing him on his new team, and maybe I am a little.

"Our mission statement is to empower our future leaders and work toward bettering the community through youth development and education. We support a variety of charities here in Las Vegas, including youth football programs and scholarships."

My eyes flick to his lips as he speaks. The memory of his hands on my body flashes through my mind, and I'm finding it difficult to focus on what I'm asking him next.

I suck in a shaky breath.

"And, um…" I clear my throat and look at my notes as I finally remember what I'm doing here. "How will you support these community endeavors in your new position as head coach?"

"I will always encourage my players to get involved and give back. We're very fortunate to play a game we all love, and we want to share that love with this community that has always been so supportive to us. We're hopeful we can continue making a difference."

It's a generic answer, but I'm not sure what I was expecting.

Maybe being able to break down those walls a little. Something to try to let the viewers see the side of Lincoln Nash I saw last night just for a glimmer of a second before it was gone again.

Our time is too short. Ten minutes passes in a flash, and he thanks me before he stands to pull off his mic pack.

"Can I, uh…can I talk to you for a moment before you go?" I ask him. I glance over at Dave. "Alone?" I pull off my own mic pack, too, to clearly indicate that this will be off the record, and I click off the power before setting it on the table.

Dave gives me a sideways glance before he exits the room. I'm sure he'll have questions, but I need Lincoln to know what happened two nights ago.

"What?" he says once the door clicks shut behind Dave.

"Another reporter at VG-oh-three, Ryan Rivera, wants my job," I blurt.

He folds his arms across his chest and quirks an eyebrow. "And this affects me…how, exactly?"

"He was standing outside the Complex when I left Sunday night. He got pictures of us…" I lower my voice to a whisper. "Kissing."

"Fuck." He closes his eyes for a beat.

"He threatened to turn them into my boss."

"Do you think he'll post them anywhere?" he asks, unfolding his arms and placing his palms on the table in front of us.

I shrug. "I don't know, but I think he likes having something over me for now."

He presses his lips together and nods. "I knew it was a fucking mistake," he mutters. "God dammit."

And with those words, he shatters my heart all over again as he walks out of the room.