Page 18 of (La)Crosse My Heart (Sweet Sports Kisses #7)

Jessa

I got some great shots of the guys today and the interview with the little ones melted my heart.

The biggest surprise was that Clark didn't shy away from the camera when I was recording him.

Once I get home, I find a few pictures to add to the social platforms and then settle in for a bubble bath. After staying up so late, it feels nice to relax and not have anything pressing for a few hours.

I get out and dry off, putting on my pajamas so I can veg the rest of the night.

There's a knock on the front door and while I still jump a bit from the sudden noise, at least I know it's mostly safe in this neighborhood.

"Hey Clark. Come in."

He'd been so cute with the kids today. And while I should guard my heart, it’s pretty hard to keep anything intact after seeing how cute he was, especially when explaining the little things. He's so dynamic and excited about the sport that the kids absolutely loved it.

"I just wanted to check in and see how things were with you. Thank you for those posters. I can't imagine all you had to do to make them look like that. And the kids thought it was the greatest."

"I was talking to Coach Martin last night and came up with the idea. I'm glad it worked out."

"Do you need anything?" Clark asks, and I glance around.

"I don't think so. What about you? Is there anything you need from me?"

He grins and shakes his head. "No. I don't think so."

"You did amazing on that one question interview I gave you today." I reach out and pat his bicep but realize too late that that was a bad idea. A terrible idea. The guy is strong, and I don't need any help to sway my feelings to him right now.

He laughs, lifting his hand to rub his neck. When he looks at me, his face is flushed. "Well, I had to follow the example of that one little boy you interviewed."

"He was pretty great, huh?"

Clark nods and turns to look at the TV screen. I'd paused it when he knocked on the door.

"Are you watching the detective show?"

"Yes, I love it. Well, I already told you about it." Why is the panic rising inside me?

"Do you mind if I cash in that rain check?" he asks.

I’m stunned that he’s actually wanting to learn more about something I like. Is this just another trauma I have from Dan’s lack of interest in anything I cared about?

"Absolutely. I make no promises that I'll be awake by the end of it though."

He laughs and nods. "I get that. I might fall asleep, too. It was a long day."

We take a seat on the couch, and I throw him a small blanket from the basket next to it. It's nice having my stuff here, even if the place isn't completely decorated yet. I might as well secure my position for SMG before I get too settled.

The couch is a lot smaller than I thought it was before, but that's what happens when it's holding more than just me.

We're basically right next to each other, and my skin is burning. In a good way, I guess? I'm not sure right now. My brain is all muddled.

"Are you good?" Clark asks, sitting so close I'm constantly glancing down at his lips. They look very kissable right now.

"Yep," I say, my voice squeaking. What is my problem? I’m closer to thirty than twenty. I shouldn’t be freaking out like this. "Do you need, uh, a drink or something?"

He has a somber look on his face, like he's trying to decide something, and then he says, "No, I think I'm good for now."

Why does it feel like my nervous system has rioted and now I'm not sure how to react? This has never happened before, even with Dan.

Am I spending too much time with Clark?

I focus on the TV, trying to mentally recite all the lines, but I’m highly aware of Clark next to me. How in the blazes do I get myself into these situations?

Okay, this isn't a common occurrence, so I can't even complain.

"What you did for the kids today, it was something special," Clark says, his words silky like milk chocolate.

"Thanks. You did most of the work."

“Who figured out when we were supposed to be there? That we’d have to come up with a game plan? That was all you.”

I nod, still feeling unsettled about something. As much as I love working with Clark, do I love the stress of the unknown on a daily basis?

He uses his elbow to nudge me. “What’s wrong? You look like you swallowed a sweet pickle.”

I then exaggerate my expression because there isn’t a lot worse than a sweet pickle. It’s got to defy the law of the taste buds, but in a bad way.

"I don't know. It's hard to figure out my place now, you know?"

He turns to look at me more clearly. "What do you mean?"

"Is this the best career for me? I don’t know if I’ll even last here longer than a month."

"Did you not get an offer?" he asks. "I know little about business, but I know contracts. Do you have a contract you signed with the Stockton Group?"

I nod, remembering what I signed. I'd been so excited for any chance to leave my past behind that I didn't go over it with a fine-toothed comb like I typically do.

"Well, look at that and see. Maybe you have the option to stay but in another capacity."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my brain reeling as I'm trying to figure that out.

"Well, is reforming athletes the thing you're most passionate about?"

"I don't think a job has to always be about passion."

Clark bites his bottom lip as he looks at me, as if he's trying to figure out how to steer the conversation.

"You don't have to eat, sleep, and drink the job you're part of, but you want it to be sustainable and has you excited to do it every day. And if this isn't what you want to do, then build what you want while you have this job."

He's speaking facts and I have to remember it's okay to try different things. Which is hard when I've had it so ingrained in my brain to stay the course and finish out everything to the very end. But like my last job and boyfriend, that didn't serve me well.

"So, the question I have for you is what do you see yourself doing in five years?"

I thought I knew. I thought this was the locked-in career for me because I had success a few times.

But as I walked around with my camera at the park, getting interviews and working on things for the social media platforms, that was exciting and fun to me.

Putting together the poster took longer than I wanted but it filled a creative well I haven't been able to tap into for a long time. Probably since high school.

"Is it weird I love taking pictures and highlighting the players?" I ask, holding my breath for his answer.

He shakes his head. "Why would that be weird? You did an incredible job on the posters. The editing you did was great. I’m sure the it wasn't easy to get it to look like our uniforms."

"But what if I get sick of that, too? What if I switch and it's not everything I want it to be?"

"Then move onto the next thing. Life isn't supposed to be boring and endured. You're supposed to love it, or at least big chunks of it."

I let out a long breath, trying to let his words sink in. There’s so much I need to work on in life, but am I willing to take the leap and try something else, even though I was sure coming out here to work with the athletes would be worth it?

"Just promise me one thing," Clark says, looking at me seriously.

"Yeah, whatever you need."

"Just don't stop until I get through these endorsements."

I laugh and nod. "Absolutely."

"I actually emailed them to see if you could come with me when we have to re-film the spots from before."

Raising my eyebrows, I say, "You want me to come with you?"

His expression melts my insides. "Yeah, I think I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you were there behind the camera."

I nod, trying not to read into that too much. "I think I can make that work."

We go back to watching the movie in silence, the tension between us comfortable.

I sigh, feeling like he'd helped me unpack a few of the burdens I'd been carrying around. I’m falling for Clark and fast. But is it just because he’s the complete opposite of Dan? Or because I haven’t given him credit for being an exceptional human before?

That’s going to have to be tested before anything happens.