Page 15 of The Playmaker (The Legends of Fire #1)

AVERY

" Y oohoo!" Pen makes a face at me. "You are a million miles away…and I can guess where."

I grin, feeling sheepish as she holds up yet another chic little cocktail dress that lands somewhere between posh and "pick me" energy. I wrinkle my nose.

"That would show way too much cleavage for Restaurant Week."

"Exactly," she drawls out, pushing the dress into my not-so-eager arms. "You need to put yourself out there," a hand goes on her hip and I groan, knowing she's just getting started, "and I don't mean for you-know-who."

I have only told Pen that I'm lowkey attracted to Jax, but she suspects so much more. Clearly. And she is not a fan of the situation. I get it. All the players have reputations of being, well players. Off the field. On the road. In the hotels.

I swallow hard remembering my time with Jax in an actual hotel room.

The way his hands moved over my body like he was memorizing every curve.

The way his eyes locked with mine in moments of vulnerability neither of us expected.

But what we had was different…right? I'm certainly not one of those groupies just dying to land a football player .

"You're blushing," Pen observes dryly.

"It's hot in here," I say, gesturing around at the upscale boutique with its bright lights. "Fine. I'll try this on. But I won't buy anything that looks like I'm serving up what you find at a breastaurant ." I wink. Pen cackles.

"You have to find a new dress, too!" I call out as I whip the heavy curtain of one of the dressing rooms closed.

"Of course," she says breezily. "I can't have my bestie outshining the restaurant review queen…moi."

"Review queen? OMG, do not put that on your blog." I laugh as I pull on the dress.

I vaguely hear her oohing and aahing over something on the other side of the curtain as I manhandle the zipper and adjust the "girls" to try to reduce the insane amount of cleavage on display.

I feel a pang through my heart—unwanted, unwelcome.

Part of me wishes Jax could see me like this…

on a date…just the two of us. The cut of the dress is made for my body and shows off my full hips and small waist. I'm in the middle of posing like a fool when the curtain flies open and Pen stares at me, smirking with a load of dresses over her arm.

"Oooh, someone is feeling herself. I love it! That's the one. You have to buy it." She plops the dresses on the velveteen chair in the dressing room.

I look back at myself. If the V weren't so very low, I would buy it. But alas… "I am absolutely not advertising my double Ds. Thank you, no." I close the curtain and start putting my real clothes back on. "Show me what you have."

She takes the discarded dress and holds it up. "This is the one, Avery. Just get the front altered. I saw a sign—they do that here."

I brighten at the thought. "Maybe you're right. It's worth asking about." I grin at her and clap my hands. "Okay, I want a fashion show, Ms. Restaurant Review Queen."

She shoos me out, insisting she needs to make a grand entrance to best show off each garment. While she flounces out again and again, each dress looking even better than the last in her thin, willowy figure, my mind wanders.

To the West Coast football trip. To my web series assignment. To the inside look at Jax's past that I never got in that flight back to NYC. To…him. The coldness in his eyes on the plane that didn't match the heat I'd felt in his touch just days before.

"Oh, it looks so much better!" a woman's voice says as she and a teenager step up on the three-way mirrored podium.

She looks at a portly woman with a sewing tape around her shoulders and a pin cushion strapped to her wrist that looks like a porcupine attacked it.

"You did a beautiful job altering the dress. "

I smile at the excitement in the teen's young face. Then I look closer. Her features… they look almost… no. It can't be. I look away, not wanting to stare.

"Need some help in there?" I call out to Pen.

"No, no! I've got it. Just give me a sec," is her harried reply.

"It goes great with the necklace Jax got me, doesn't it, Mrs. M?" the teen squeals softly.

I jerk upright in my seat, cheeks flaming and ice flooding my veins at the same time, giving me the most unpleasant sensation.

Jax? As in, the Jax? As in…?

I sneak the least subtle peek back at the teen. Oh my God! She does look like Jax. It's the bone structure of her face! Who is this girl?

I stay absolutely still in my seat and pull out my phone so I can eavesdrop while looking extremely busy on my phone.

Please keep talking… please keep talking…

"Let me see the necklace with the dress again," the older woman says.

I hear the rustling of fabric and then the woman speaks again .

"Oh, definitely, Riley. He picked out the perfect piece for this dress."

The teen gushes, "And he didn't even know about the colors of my dress when he bought it!"

I have to do it. I can't not do it now, not after that big reveal. This teenager is Riley? Is this his daughter? His… what? I turn my head and stare. It's dumb and rude, but desperate times…

And this is a desperate measure. My God, she's a pretty young lady. So elegant and graceful in her movements. Thankfully, she and the woman are ignoring everything but each other.

"I guess you don't think he's the worst big brother in the world after all, do you?"

The teen rolls her eyes. "Okay, he still hasn't given me like any freedom, so I wouldn't go that far, Mrs. M."

The two laugh and tease while I all but have a hernia in my seat—I'm absolutely bursting with this news!

Jaxon Carter has a little sister named Riley! I did not see one word, not one, in my online research about him having a sister! How many more of them are out there? Maybe he has lots of sisters…lots of hidden siblings… Lots of secrets .

I keep my eyes on the blank screen on my phone, brain whirling. This is the scoop of my career, an expose above all exposes. And I'm just sitting here pretending life is normal, peachy, whoop-dee-doo.

Why?

Why am I not on my phone calling Ann? Why am I not begging Pen to force a conversation with Riley…? What is wrong with me? It's almost like…I can't. I can't because this is Jax. And this is his secret. One he has clearly guarded for years in the NFL. And part of me wants to guard it too.

Damn it.

"Someone looks constipated," Pen snarks as she walks out of the dressing room, a bright colored dress over her arm, the winning selection, it would seem.

I can't tell her. So, I just stand to my feet hazarding a glance at the retreating teen and older woman as they walk out of the store.

Riley.

She seems so sweet, so untarnished by the cruelty of the media and the world. I can't help myself—I adore her already. There's something so genuine about her. I feel my heart tug a little as she walks away.

I want to run after her, to hug her, to tell her that her brother is…I don't know. Either my biggest temptation or the best thing I've come across in a while.

"No," I mutter. "Jax is a jerk."

"Wow," Pen says, selecting a different size of bright dress off the rack. "That needs context."

"I was just thinking about how he did not give me the info I needed for my web series. You know, about his parents' deaths and R— um…everything." I literally almost said Riley. I'm losing it.

"Aw, honey, he's a powerful force in the NFL, so of course he's gonna have an ego to go with it! Maybe you just need to try a different approach next time?"

"Like what? Sit on his lap and dance?" I'm being sarcastic.

Pen laughs, then looks at me. "Oh. You're not trying to be funny.

" She faces me. "Look, I love you like a sister," that word makes my stomach flip after just seeing Riley, "but you might benefit from remembering that not every guy is like…

well, like your dad, honey. Some men stick around.

In fact—a lot of men do! I'm sorry he abandoned you. "

I can see the sincerity on her face and I sigh. "I guess I'm good at holding onto grudges, huh?" I try to chuckle.

Pen throws her arms around me, dress whacking me in the side. "We all are. It's part of being human. "

I'm more than ready to stop thinking about my dad, so I pretend to check out a bright pink dress.

Pen hums as she picks out a smaller sized dress. "Got it! Let's go check out and then you need to get yours altered… or not. I know if my bra size was as big as yours, I wouldn't be hiding those assets away." She giggles at herself and we walk to the counter.

Pen is a delight to be around, so it's not until that night when I'm home alone that I can process my feelings about what I discovered.

I pull up my online journaling app and pour my thoughts out on virtual paper, putting together the secret sister story I will never get the chance to write… or publish.

Why?

Because somewhere along the way I've gone soft in the heart for Jaxon Carter. Betraying his secret would feel like betraying myself.

I stare at my screen, at the words I've written, and realize what this means.

All my life, I've defined myself by exposing the truth about athletes like my father—men who abandon their responsibilities, who live for fame and glory while leaving broken hearts behind.

It's been my mission, my identity, my way of making sense of the pain my father caused.

But now I have the biggest story of my career in my hands—and I can't bring myself to write it. Because Jaxon isn't my father. He's not running away from responsibility; he's embracing it. He's protecting Riley, shielding her from the harsh spotlight that follows him everywhere.

I close my laptop and curl up on my couch, hugging a pillow to my chest. The realization is terrifying: I'm falling for him.

Not the bad boy image he projects to the world, but the man behind it—the brother who buys his sister necklaces that match her dress, who guards her privacy so fiercely he's created an entire persona to distract from her existence.

The man who, despite everything, might be worth trusting with my heart.