THE ONLY THING that saves my sanity in the shower is the thought of kicking Kelson's ass. He's smarter than he acts because I don't see him after I walk back into the main part of the locker room. Jordan's still in her private dressing room, so I head to Coach Mitchel's office. The trainer is discussing Jordan's injured shoulder when I arrive.

She wasn't quite truthful with me and I should be angry. But I'm not because I've given her flippant replies and said I'm okay many times when I'm not. That's what football players do. Jordan has a badly bruised shoulder and she'll be in physical therapy for a couple of weeks. It won't stop her from playing the first regular season game, though.

The trainer leaves and I fill Coach in on what happened and how Jordan ultimately was hurt.

He nods and then comes out of left field with, "You sleeping with her?"

Well, hell. "I think about it," I say to deflect the question. There is no way I'm telling him about my sex life with Jordan. There's no rule against fraternizing between players, though having women on teams may change that.

"You know football has had bad publicity for sexism. We knew when we first considered her for the position that our biggest problem would be how the guys treat her in the locker room. She insisted on being in there even when I objected. As a coach it isn't my job to interfere in a player's life unless it affects the game. You make damned good and sure the lady says yes before anything happens. This could go many ways in the media. You've been the golden child for three years now. I would hate to see your reputation ruined. I would also hate to see Jordan slaughtered more than she already is by the media."

"I hear you." Though I might not like what he just said. I would never force a woman. I don't see Jordan doing anything she didn't want to either. She's as stubborn as they come.

Coach gives me a long look. "Season ticket sales have increased twenty percent since putting Jordan on the roster. Number nine jersey sales have beaten all others, including yours. Hell, I don't know if she'll make it through the year but bringing her on board hasn't hurt the team."

My thoughts on having Jordan as a teammate have changed. Jordan deserves her shot. The shift in my thinking has been gradual. The grumbling about having her on the team has mostly died down and until Kelson's stupid stunt I thought the players were coming around.

"She's needed in the press room in ten. Let her know," Coach says as I'm leaving.

Of course she is. The press can't get enough of Jordan. I smile. It's actually a relief to put the press in her capable hands. I walk back toward the locker room and meet Jordan along the way. I grab her bag and refuse to argue. "You need more ice on that shoulder. Some ibuprofen would help too. Coach wants you at the press conference, so we'll stop there before heading out."

"Yes, daddy," she smarts back.

My dick twitches. "Don't say that, little girl, or I may need to put you over my knee."

She stops and looks at me, her lips are the perfect pouty turn-on. "Or maybe I'll put you over mine."

"You and what army?"

She laughs and we continue to the press room.

It's a zoo. Coach waves me up to the raised table to take a seat beside Jordan. Things quiet down and Coach speaks for a few minutes before turning the mic over to Jordan. She chooses Cloe Smythe to start the question portion of the conference.

"How was your first tackle pileup?" Cloe asks right off the bat.

I turn my chair slightly so I'm watching Jordan answer.

"Exhilarating. Relieved to have that hurdle over with and," she rubs her shoulder, "painful."

Laughter fills the room. Mike Goodwyn breaks in, "What makes you think you can handle playing when that was only a small taste of what's waiting for you in the real season?"

Jordan squeezes my leg beneath the table when my body jerks and I'm ready to butt in. She's right. I can't defend her in this situation. How does she face this type of attitude day in and day out?"

"You know, Mike-" She doesn't answer his question and I'm shocked when she challenges him directly. "From everything I hear in town, you're a well-respected sports journalist. It made me curious, so I found myself doing a bit of research about you."

"You're not answering my question," Mike interrupts again.

She ignores that and continues. "You played football as a kid, but you weren't good enough when it came to high school ball. That's nothing to be ashamed of. From what I could find, you tried quite a few sports and never stuck with one long enough to amount to a decent player." She holds up her hand when Mike tries to interrupt again. "It's okay, Mike. I can't play an instrument even though I tried. We are not all cut out to play football and very few players make it to the big leagues. It means you get to armchair quarterback and it's the closest you'll ever come to a group of three-hundred-pound men trying to take you down. If you ever want to come out on the field and see things from my perspective, you're invited. When players are coming at you, the last thing on your mind is what you can handle. I do what I'm paid to do, which is score." She drills him with her eyes. "I did a little extra homework on you, but we'll save that for another news conference."

Holy fuck she didn't just take him down, she threatened him with more of his background.

Jordan looks to another reporter and ignores Mike when he tries to break in again. From his expression, he's apoplectic and may stroke out on the spot. No one has ever called him on his shit for fear they will incur his wrath. Jordan doesn't care, and I find her attitude damn sexy.

She has great insight to the game and fields the next few questions like the pro she is. Things finally die down and I'm hoping we can leave, but then Mike decides to go after me. "As team captain do you see how low morale is hurting players and how are you combatting this situation in the locker room?"

He's obviously been talking to someone and my guess his initials are KM. "Morale is right where it should be," I reply. "We're working our asses off to have a breakout season and we're focused on the end game not the small talk about who belongs and who doesn't. If a player made it through training camp and cuts, it's because we need them." I give Jordan a quick look before concentrating on Mike. "If we all do our job, this town will have something to celebrate. It's a long season and just beginning. To pull out wins, we need everyone working together. That includes the support of the media."

"I call it like I see it," Mike says with no give whatsoever.

I don't hesitate when I say, "You keep doing that, Mike. The team will be grateful if you call it like you see it and treat us like the young up-and-coming team we are." I stand from the table and come close to taking Jordan's hand in mine but stop myself at the last second. Coach Mitchel and Jordan also stand. The press conference is over and Jordan waves pleasantly at the reporters as we leave the press room.

"Good job, Jordan," Coach Mitchel tells her once the door closes behind us. "You kids stay out of trouble and be sure to ice that shoulder." He walks off and leaves me and Jordan alone.

I lean against the wall. "You still up for dinner?"

She nervously runs the palms of her hands down the front of her jeans. "I hate to admit it but I need ice and ibuprofen."

"Come on." I peel myself from the wall and place my arm around her good shoulder.

She looks around. "What are you doing?"

"Everyone is gone. If not, we'll hear them before they see us. Let's get you to my place. We'll pick up something on the way and then I'll baby you tonight."

I'm surprised when she doesn't argue and instead pushes my buttons, "Oh, daddy. You make that sound so special."

I give her rib a small tickle. "Cut it out. Now you're just being weird."

"How many football players have you taken care of at your apartment?"

I stop and pull a few strands of hair behind her ear. She's doing her best to hide the pain in her eyes. "You'll be my first practice patient."

Her lips curve into a sexy smirk. "Doctor it is."