It should have been a simple play...
She needed a football player to step up and be the star for a charity calendar. I needed a sharp and savvy publicist to manage a brand-new sponsorship deal. I scratched her back. She scratched mine. And oh hell, did Jillian ever drag her nails down my back on one hell of a hot night. Okay fine, it was several hot nights on the road.
Now we're back in town and it's time to set the play clock back to when we were simply player and publicist. Given the way the last few years have gone, I can't risk this deal, so it's hands off for us once again. Trouble is, I want more than than just another night with her.
What's a guy to do when he's always been most likely to score, but the woman he's falling for is just out of bounds?
I don't date players. And I definitely don't sleep with players. And I absolutely don't fall for a certain player when I get to know him and learn he's more than just sexy -- he's clever, funny and has a heart as big as his . .. well, you get my drift.
But my job is at stake, and I can't afford to lose that as well as my heart. The problem is, I think I've already lost that game.
What's a girl to do when the clock is running out, but the man she's falling for is off limits?
This book may be unsuitable for people under 18 years of age due to its use of sexual content, drug and alcohol use, and/or violence.
If I could describe Jones and Jillian's relationship in two words, it'd be sizzling and adorable! Seriously, these two know great banter and fantastic flirting.
Since reading Most Valuable Playboy, I've been looking forward to Jones and Jillian's love story. It's obvious that Jones Beckett, the Renegades' wide receiver, has the hots for the team's amazing publicist Jillian Moore, but no one really takes him seriously on it, what with his penchant for sleeping and flirting with models and bombshells. Jillian definitely doesn't think too much of it.
Even if it was serious, nothing could really come of it, since Jillian was dedicated to her job and would do nothing to jeopardize her career and lose the respect of the team. Besides, they're going to work together to help rehabilitate his image, so Jones has to be on his best behavior. He needs to shed that playboy, wild-child image, and sleeping with his publicist would defeat the purpose.
Jones is like that charming guy in class who's popular, handsome, funny, and nice. Seems too good to be true, but people like him exist. He had a penchant for sleeping around, but he's not obnoxious, rude, or proud. He's an all-around guy—close to his family, still grounded, loves animals, good with the handy stuff heh—who's been interested in Jillian for a long time but didn't know what to do about it.
I admire Jillian's passion to her job, her relationship with her parents, and her self-control. Seriously, you guys. If someone like Jones threw himself (and his towel) at me the way he did to Jillian, I would have cracked. I also loved reading about her background, and about the things that have always been a part of her even if she grew up away from it. I won't mention too much about it since it might spoil you a little.
This book made me smile so much because first of all, it's a friends to lovers kind of story. Jones and Jillian got along, and they had fun together, even if Jillian was a bit closed off from him at first (to maintain the professional distance, of course). Second, it was adorable how much Jonas adored Jillian. Not just in a sexual way, too. And third, I loved how close they were to their respective families, how it drove them to do what they're doing
There are dogs and other adorable furry friends, half naked photoshoots, walks in the beach, and some hot tumble in the sheets—among other places *wink wink*—plus an easy and effortless banter between two likable characters. This book will make you laugh, squeal, and sigh like a lovesick fool, so if you want that wrapped up in a sports romance, you'll love Most Likely to Score.
Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Forbidden Romance, Sports—Football
POV: First Person, Second POV
“Love it,” Christine says emphatically, her lips and that metal hoop in the bottom one the only parts of her face visible since the lens covers the rest. “How about a little tough-guy look now?”
Because tough guys hold footballs in front of their junk.
“This is my best badass pose,” I say, narrowing my eyes and staring at the camera like I’d stare at the secondary of the Miami Mavericks.
“Oh yes, more of that, right, Jillian?” Christine shouts to the other person here in the studio with us.
That person is Jillian, and she hasn’t looked my way since I strolled in here and dropped my drawers. Damn shame.
From her spot leaning against the far wall, the team publicist answers in a crisp, professional tone I know well. “Exactly. We love his tough-guy face.”
She doesn’t even look up from her phone.
I keep working it for Christine, doing my best to make sure my blue eyes will melt whoever is looking at the picture when the magazine hits newsstands and Internet browsers in another few weeks.
It’s an evergreen kind of issue, since the body edition is one of the most popular. Gee, I wonder why. I’ve no doubt this shot of me with a football for my skivvies will quickly surpass the previous most-searched-for image of yours truly—the game-winning catch I made in the end zone in the Super Bowl two years ago.
But, to be fair, there’s another shot of me that’s searched for maybe a tiny bit more. I like to pretend that shot doesn’t exist.
“The camera loves you,” Christine croons as the snap, snap, snap of the lens keeps the rhythm.
“The feeling is entirely mutual,” I say, pursing my lips in an over-the-top kiss.
Christine laughs. “You are my favorite ham in all of sports, Jones. That’ll be a perfect outtake for our website.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Jillian chimes in. “Make sure to send me a copy for social, please.”
“Absolutely,” Christine answers.
I sneak a peek at the dark-haired woman by the wall, that silky curtain of sleekness framing her face as she smiles a bright, buoyant, outgoing grin at the photographer then drops her head back down.
Jillian Moore is one tough nut to crack.
I’m nearly naked in front of her, and she hasn’t once looked my way.
As the woman behind the lens shoots another photo with my favorite ball covering my favorite balls, Jillian doesn’t even spare another glance.
I’m going to need a whole new playbook to get this woman’s attention.
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