“Never do,” he said with a wink.

Leo Hernandez was a too-sexy-for-his-own-good running back, and a certified pain in my ass. It wasn’t that he was bad on camera — quite the contrary, actually. It was his extracurricular activities off the field that kept me busy. The boy wouldn’t know how to say no to a gorgeous blonde and a late night out, even if there was an NFL contract and a five-million-dollar signing bonus in the mix.

When I turned back to Clay, it was just in time to watch him as he brushed past me on his way to the locker room.

I scampered to catch up with him. “Uh, actually, the media is all lined up over there,” I said, pointing to the other edge of the stadium.

“Don’t care.”

I stopped at the words, at how cold they were, shivering a bit and watching the muscles of his back ebb and flow before I shook my head and skipped to catch up to him again.

“It won’t be long, just a quick five-minute interview.”

“No.”

I chuckled. “Look, I get it. First day of camp is tough. It’s hot out here, you’ve got Coach watching, I—”

“No, you don’t get it,” he said, whipping around until I slammed right into his sweaty chest. He didn’t attempt to catch me as I bounced back, but I righted myself, adjusting my glasses to look him in the eyes as he continued. “You’re not a player. You’re not part of the team. You’re a part of the media. And I don’t want to fucking talk to you, or them, or anyone right now.”

Hurt flashed through me as he turned, but it only lingered a moment before I blew out a breath and let the pain go with it.

This was part of my job, dealing with athletic babies and their mood swings.

I got this.

I cleared my throat as I caught up to him. “Well, I’m sorry you’re having an off day, but unfortunately, this is part of your role as an athlete at North Boston University. So, you can either do this very short interview, or explain to Coach why you couldn’t be bothered to.”

That made him stop, and I watched his fists curl at his sides before he turned around, veins popping in his neck. He cracked said neck and then stormed right past me, on his way to the media line.

I smiled in victory.

At least, until I followed him to the perfectly nice female reporter from ESPN and watched in horror as he made an ass of himself, the team, and more importantly?

Me.

“Clay, after that bowl game last season that had us on the edge of our seat, we’ve all got big expectations for NBU football. How are you feeling about the season?”