But I don’t date players. It’s my father’s Golden Rule: Stay away from his team. Even if it wasn’t for the golden rule, James is the other kind of player, too. You know that kind of player. Hot, cocky, always looking for his next lay.
Too bad for James, I’m not interested in getting to know football’s ultimate player any better.
The question is, what’s a girl to do when the only way out from under the crushing weight of expectation is to break a few rules in the process?