I’m not the kind of girl people expect a football fan to be.
With my kitten sweaters and glasses, I look more like a librarian than a social media manager.
But managing Dakota “Sexiest Quarterback Alive” North?
Maybe I should have spent less time on kittens and more on studying self control.
Keeping his big mouth off the internet is one thing.
But now all his attention is on me.
And that mouth of his . . . well, talking isn’t the only thing it's good for.
I just have to get through the week, and my real life can begin. One week managing Dak 24/7. Just 168 hours of his relentless flirting and me pretending I’m not secretly in love with him.
I don’t need a tweet’s worth of characters to sum it up:
This player has broken through my defensive line.
We have nothing in common.
The way he looks at me, talks to me, is incredibly inappropriate.
So why hasn’t my body gotten the message?
It’s time for my head to talk to my heart—and other parts—to ask...
What is more important—losing my virginity to a bad boy quarterback or keeping my job?