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His coach’s daughter is off-limits…
The first time I met Preston Parker I slammed face first into his wet, chiseled abs. In the men’s locker room, of all places.
As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, Mr. MVP gave me one of his killer smirks, right before dropping his towel in front of me. Just to prove a point. That no woman can resist him. Not even me.
Now, he keeps finding ways to see me, touch me. And I find myself wanting to break my dad’s rules about his players. Rules I never break for a reason. Because falling for a player like Parker… was never part of the plan.
