He was trouble with a capital Bam. Ego bigger than Sharks’ stadium, and he owned every moment of it.
She was the PR woman the boss hired to sort out my ass. I didn’t need help, I was only in that bar fight to defend my sister. What’s wrong with that?
You could say we don’t get along. We butt heads from the start.
Can we fight our growing attraction to each other before it causes even more trouble?
**This is an interconnected stand alone, enemies to lovers, gridiron romance with an HEA.**
A version of this book was previously published as Tackled, by Lizzi Stone.
