**MILA'S POV**
I've spent the last twenty-four hours replaying that moment at the pool table.
*Sunshine.*
It's a sarcastic nickname. Definitely meant to irritate me. So why does my stomach flip every time I think about the way he said it? Low. Rough. Almost gentle.
I need to stop this.
Tonight is the Bay Blades' first game since the iced coffee incident. My first game attending as Jax's "supervisor." The title alone makes me want to laugh. Nothing about what's happening between us is supervisory.
I arrive early, wearing my most professional blouse—powder blue, crisp lines—and matching heels. My notebook is clutched in my hand like a shield. The security guard recognizes me now, waves me through without checking my ID.
The players' lounge is different than I remember from agency meet
