For someone who wasn't interested in me, Jace Donovan had terrible timing.
The tension inside The Daily Grind was so thick it felt like trying to breathe underwater. Jace stood there like a massive wall of muscle and bad attitude, completely hijacking my afternoon.
Ethan slowly stood up from his chair, squaring his shoulders. He was tall, but Jace had that brutal, elite athlete bulk that made him look like he could check a man through a wall without breaking a sweat.
"Is that a joke, Donovan?" Ethan asked, his voice sharp and dripping with annoyance. "Since when does athletic compliance hold mandatory meetings on a Saturday night?"
"Since Coach Daniels decided our power play looked like garbage on Thursday," Jace said. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. The quiet, commanding
