Chapter 23: Rules Were Made to Be Broken
740 Words
(Jaxon's POV – He hates being told what he can and can't do—especially when it comes to Lillian.)
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I don't take orders well.
Never have, never will.
Coaches, teammates, even the damn league—they all know that when you tell me I can't do something, it only makes me want to do it more.
And now, they're telling me I can't have Lillian.
That I can't be seen with her.
That she's off-limits.
It pisses me off more than I can put into words.
Not just because it's another example of the league trying to control every aspect of my life, but because I saw the way she looked at me when she said, We can't do this.
Like she was breaking her own damn heart.
Like she didn't want to say it—but had no choice.
That's what gets me.
Lillian doesn't follow rules just because someone tells her to. She's tough, confident, and stubborn as hell. She doesn't back down from a challenge.
So if she's pulling away, it's because they left her no choice.
And that?
That makes me want to burn this whole damn thing down.
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The Fire Inside Me
Rehab sucks today.
I'm going through the motions, but my head isn't in it.
My knee aches from the last round of exercises, but I barely feel it over the frustration building in my chest.
Lillian's here, of course—watching, tracking my progress, keeping her distance.
She doesn't touch me unless she absolutely has to.
Doesn't let her gaze linger on me the way it used to.
Doesn't even joke around with me like she did when I first started this recovery process.
It's driving me insane.
I push through another set of leg presses, gritting my teeth. The weight is heavier than it should be, but I don't care. I need the distraction.
"Jaxon, you're overdoing it," Lillian says from behind me, her voice clipped.
I ignore her and push harder.
"Jaxon."
This time, her voice is sharp. A warning.
I slam the weight back into place and sit up, breathing heavily. "What?"
She folds her arms. "If you push too hard, you'll set yourself back."
I grab a towel and wipe the sweat from my face. "I'm fine."
She doesn't move. Just stands there, watching me like she's trying to figure out what's going on inside my head.
Finally, she exhales. "This isn't about your knee, is it?"
I don't answer.
She shakes her head. "Jaxon..."
I toss the towel aside. "You think it's fair?"
She blinks, caught off guard. "What?"
I stand, my muscles burning from the workout. "That they get to tell us what we can and can't do. That they get to decide who we're allowed to be around, like we're a bunch of damn kids."
Her expression tightens. "It's not about fair. It's about professionalism. About not jeopardizing our careers."
I scoff. "Bullshit."
Her eyes flash with irritation. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." I step closer, lowering my voice. "You're telling me this has nothing to do with the fact that you actually care about me?"
Her jaw clenches, and for a second, I think she's going to deny it.
But she doesn't.
Instead, she steps back, creating more space between us. "It doesn't matter how I feel."
"That's a lie."
She swallows, her gaze darting away. "Jaxon, please."
The way she says it—soft, almost pleading—makes my chest tighten.
I shake my head. "I don't care what they say, Lillian. I don't care what rules they throw at us. I'm not walking away from this."
Her eyes snap back to mine, something flickering in them. "You don't have a choice."
I step even closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. "There's always a choice."
She inhales sharply, like she's about to say something—maybe argue, maybe agree—but before she can, the door to the rehab room swings open.
"Monroe, let's go."
I turn to see one of the team's media reps standing there, looking irritated. "Press is waiting."
I grit my teeth. "For what?"
"Your mandatory interview." His tone makes it clear that skipping isn't an option. "Now."
I exhale slowly, my frustration simmering beneath the surface.
Lillian is still watching me, her expression unreadable.
I glance at her one last time before turning and walking out.
But this isn't over.
Not by a long shot.
- Writer
