Football is my life, and coaching in the NFL is my dream. I have a doctorate in sports psychology, but the fact that I’m a woman means I couldn’t possibly know a thing about football, let alone coaching a team. At least, that’s what my critics say. Others argue a woman on the sidelines would be a distraction.
Distraction. Pfft. I’m a professional, and I certainly don’t fall for players.
When I land my dream job coaching the Boston Rebels, I realize just how difficult it will be to maintain a hands-off approach to the team. Everything about them, from their broad shoulders and thick biceps to their chiseled abs and narrow waists, makes it so I’m the one who’s having trouble staying focused.
As if that weren’t bad enough, I’m attracted to not one, but three, players. Three offensive players who keep breaking through my defenses.
I’m their coach, but absolutely nothing in my playbook prepared me for this. My head seems to understand they’re completely off-limits, but my heart is pulling a reverse play.