Blitzed by Love

Chapter 1 Zephyr Kane adjusted her press credentials for the third time in as many minutes, her fingers betraying the nerves she refused to acknowledge. The Seattle Tempests' locker room buzzed with post-game energy, reporters clustered around star players like moths to flame. But there was only one flame she was interested in, and he was notably absent from the celebration. "Looking for someone?" The voice behind her was smooth bourbon over gravel, and Zephyr's spine straightened instinctively. She turned to find herself face-to-face with six-foot-four of lean muscle wrapped in a towel that hung dangerously low on narrow hips. Kai "Storm" Blackwood stood close enough that she could see the golden flecks in his dark green eyes, close enough to catch the scent of soap and something uniquely male that made her pulse quicken. "Mr. Blackwood." She proud herself on keeping her voice steady. "Congratulations on the win. That fourth-quarter comeback was impressive." "Just impressive?" His mouth quirked into what might charitably be called a smirk. "I threw for four hundred yards and three touchdowns. Most reporters would call that spectacular." "Most reporters haven't watched you throw for five hundred yards." Zephyr tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "I've seen what spectacular looks like from you. Tonight was just... adequate." The locker room seemed to quiet around them, though Zephyr suspected that was more about the way Kai stepped closer, his presence suddenly filling her entire field of vision. "Adequate." He repeated the word like he was tasting something bitter. "You know, most people try to butter me up before asking for an interview." "I'm not most people." "No," his eyes traveled slowly down her body and back up, making her skin tingle with awareness. "You're definitely not." Heat bloomed in Zephyr's cheeks, but she held her ground. She'd worked too hard to get this assignment to let her inconvenient attraction to the Tempests' quarterback derail her focus. Kai Blackwood might be the most talented player in the league, but he was also infamous for his rotating door of blonde socialites and his complete disdain for the media. "So, Ms...?" "Kane. Zephyr Kane, Sports Central Magazine." "Zephyr." He rolled her name around like he was testing how it felt. "Unusual name." "Says the man who goes by Storm." "Touché." This time his smile was genuine, transforming his face from merely handsome to absolutely devastating. "What do you want to know, Zephyr Kane?" Everything, her traitorous mind whispered. She wanted to know why his teammates called him the loneliest man in football despite being surrounded by people. She wanted to know about the shadows that sometimes flickered behind his cocky exterior. She wanted to know if his hands were as skilled off the field as they were on it. "Your contract is up at the end of the season," she said instead, slipping into professional mode. "There are rumors you're considering retirement at twenty-nine. Care to comment?" The shutters came down so fast she almost missed it. One moment he was looking at her with amused interest, the next his expression had gone carefully blank. "No comment." He turned away, but Zephyr caught his arm. The moment her fingers made contact with his skin, electricity shot through her entire system. Based on the way Kai's muscles tensed under her touch, he felt it too. "I'm not going away," she said quietly. "Sports Central assigned me to cover you for the rest of the season. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but either way, we're going to be seeing a lot of each other." Kai stared down at her hand on his arm for a long moment before his gaze lifted to hers. "Is that a threat, Ms. Kane?" "It's a promise, Mr. Blackwood." Something shifted in his expression, a spark of what might have been respect mixing with the wariness. "Fair enough. But if you want access, you play by my rules." "Which are?" "No personal questions about my family or relationships. No ambush interviews. And if I say we're done, we're done." Zephyr considered this. It wasn't ideal, but it was more than any other reporter had gotten from him in months. "Deal. But I have one condition of my own." "You're not exactly in a position to make demands." "I want exclusive access. No other reporters during our arranged interview times." Kai studied her for a long moment, and Zephyr had the unsettling feeling he was seeing more than she wanted to reveal. Finally, he nodded. "Exclusive access it is." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Zephyr Kane." As he walked away, that towel still riding sinfully low, Zephyr couldn't shake the feeling that she was about to find out. Chapter 2 The Tempests' practice facility was a temple to athletic perfection, all gleaming surfaces and state-of-the-art equipment. Zephyr arrived early, wanting to observe Kai in his natural element before their first official interview. She found him alone in the film room, studying game footage with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "You're early," he said without looking away from the screen. "So are you. Don't you have practice in an hour?" "Can't improve if you don't put in the work." He finally turned to face her, and Zephyr's breath caught. In jeans and a simple black t-shirt that molded to his chest, he looked less like an untouchable superstar and more like a man she might actually have a conversation with. "That's very philosophical for someone who's naturally gifted." "Natural gift only gets you so far." Kai's expression grew serious. "Everything else is blood, sweat, and obsession." There was something in his voice that made Zephyr set down her recorder and really look at him. "Sounds lonely." "Football is a team sport." "I wasn't talking about football." Their eyes met and held for a moment that stretched longer than it should have. Zephyr felt that same electric pull from the locker room, stronger now in the intimate space of the darkened film room. "You said no personal questions," she reminded him, though her voice had gone softer. "Did I?" Kai's mouth curved slightly. "Must have slipped my mind." He moved closer, and Zephyr's awareness narrowed to the sound of his breathing, the way the light from the film projector cast shadows across his jaw. When he reached past her to grab a water bottle from the table, his arm brushed hers, and she felt the contact like a brand. "Tell me about last night's game," she managed, proud that her voice remained steady. "That fourth-quarter drive. You were down by fourteen with three minutes left." "You really did watch." He seemed surprised by this. "It's my job." "No, most reporters just watch highlights and box scores. You watched the whole game. You saw the missed block on third and seven that should have ended our drive." Zephyr nodded. "Rodriguez missed his assignment. But you adjusted, rolled right instead of left. Found your tight end in the flat." "Darian," Kai supplied. "He's been working on his route running all season. Deserved that touchdown." There was genuine affection in his voice when he talked about his teammate, and Zephyr filed that away. Kai Blackwood might project an image of arrogant indifference, but he cared deeply about the people around him. "Is that what drives you? Taking care of your team?" Kai's eyes sharpened. "Careful, Ms. Kane. That sounds dangerously close to a personal question." "Everything about football is personal to you, isn't it?" Before he could answer, the door burst open and several teammates spilled in, their easy camaraderie filling the space. Zephyr watched Kai's face transform as he greeted them, becoming the confident leader they expected him to be. But she'd seen the man underneath now, if only for a moment. "Storm, you ready to get your ass kicked in practice?" called out Marcus Webb, the team's veteran linebacker. "In your dreams, old man," Kai shot back, but his smile was warm. "Gentlemen, meet Zephyr Kane. She's documenting my inevitable decline for Sports Central." "Smart woman," Marcus grinned. "I can tell you some stories about this pretty boy." "All lies," Kai protested, but he was laughing. The sound did dangerous things to Zephyr's equilibrium. She spent the next hour watching Kai work, marveling at the way he commanded respect without demanding it. On the field, he was poetry in motion, his throws precise and powerful. But it was the quiet moments that captivated her – the way he helped a struggling rookie with his footwork, the intense focus as he studied defensive formations, the flash of pure joy when a play worked perfectly. By the time practice ended, Zephyr was in serious trouble. The last thing she needed was to develop feelings for her subject, especially one with Kai's reputation. But as she watched him joke with teammates while ice wrapped around his shoulder, she couldn't shake the feeling that Storm Blackwood was nothing like what the world believed him to be. "Ready for round two?" Kai appeared beside her, having somehow approached without her noticing. "Round two?" "Our actual interview. Unless watching me sweat for two hours was enough material for your article." Heat bloomed in Zephyr's cheeks at the way he said it, low and slightly teasing. "I think I can handle a little more." "Good." His smile was pure trouble. "Because I'm just getting started." Chapter 3 Kai's penthouse apartment overlooked Elliott Bay, all floor-to-ceiling windows and expensive minimalism. It was exactly what Zephyr had expected from Seattle's most eligible bachelor, except for the wall of books in the living room and the framed photos of what looked like a Little League team. "Surprised?" Kai asked, noticing her attention on the photos. "Should I be?" "Most people expect empty beer bottles and half-naked women." "Do you often have half-naked women in your apartment, Mr. Blackwood?" Something flickered in his expression. "Not as often as the tabloids would have you believe." He gestured for her to sit on the leather couch while he poured them both coffee from an expensive-looking machine. Zephyr tried not to notice the way his t-shirt pulled across his shoulders or how his hands moved with the same precision he showed on the football field. "So," she said, setting up her recorder, "tell me about those retirement rumors." "Straight to the point. I like that." Kai settled beside her, close enough that she could catch his scent – clean and masculine with a hint of something that made her want to lean closer. "What makes you think I'm considering retirement?" "Your contract situation, for one. Most players in your position would have signed an extension by now. Plus, there are whispers that you've been meeting with business managers, looking at investment opportunities." "You've done your homework." "It's called journalism." Kai laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Fair enough. Yes, I've been exploring other options. Football can't last forever." "You're only twenty-nine. You could play for another decade." "Could I?" His expression grew serious. "How many hits to the head before I can't remember my own name? How many knee surgeries before I can't walk up stairs? Football takes everything from you, Zephyr. Eventually, you have to decide if what you're getting back is worth it." The honesty in his voice caught her off guard. This wasn't the cocky superstar the media portrayed, but a man genuinely wrestling with difficult questions about his future. "What would you do? If you retired?" "I have some ideas." He nodded toward the Little League photo. "I've been working with youth programs around the city. Kids who need someone to believe in them." "Like you did?" Kai's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I thought we agreed no personal questions about family." "This isn't about family. It's about motivation. What drives Storm Blackwood?" "You think giving me the full name treatment is going to make me more likely to open up?" "Is it working?" "Maybe." He studied her face with an intensity that made her skin tingle. "You're not what I expected, Zephyr Kane." "What did you expect?" "Someone trying to tear me down. Find the scandal, expose the flaws. Make a name for herself by destroying mine." "Is that what other reporters have tried to do?" "Every single one." The quiet admission hung between them, and Zephyr felt something shift in her chest. She'd come here planning to uncover the real Kai Blackwood, but she hadn't expected him to be so... human. "I'm not here to destroy you," she said softly. "No?" He leaned slightly closer, and Zephyr's pulse quickened. "Then what are you here for?" "The truth." "The truth." He repeated the words like they left a bitter taste. "What if the truth isn't what your readers want to hear?" "Then that's their problem." Something changed in Kai's expression, the wariness giving way to something that looked almost like hope. "You really mean that." "I really do." They stared at each other for a moment that seemed to stretch indefinitely. Zephyr was acutely aware of how close they were sitting, of the way Kai's gaze kept dropping to her mouth. The professional distance she'd been carefully maintaining began to crumble under the weight of attraction that seemed to pull at her from every direction. "This is dangerous," Kai said quietly. "What is?" "This. You. The way you're looking at me." "How am I looking at you?" "Like you actually see me." His hand lifted to trace the line of her jaw, his touch gentle but electric. "Not the quarterback, not the celebrity. Me." Zephyr's breath caught as he leaned closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, count the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. "Kai..." "Tell me to stop," he whispered against her lips. She should. Every professional instinct she possessed screamed that this was a mistake. But as his mouth brushed hers, soft and questioning, all those warnings dissolved into sensation. The kiss started gentle, almost tentative, but when Zephyr's lips parted on a soft sigh, Kai deepened it with a hunger that made her toes curl. His hands tangled in her hair as she pressed closer, her palms flat against his chest where she could feel his heartbeat racing. When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Kai rested his forehead against hers. "That was definitely a mistake," he said. "Definitely," Zephyr agreed, even as her body hummed with want. "We should probably talk about boundaries." "Probably." Neither of them moved to create distance. "Zephyr?" "Yeah?" "I'm going to kiss you again." "That's really not—" But her protest died as his mouth found hers again, hungrier this time, more demanding. Zephyr melted into him, her hands fisting in his shirt as he kissed her like she was everything he'd been searching for. When her phone rang, they sprang apart like guilty teenagers. Zephyr stared at the device like it was a foreign object before finally answering. "Kane." "Zephyr, it's Marcus." Her editor's voice was sharp with excitement. "I need you to get back to the office. Now." "What's wrong?" "Someone just leaked photos of Kai Blackwood with Victor Castellanos." Zephyr's blood turned to ice. Victor Castellanos was currently under federal investigation for match-fixing and illegal gambling. Any association with him could end Kai's career. She looked up to find Kai watching her, his expression shifting from confused to concerned to carefully blank as he read whatever was on her face. "I'll be right there," she said, ending the call. "Bad news?" Kai asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer. "Kai, I need to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth. Have you ever met with Victor Castellanos?" The way his face shuttered told her everything she needed to know. "I can explain—" "Not to me." Zephyr was already gathering her things, her hands shaking slightly. "Save it for the lawyers you're going to need." "Zephyr, wait—" But she was already gone, leaving behind the scent of her perfume and the wreckage of whatever had been building between them. Chapter 4 The Sports Central offices buzzed with the electric energy that came with a breaking story. Zephyr's colleagues shot her speculative glances as she made her way to Marcus Webb's corner office, their expressions ranging from sympathy to barely concealed envy. Everyone knew she'd been assigned to cover Kai Blackwood. Now they all wanted to know if she'd seen this scandal coming. "Close the door," Marcus said without looking up from his computer. "And please tell me you have something we can use." Zephyr settled into the chair across from his desk, her stomach churning. "What exactly are we dealing with?" "Photos of your boyfriend having lunch with Castellanos last week. Very cozy, very suspicious. The FBI has already issued a statement saying they're looking into possible connections between Castellanos and current NFL players." "He's not my boyfriend," Zephyr said automatically. Marcus finally looked at her, his expression shrewd. "But something is going on between you two." It wasn't a question, and Zephyr saw no point in lying. Marcus had been her editor for three years; he could read her better than most people. "It's complicated." "Uncomplicate it. Fast. Because right now, you're the reporter with the most access to the biggest story in sports. Unless..." "Unless what?" "Unless you're too close to be objective." The words hit like a slap. Zephyr had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to have her professionalism questioned now. "I can handle this." "Can you? Because if Blackwood is mixed up in match-fixing, and you knew about it..." "I didn't know about anything," Zephyr said sharply. "And we don't even know what those photos mean yet." "We know enough. I want a full exposé ready by tomorrow night. Everything you've learned about Blackwood, everything you can dig up about his connection to Castellanos. This could be the story that makes your career, Zephyr." As Zephyr left Marcus's office, she couldn't shake the feeling that it might also be the story that destroyed her soul. She spent the rest of the day trying to focus on research, but her mind kept drifting to the way Kai had kissed her, the vulnerability she'd glimpsed beneath his public persona. By evening, she gave up pretending to work and drove to the practice facility, hoping to catch him before he left. She found him in the parking garage, sitting in his car with his head in his hands. He looked up as she approached, and the exhaustion in his expression made her chest ache. "Come to get a quote for your article?" His voice was flat, defeated. "Come to get the truth." "The truth." Kai laughed bitterly. "The truth is that I'm an idiot who made a mistake that's going to cost me everything." "Tell me what happened." For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. Then he sighed and leaned back against his seat. "Victor is my half-brother." Whatever Zephyr had expected, it wasn't that. "What?" "Same father, different mothers. My dad wasn't exactly the faithful type." Kai's mouth twisted. "Victor reached out a few months ago, said he wanted to get to know his brother. I was stupid enough to believe him." "The lunch meeting..." "He claimed he was going straight, wanted to make amends. Said he had information about some business opportunities that were completely legitimate." Kai's hands clenched on the steering wheel. "I should have known better. Victor never does anything that doesn't benefit Victor." "What kind of information?" "Investment opportunities. Real estate, tech startups. Nothing connected to football, I swear." He looked at her with desperate intensity. "Zephyr, I've never bet on games, never threw a pass, never did anything to compromise the integrity of the sport. You have to believe me." She did believe him. Looking into his eyes, seeing the genuine anguish there, she believed every word. Which made what she had to do next even harder. "It doesn't matter what I believe," she said quietly. "It matters what you can prove." "And if I can't?" "Then you're going to need better lawyers than I thought." Kai stared at her for a long moment. "Are you going to write the story?" "It's my job." "That's not what I asked." Zephyr's heart clenched as she saw the hope die in his eyes. "Yes. I'm going to write the story." "Of course you are." He started his engine, the sound unnaturally loud in the enclosed space. "Goodbye, Zephyr." As she watched him drive away, Zephyr wondered if doing her job had ever felt this much like betrayal. Chapter 5 Zephyr's article ran the next morning with the headline "STORM CLOUDS GATHERING: The Rise and Fall of Kai Blackwood." It was thorough, balanced, and completely factual. It was also the most difficult thing she'd ever written. She'd presented the facts without editorializing, included quotes from teammates and coaches praising Kai's character, and been careful to note that no charges had been filed. But she also couldn't ignore the implications of his connection to Castellanos, couldn't pretend that the timing of their meetings wasn't suspicious. The reaction was immediate and brutal. Sports talk shows dissected every paragraph. Social media exploded with hot takes and conspiracy theories. By noon, the Tempests had released a statement suspending Kai pending the outcome of the NFL's investigation. Zephyr tried to tell herself she'd done the right thing, that a good reporter followed the story wherever it led. But when her phone rang with interview requests and congratulations from colleagues, she felt nothing but hollow. She was still staring at her computer screen, rereading her own words, when her assistant knocked on her door. "There's someone here to see you," Jenny said. "He says it's about the Blackwood story." Zephyr looked up to find a man in an expensive suit standing behind Jenny, his face grim but determined. "Ms. Kane? I'm David Rodriguez, Kai's attorney. We need to talk." Twenty minutes later, Zephyr sat in a conference room with Rodriguez and a woman introduced as FBI Special Agent Sarah Chen. The documents spread across the table told a story very different from the one dominating the news cycle. "Victor Castellanos has been under federal surveillance for eight months," Agent Chen explained. "We've been tracking his attempts to compromise various athletes, including his approach to Mr. Blackwood." "Approach?" Zephyr's mouth felt dry. "He targeted his half-brother specifically because of his access and reputation. Every meeting they had was recorded." Rodriguez slid a transcript across the table. "Kai was cooperating with our investigation from the beginning. That lunch meeting? He was wearing a wire." Zephyr stared at the pages, her mind reeling. "Why didn't he tell me?" "Because he couldn't tell anyone," Agent Chen said. "Revealing an ongoing investigation could have compromised months of work and let some very dangerous people disappear." "We're going public with this information today," Rodriguez added. "Kai's name will be completely cleared. But he wanted you to know first." "Why?" Rodriguez's expression softened slightly. "I think you know why, Ms. Kane." After the lawyers left, Zephyr sat alone in the conference room, staring at the evidence of Kai's innocence. He hadn't just been cleared of wrongdoing – he'd been actively helping to expose corruption in sports. And she'd crucified him in print without giving him a chance to explain. She tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. His apartment building's doorman told her Mr. Blackwood wasn't seeing visitors. Even her press credentials couldn't get her past security at the practice facility. For three days, she tried everything she could think of to reach him. Finally, in desperation, she showed up at the youth center where she'd learned he volunteered. She found him in the gym, running drills with a group of teenagers who looked at him like he hung the moon. "That's it for today," he told the kids after spotting her in the doorway. "Remember what we worked on – keep your eyes downfield, trust your instincts." The teenagers filed past Zephyr, several of them eyeing her with open suspicion. Clearly, they'd seen the news coverage and weren't impressed with the reporter who'd written about their hero. When the gym emptied, Kai finally looked at her. The anger she'd expected wasn't there. Instead, she saw something worse – indifference. "Congratulations," he said flatly. "I hear your article broke some kind of readership record." "Kai, I'm sorry—" "For what? For doing your job? For writing a factually accurate story based on the information you had?" He shrugged. "You did exactly what any good reporter would do." "I should have trusted you." "Why? Because we kissed a few times? Because you felt sorry for the lonely quarterback?" His voice was calm, controlled, and it hurt more than shouting would have. "You didn't owe me anything, Zephyr. We barely knew each other." "That's not true." "Isn't it?" He picked up his gym bag, not quite meeting her eyes. "Look, you did me a favor. Reminded me why I don't get close to reporters. Or anyone, for that matter." "Don't do this," Zephyr said desperately. "Don't use me as an excuse to shut everyone out." "I'm not shutting anyone out. I'm just being realistic about what people really want from Storm Blackwood." He started toward the door, then paused without turning around. "For what it's worth, you were right about one thing in your article. Maybe it is time for me to retire." Chapter 6 The Tempests lost their next three games. Without Kai, the team's carefully orchestrated offense fell apart. His backup, a promising rookie named Tyler Mason, had talent but lacked experience. More importantly, he didn't have the indefinable quality that made his teammates believe they could overcome any deficit, beat any opponent. Zephyr watched from the press box as the team she'd been covering all season transformed from Super Bowl contenders to also-rans. She wrote her articles with professional detachment, but inside, she felt sick knowing she'd played a role in this collapse. It didn't help that Kai's vindication had been as public and dramatic as his initial disgrace. The FBI's press conference revealing his cooperation had dominated news cycles for days. Sports commentators who'd rushed to condemn him now fell over themselves to praise his integrity. The league had not only reinstated him but issued a formal apology. Through it all, Kai remained silent. He returned to practice, prepared for games, and gave the bare minimum responses to mandatory media sessions. But the spark that had made him special seemed dimmed, as if the ordeal had drained something essential from him. Zephyr tried to convince herself that his distance was for the best. Getting involved with a subject was unprofessional, dangerous to her objectivity and her career. But late at night, alone in her apartment, she couldn't stop thinking about the man she'd glimpsed beneath the public persona – complicated, vulnerable, and infinitely more interesting than the image he projected. The breakthrough came from an unexpected source. Marcus Webb, the veteran linebacker who'd joked with Kai during that first practice, cornered her after a team meeting. "You need to fix this," he said without preamble. "I'm sorry?" "Storm. He's going through the motions, but his heart's not in it anymore. And don't tell me it's about the investigation, because we all know that was bullshit from day one." Zephyr glanced around, making sure they weren't overheard. "Marcus, I don't think—" "You broke him," the linebacker continued bluntly. "I don't know exactly what happened between you two, but I've seen Kai bounce back from injuries, losses, family drama, and every other kind of setback. This is different." "He won't talk to me." "Then try harder." Marcus's expression softened slightly. "Look, I've known Storm for five years. In all that time, I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at you. Don't let pride or professionalism or whatever other excuse you're using destroy something real." That night, Zephyr sat at her kitchen table and wrote a letter. Not an article, not a professional communication, but a raw, honest accounting of her feelings. She wrote about the impossible position she'd been put in, about the weight of professional responsibility versus personal loyalty. She wrote about missing him, about wishing she could take back the hurt she'd caused. Most importantly, she wrote about love – the inconvenient, illogical, completely unprofessional emotion that had blindsided her when she least expected it. She sealed the letter and drove to Kai's apartment building, slipping it under his door like a teenager with a crush. Then she went home and waited. The response came two days later, but not in the form she'd expected. Instead of a call or letter, Kai appeared at her office building just as she was leaving for the day. "We need to talk," he said simply. They drove to the waterfront in tense silence, finally stopping at a pier that overlooked Elliott Bay. The October evening was crisp and clear, the city lights beginning to twinkle in the gathering dusk. "I got your letter," Kai said, leaning against the railing. "And?" "And I don't know what you want from me, Zephyr." She moved closer, close enough to see the exhaustion in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. "I want another chance." "At what? An interview? An exclusive on my comeback story?" "At us." The words hung between them, simple and terrifying. Kai stared at her for a long moment, and Zephyr held her breath. "There is no us," he said finally. "There's a reporter and a subject. There's a woman who chose her career over..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter." "It does matter. You matter." Zephyr reached for his hand, relief flooding through her when he didn't pull away. "Kai, I made a mistake. I should have trusted what I knew about you instead of running with a story based on speculation and innuendo." "You did your job." "I did a job. Not necessarily the right job, and definitely not the only job." She squeezed his fingers. "I could have waited, asked harder questions, dug deeper before publishing. I chose the scoop over the man, and I've regretted it every day since." "Why should I believe you won't make the same choice again?" It was a fair question, and Zephyr had been asking herself the same thing. "Because I'm quitting Sports Central." Kai's eyes widened. "What?" "I gave Marcus my notice this morning. I'm going freelance, focusing on long-form pieces about the human side of sports. Stories that matter more than breaking news and scandal." "Zephyr, you can't throw away your career—" "I'm not throwing it away. I'm changing direction." She turned to face him fully. "You made me realize that there are more important things than being first with a story. Like being right. Like protecting the people you care about." "And if this thing between us doesn't work out? You'll have given up everything for nothing." "Then I'll have given up everything for the chance at something real." She reached up to cup his face, her heart racing when he didn't pull away. "Kai, I love you. I know it's crazy and unprofessional and probably doomed, but I love you anyway." For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. His eyes darkened, his head dipping slightly toward hers. Then he stepped back, gently removing her hands from his face. "I can't," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, Zephyr, but I can't." He walked away, leaving her alone on the pier with the sound of waves lapping against the pilings and the wreckage of her heart. Chapter 7 The Tempests made the playoffs by the skin of their teeth, squeaking into the final wild-card spot on the last day of the regular season. Kai had played well enough to keep them competitive, but the magic that had once made him special seemed permanently dimmed. Zephyr covered their playoff run as a freelancer, her press credentials allowing her access while her broken heart made every game a special kind of torture. She watched Kai lead his team with professional competence, saw him smile for cameras and say all the right things in interviews. But she also saw the shadows under his eyes, the way he held himself apart from teammates who clearly cared about him. Marcus Webb was right. She'd broken something in him, and she had no idea how to fix it. The Tempests' playoff run ended in the divisional round, a heartbreaking loss to their division rivals that left the locker room subdued and speculation about Kai's future at fever pitch. During his post-game press conference, he announced his retirement effective immediately. "I've given everything I have to this game," he said, his voice steady despite the emotional weight of the moment. "It's time to step away and figure out what comes next." Zephyr wanted to go to him, to offer comfort or support or simply her presence. Instead, she wrote about his legacy, his impact on the team and the city, the void his retirement would leave. It was a good article, possibly her best work. It also felt like a eulogy for more than just his playing career. Three weeks later, she was researching a piece about youth sports programs when she stumbled across an interesting development. The Seattle Youth Athletic Foundation had announced a major expansion, funde