Chapter Three JaneIf someone had told me a week ago that it was going to be difficult for me to hate Weston Chase, I would have laughed that person out of my office. I have a well-stocked arsenal of material that gave me every reason to believe that I would have no trouble giving this asshole the cold shoulder for the entire season. And I was ready to do just that.
The problem is, my ten-year-old evidence of Wes’s douchebaggery just isn’t holding up to the player I see at practice every day.
He’s always the first one at the training facility in the morning, sometimes even before my dad, and he’s consistently the last to hit the showers. And it’s not just a sometimes thing. It’s an every-single-practice thing. He’s made an admirable effort—I’ll give him that.
“Chase!” Dad barks. “You bet
