Chasing Headlines
J. Rose Black
(Chasing Victory, #1)
Publication date: January 2nd 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
They’re chasing the same dream…
Too bad they’re not on the same team.When Breslin Cooper’s major league dreams go up in flames, he’s left with his backup plan: college baseball at Texas State Tech in Vanquer, Texas. But his public altercation with a reporter saddles him with mandated community service, therapy–and a toxic “Storm Cooper” reputation that no professional baseball scout will touch.
Liv Milline’s family name is practically synonymous with IML baseball. Yet despite her love for the game (the tight pants aren’t bad, either) and her dreams of becoming a baseball scout–her father holds one, ironclad rule: No baseball for Olivia (the corollary: no baseball players for Olivia is just downright mean).
Her one loophole? Playing baseball beat reporter for Texas State Tech.
Chasing similar dreams, Liv attempts to befriend Breslin. But the amazingly talented, pain in her aperture has only two words to say whenever she’s around: “No comment”.
Still, she can’t help but notice the troubled ballplayer’s running on overload. Emotionally wounded and reeling from his mother’s death, the only time Breslin seems close to “ok” is on the ballfield. Liv and his new teammates can’t seem to get through.
When a lapse in judgment catches Breslin in a real-world rundown, jeopardizing his probation and his baseball scholarship, his only choice may be to rely on Liv–the aggravating, attractive, and utterly relentless reporter, chasing her latest headline.
[Book one of a series, Chasing Headlines ends with a HFN, no cliffhanger, but lingering / unresolved issues waiting to bite them in the butt in Book 2.]
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EXCERPT:
Breslin POV
I threw my glove in my locker and grabbed my backpack from the hook. I imagined myself bounding out of the room, but my legs barely managed more than a shuffle.
Still, I must have gotten going a bit too fast because, the next thing I knew, Rally Girl was on the ground, phone skittering across the tile.
And I was the asshole. Shit.
She sat on her rear in the center of the hallway, rubbed her hip and winced. Fuck, is she going to claim I injured her—to get back at me for earlier? I glanced behind me at the locker room door. She can follow me. I looked at the exit door. I’d have to step over her. That would be ridiculous. I had more integrity than that.
Still . . .
She hissed through clenched teeth.
“You . . .” Dammit, what was her name? I had not been paying attention to anything other than, well, my shirt. On her body. Idiot.
“Well, what’s left of me. Geez, do you eat bricks for breakfast or what?”
Her legs, long and tan and open—they bent at the knee as she rested her elbows on them. And apparently, my body was not too tired to enjoy the view.
“I’m not hurt and I’m not upset. But maybe you could help me up?” She spoke in a soft voice. Dark eyelashes framed bright blue-green eyes.
I extended a hand and tugged her to her feet. She stood for a breath, two. So close. Connected. Something about the feel of her skin against mine . . . A small, but soothing warmth tingled through the nerves in my hand, sparking a heated rush from my palm to my neck.
A sharp breath, and then her fingers slid from my grasp. I missed the warmth of her.
“. . . maybe offer an apology?” She moved her hand up and down in a phantom handshake. “Sure, Coop. No hard feelings.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled. Can this be over? I panted for air and shifted back a step. Her being the hot chick in the water fountain had been one thing. I could have tried to find her, always wondered, haunted the student center in the hopes I’d run into her again.
Her being a reporter meant all of those things went on the “no fucking way, ever” list.
“I don’t know what you’re over there thinking, but, I wouldn’t hurt you. You mean too much to the team.” She frowned. “This was an accident. Not that it didn’t jar me to the bone. You missed your calling as a linebacker.”
I blinked. Opened my mouth. Re-ran the words through my brain. She just said a shit ton of stuff, and what the fuck was any of it about?
“I’m fine, really. You need to stop gushing over me. All the upset is really beneath you.” One eyebrow rose and she crossed her arms. How did she breathe while saying all those words?
“Um, are you OK?” She leaned closer.
I stared at her mouth. “You talk a lot.”
Her arms dropped to her sides. “That’s what you have to say? Not a ‘You OK? ’or ‘So sorry, I didn’t see you there. Can I help you with your things?’”
I didn’t catch all of it, but, maybe, if I did the last thing, she’d move out of my way? And I could get food, drink a gallon of water, take a shower? I stunk to hell and back.
Help her with her stuff. I set my backpack down and knelt at her feet. I tried not to think about those short running shorts or how good it’d feel to slide my fingers over the curve of her calf, up to her hip. I shoved her shit into her bag and tossed it to her. I retrieved her phone from the tile floor.
“That’s, um. Yeah. Thanks.” She pulled the device from my grip.
I pushed my sweat-soaked hair from my forehead. “You’re OK?”
“Yeah.” She pulled the bag over her shoulder. “Got bowled over by a human freight train, but lived to tell the tale. I pity any catcher that tries to get in your way.” She gave me a tight-lipped smile.
So many words. No wonder she had to write them all down. “But you’re fine?”
“What, do you need me to sign a waiver?”
Red hazed into my vision. “I’d say yes, but reporters are lying snakes in the grass. Wouldn’t matter.”
“I . . .” Her jaw worked, but no sound came out.
An errant thought about her mouth working flit through my brain.
“But, I–We’re on the same team, Coop.” She pointed at her jersey as if that was “proof”. It sure as hell wasn’t.
“We’re not.” I hefted my backpack onto my shoulder. “But you were right about one thing.”
“What do you mean?”
I leaned down and stared at her head on. She turned a deep dark pink.
“To pity the person who tries to get in my way.”
Author Bio:
J. Rose Black weaves stories about obsession, redemption, and the transcendental power of love. From her early days writing fanfiction for a passionate following of international readers, to crafting novels with her own characters, Rose has always been drawn to broody protectors and plucky, no-nonsense women ready to fight for what they believe in.
When Rose isn’t deeply immersed in her latest manuscript, she’s working in cyber security and thwarting the next generation of internet bad guys. Out of the office, she’s #Shipping with friends over her favorite, swoon-worthy couples, heading to the gym to battle the great evil that is Unmovable Baby Weight, or complaining about her husband’s addiction to 3D printing. Also: nagging her children to eat something other than cheese.
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