Matched with Her Athlete Boss (Romance by Love, Austen Book 3)

MATCHED WITH HER ATHLETE BOSS ROMANCE BY LOVE, AUSTEN BRITNEY M. MILLS Copyright © 2023 by Britney M Mills Cover design by Melody Jeffries All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. CONTENTS 1. Kenzie 2. Trey 3. Kenzie 4. Kenzie 5. Trey 6. Kenzie 7. Trey 8. Kenzie 9. Kenzie 10. Trey 11. Kenzie 12. Trey 13. Trey 14. Trey 15. Kenzie 16. Kenzie 17. Trey 18. Kenzie 19. Trey 20. Kenzie 21. Trey 22. Kenzie 23. Kenzie 24. Trey 25. Kenzie 26. Trey 27. Kenzie 28. Trey 29. Kenzie 30. Trey 31. Kenzie 32. Trey 33. Kenzie 34. Trey 35. Trey 36. Kenzie 37. Kenzie Epilogue Also by Britney M. Mills About the Author 1 KENZIE Cleaning Enthusiast is my middle name. Or at least it should be. My roommates would agree that this title fits. Aside from hiding chocolate bars in random places around the house for emergencies, I like to keep things in order. I went down an internet rabbit-hole a few days ago, surprised by how much can go into the psychology of cleaning. I did a spring cleaning on the house back in April and now, mid-way through July, I’m starting over again. There’s nothing wrong with a cleaning overhaul every three months, right? And not just the deep clean kind. My brother let me use his truck to take a bunch of bags to a donation center from all of the Spice House roomies. Growing up as the only daughter of Brian Sullivan and Felicia Tomlinson, with a slew of half-brothers, my life has been an adventure for sure. So, as of six days ago, I started an organizing business. Do I have clients yet? No. But I’ve got business cards and that’s the true start of being an entrepreneur, right? How does a girl who can’t keep a job claim to be an expert in organizing a space? But the overriding issue in holding down a job is that if it’s boring or they don’t keep things clean, I have a hard time focusing on anything but the mess. Because my dad is a hoarder at home but the epitome of neat and tidy when it comes to the ice rink he manages. How he can manage both makes me wonder if it’s a superpower, like Superman and Clark Kent. The hoarding increased over my middle school and high school years. His need to keep everything caused so many fights between my mother and father at the beginning of their marriage that while there were still other things wrong, I think it eventually led to their divorce. Mom is on marriage number four and Dad has a girlfriend, last time I heard. Their relationships alone should’ve been a key indicator for how my love life would go. No, I’ve never been married, but I was close once. The breakup was devastating at first, but looking back, I call it a blessing. Other than that, I usually go on a few dates with men—not at the same time of course—land then end up sliding into the friend zone. I wish I didn’t understand why. Guys want a woman who’s sexy and coy, not someone like me who slinks around in workout clothes or sweatpants every chance I can. It’s the by-product of growing up a tom-boy. I love anything to do with sports, or things that are high adrenaline. And my competition level is off the charts. Chances are high I’m not letting a man win just to save his ego. And after my last relationship with Johnny where he slowly ghosted me, then magically reappeared three months later to ask for advice on what to do with this new girl he liked, I might as well start an advice column for guys. It would be called Girl Talk or something like that. Does every one of these guys break my heart? No, but the one that hurt the worst left me for a woman with the title of Princess. There is a unicorn, the one guy I can never have because I’m not at all like the models he has on his arm at all the big fancy events he’s invited to. If there was a Guinness Record for longest crush, it would probably have my name in there soon when it comes to Treydon Hatch, Boston Breeze center who should be the right wing. At least I’m trying to cure myself of that. It’s nice to think about someone I don’t actually know, well aside from meeting him after one of his games a few weeks ago. There are no attachment issues, or wondering where the relationship will go in a few weeks. I’m the fan girl. I straighten my shoulders and smile. That’s why I’m going solo, a lot like that song that was popular a few years ago. I’m not going to worry about guys and I’m done dating. My biggest problem right now is telling Dad that I’m going to be my own boss. I called my mom last night, mostly because she’s living in Europe and I needed something to talk about with her. I can still hear her voice saying, “MacKenzie, that sounds like a lot of work.” The woman was laying out in the sun at a private resort her newest husband owns. I’m not good at sitting still for that long. A banking alert pops up on my phone. Three dollars and fifty-seven cents are all that’s in my checking account right now. I still have to pick up my last check from the ABC You Better Drugstore, but that will go toward gas and food. And now I’m wondering if starting my own business is a bad idea. That seems to be the common thread in my