I shouldn't have agreed to this. What was I thinking?

Appearing on a local news show? Just because something happened to me?

I live mostly in isolation on purpose.

But here I am.

I was so nervous that I needed the make-up chair, twice.

And then I walked past his room.

He's a giant—no softness, all muscle.

And a rich beard that made me want to rub myself all over it.

He made me see stars, literally because the second time I saw him, I tripped.

Or I would've, but he caught me, and the cameras were rolling.

Soon, that clip will be trending because he wasn't just another guest on the show.

He's Brett Broudou, the Kings' newest football star.

We couldn't be more opposite.

The only special thing about me is the reason I was on the show.

Brett, the Super Bowl champion, and me, the survivor who helped bring down the infamous Midwest Butcher.

Brett might not think he's anyone's hero, but he's about to become mine.

A/N: This is a 140k standalone.