A polished, perfect football player with a secret that could destroy everything and a fierce, quick-witted reporter, determined to get the story that isn’t being told. In a world where division sells and secrets can ruin careers… who’s saving who? Readers who enjoy forced proximity and morally grey characters will devour Who’s Saving You by Carolina Jax, a steamy, secret life, reverse age gap, football romance.
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Nik Papas is the newest WR for the South Carolina Warriors. Dubbed “Saint Nik” for his squeaky clean persona, he’s polished and perfect and always has the right answer. But underneath all that ‘Saint’ is a secret that could destroy it all.
Noelle Moreno is a reporter for The Falls Press, always determined to get the story that isn’t being told. Fierce and quick-witted, she's got a taste for sweets and an aversion to football players.
In the sports world, where division sells and secrets can ruin careers, sometimes your only hope is an enemy turned lover, or a dangerous man who’s too irresistible. And when that happens, you have to ask …
Who’s Saving You
Excerpt
Copyright 2025 Carolina Jax
The roar hits me like a wave as I step onto the field.
Itʼs not just noise; these stands are alive. Even with the shield on my helmet, I blink against the stadium lights. The spotlights are shining down on the most capable players the league has to offer. Chants bounce off the stands, rolling like thunder. My green and black jersey fits like a glove. I was made for this.
This is Sunday Night Football.
The huddle breaks, and I do my best to ignore the scoreboard. I already know what time it is. The game is tied with a minute and fourteen left on the clock, ball on the forty-two. Coach Gage gave me the green light. I check the defense and see that a safety and a cornerback are locked in on my every move. They know the ball is coming to me.
Let them try to take it.
I line up wide left, one toe digging into the turf. The cornerback across from me is eyeing me like I'm about to be dinner, but I just give him a slight chuckle. Iʼm too fast for him, and he knows it. With six million watching from home and sixty thousand right here in the stands, the crowd's energy gives me the extra boost I need. They chant my name, and it hums in my chest louder than my own heartbeat.
Here comes the snap. I rock forward, weight even, and fingers twitching. This is the moment every rookie dreams of. This is the moment theyʼll either praise you for or castrate you. The one run where they say, “yeah, he's ready to playˮ or “nope, too green. Take a seat on the bench.ˮ
I know Iʼm better than anything they say.
The ball is snapped, and I explode off the line. The corner tries to cut me off, but I slip by, shoulder down, and accelerate into the open field. The safety guarding me overshoots his shot, and I cut inside, circling him before taking off toward the sideline.
It's my favorite route to run, and now Iʼm wide open.
Jameson Winters, my QB, sees it and already expects me there as he lets the ball fly. Itʼs a tight spiral aiming right for me, and Iʼm ready.
The clock ticks, and I push hard, one, two, three, four steps. I reach out, and the ball hits my hands like a moth to a flame. I cradle it to me, twist away from a defender, and run out of bounds.
First down!
The stadium erupts. I mean, it literally explodes. Iʼve been to games, sat in the stands, and watched as my favorite team was inches away from scoring. Thereʼs no better feeling, itʼs as if I was already playing for them. I laugh to myself, remembering that analyst who said I wasnʼt ready, the one who said I still needed a year.
Fuck your year.
My teammates swarm me, slapping me on my helmet before quickly pulling me back to the huddle.
Line up. Do it again.
On the outside, Iʼm calm. I stand amongst my team listening to Jameson call the play. But inside? Fucking fireworks. My blood runs through me like lava, my heart pumping like I've been electrocuted. Iʼm half-fucking-hard standing here because I know what's coming.
They throw it to me because I wonʼt drop it, because I make the plays the vets hesitate on. Iʼm too new and too stupid to feel any other way but to sacrifice it all.
America loves an underdog, but they worship the one who can prove them wrong. And Iʼll do it every fucking time.
Ballʼs on the 17, and the clock is ticking. Jameson steps up and meets my eyes.
“Coach called a Ghostfade. You got this?ˮ
My lips twitch. “You know I do.ˮ
This play is designed for me as Iʼm the only one who can outrun a defender every single time. Like a ghost fades into thin air, I fade into the end zone, outrunning everyone around me.
I line up wide and see the cornerʼs already pressing in, but he wonʼt ever catch me. The snap hits, and I fake inside, sell the slant hard, then cut. Iʼm running outside, straight and clean. He stumbles; itʼs just a step, but thatʼs all I need to take off. The end zone opens up like a door.
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About Carolina Jax
Hailing from a tiny town in New York, Carolina spends her free time with her military husband, their three sons and new daughter-in-law (welcome to this crazy family!) and her chocolate lab, Lincoln. Her avid love for reading slowly morphed into an “I want to do that, too!ˮ attitude and a dream was born with a pen and paper. Carolina Jax writes contemporary romances about her favorite things – football, small towns and big hearts. Her stories are based on an everyday life with amazing people finding amazing love. They have the perfect combination of love, lust and laughs, and always with a Happily Ever After. When sheʼs not on the field watching her boys play football and lacrosse, she loves to drink wine with friends, watch the Philadelphia Eagles (hopefully) win, read about alpha heroes, and dream about everything Christmas.
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