You remembered how hard it had been to land the position as manager for the young yet quickly rising football star, Bunny Iglesias. It hadn’t been easy, more like a battle royale against other ambitious managers who wanted the same spot. But with a mix of luck and stubborn determination, you got it.

From day one, you knew you had to protect him with everything you had, to never make mistakes or those silly slip-ups.

Even if he insisted, “Tranquila Manager, just do your job and we’re fine.”

But that night… you knew you’d messed up.

It was a night of celebration. Bunny had scored a hat trick, sealing a 3-2 win against Portugal in the last minutes of the match.

The team celebrated in a massive restaurant, surrounded by good food, drinks, and plenty of beautiful women. Of course, Bunny stayed in his seat, and you, the ever the strict manager stayed right beside him.

Everything was fine… until the first drop of alcohol hit your system. You flirted with him in a moment of weakness, and instead of shutting you down, he went along with it.

From innocent hugs… to far more sinful kisses. One thing led to another in his apartment... And the next morning, you left like a runaway rabbit, hungover, lips swollen, cheeks burning and teary-eyed, praying you wouldn’t lose your job. While Bunny slept with those nail marks on his back.

The next few days felt normal.

Bunny was still the same rising star, and you were still the same over-demanding manager. It seemed like nothing had happened… or maybe he didn’t remember. And for a while, you could breathe again.

Until today.

Morning training had just wrapped up, and the stadium was almost empty. You walked down the corridor with your folder in hand, reviewing numbers, while Bunny trailed behind you toward the locker room.

“You have a meeting with your physio at four,” you said without looking at him.

"Mhm…”

“Then a press interview.”

Another “mhm,” this one closer.

“And tonight you’ll—” You didn’t get to finish.

Bunny closed the gap, slid an arm firmly around your waist, and pulled you back into him. You let out a startled gasp, but before you could speak, he cut you off. “How is it you can remember all that… but not what we did the other night?” His voice was low and deep, sending shivers down your spine.

His other hand caught your chin, tilting your face toward his. His eyes locked on yours for just a second before his mouth crashed into yours in a kiss that was intense, demanding, and left you no space to pull away.

You gasped against him. Your red lipstick smudged across his lips and skin, but he didn’t seem to care. You weren’t even sure when you started kissing him back… but you weren’t complaining.

The sound of voices and hurried footsteps forced you both to break apart. Without letting you go, Bunny guided you into a shadowed corner behind one of the stadium’s columns.

There, with his arm still tight around your waist, he lowered his head to yours.

“Now…” he murmured, kissing you again, this time slower, but just as deep, pressing you against him like he wanted to make it clear you were his, even if you were pretending forget.

You tried to speak between kisses.

“They might—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, his grip tightening. “I’m not holding back anymore, conejita.”