Page 28 of Shot on Goal at a Second Chance
As she turns to leave, Zach appears outside my door.
Harper stops, then spins around. “Zach’s here to see you.”
She lifts her brows, looking at me as if we’re two teenage girls, and one of our crushes just acknowledged our existence. “I can see that. Thank you, Harper.”
With a shy glance, she wiggles past him, catalogue clutched to her chest like a schoolbook.
He’s dressed in a light gray suit with a charcoal shirt and black tie. Along with his dark hair that’s peppered with gray at the sides, the full effect is devastating to my waning resistance to him. Why do men get to flourish in their looks as they age while we women fight every wrinkle?
After closing the door, he saunters toward me as I rise from my chair. Before I can say a word, he pulls me to him, cups my face, and kisses me, much like he did last night. As if we’re star-crossed lovers who’ve been separated for ages and seeing each other for thefirst time.
In a sense, we are, but I’m still unsure about what it all means. How long it will last? Or rather, how long Zach will stay in the picture this time?
He must sense my turmoil because he ends the kiss and stares at me. “What’s wrong?”
His hands feel warm and comforting against my skin. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I can tell something’s off. Is it Jack?” He slumps so his eyes are level with mine.
Not ready to broach the deeper questions, I latch onto his question. “He didn’t show up for our meeting this morning.”
His jaw pulses, and something guttural rumbles from his throat. “He shouldn’t disrespect you like that.”
“I know. I’ll handle it.” And I will, but in my own way. I watched my father finesse difficult players like Jack, who had more ego than brains. He had a knack for bringing the best out of the people around him, and I intend to do the same.
Zach’s features relax. “I know you will. Forgive me for feeling a little overprotective.”
This feels like a door opening. A chance to explore exactly what he’s feeling about us without outright asking if this is casual or if he wants more. I know he implied as much last night, but I’m still having doubts.
I’m not sure I’m ready to trust him with my heart again. “Why?”
“Why what?” His brows dip in the middle, hooding his eyes.
“Why do you feel protective?”
His gaze roams over my face as he straightens to hisfull height, and his thumbs are stroking up my jawline, making me feel grounded…comforted. “How can I not when it’s you?”
I try to speak, but his words leave me dumbfounded. Younger Zach was protective of me, too, especially if any other guy even glanced at me. Back then, I found it exciting because it made me feel wanted—desired. But to hear this older, more mature version of him still wants to protect me while encouraging me to stand my ground does crazy things to my heart.
“I know I need to earn your trust again, and I should have asked you this last night.” He pauses until he has my full attention. “Will you give me a chance to prove what you mean to me?”
My heart trips over itself as it runs out of hiding, waving a couple of pompoms while it shouts, “Yes!” But I’m not that young, starstruck girl anymore. I’ve built a life for myself that I love, and to be honest, I don’t have time to deal with a broken heart in the midst of getting this team back in shape.
He brushes his lips over mine, then steps away. “I’m not going to push you, Rebecca. Just think about it, okay?”
I want him to hold me again, to kiss away my fears, but I know that would only be a temporary fix. Instead, I nod.
One side of his mouth kicks up in a half smile. “Good.” He glances at the contract sitting on my desk. “Do you need an extra set of eyes on that?”
“Would you mind?”
“Not at all. Anything I can do to help, just ask.” He gives me a pointed look to emphasize his words.
“Thanks.” I hand him the papers.
He walks slowly toward the couch, skimming the front page before unbuttoning his jacket and sitting down. His tie hangs between his knees as he leans forward, studying the contract page by page—while I study him.
My fingers twitch at the thought of running them through his dark hair, all the while remembering the feel of his stubbled cheek as he trailed kisses down my neck. I blow out a slow breath and tear my gaze away, busying myself with some paperwork on my desk that I can’t even read because I’m so distracted by him. His presence fills the room beyond his broad six-foot-two frame.
