Page 14 of Her Second Chance

“Can I ask you something friend to friend?” I look up at him, swinging our arms between us.

“Of course you can, Hannah. You can ask me anything.” His face is so sincere, it takes me a moment to remember what I wanted to ask him.

“That girl over there is a friend of the guy I like. She’s probably going to tell him she saw me with you. Do you think that will run him off, or will it make him call me sooner?” I sound like such an innocent little twit. What the fuck is wrong with me? I need grown up Hannah, not young love-struck Hannah, if I want this mission to be a success.

He flexes his jaw, thinking about my question. “So, there’s competition?”

“Well, no, but he doesn’t know that.” Why does that feel less than honest?

Brock clears his throat. “If he likes you, he’ll pursue you harder. Another guy isn’t a deterrence when you’re going after the one. If anything, he’ll step up his game to show you he’s right for you and how perfect your life together will be. There’s nothing a guy hates more than watching his soulmate slip away.”

I roll my eyes. “I forgot about all the stupid games guys like to play with women.”

His entire body tenses for a fraction of a second before relaxing again. “I don’t play games.” The strain in his voice and the vein popping in his neck give me pause.

I tilt my head, studying him. “Maybe that’s how you land your supermodel.” I’d always assumed it was his athletic prowess and good looks that opened so many doors for him, but now that I’m getting to know him, I can see he’s a genuinely nice person.

“Right.” He frowns, shaking his head as he mutters something to himself.

I decide to let it go and enjoy the rest of our walk in the comfortable silence we share.

When we get to the cafeteria in the athletic dorm, Brock leads me to a table that seats four. “Sit here. I’ll go get our dinner.”

“I can go with you.”

He bites his lower lip, grinning. “Actually, this is for athletes only. I’m breaking the rules by bringing you on a date here.”

“Ooh, you’re a bad boy. I like that.” The adorable pink tint to his cheeks makes me want to kiss him. Wait, where did that come from?

He smiles, dazzling me with the way his entire face relaxes. “I sure hope so.”

He’s pushing through the crowd before I can respond. I reach up and feel my cheeks. They’re warm and ache from all the smiling I’ve done since meeting up with Brock. I don’t know that anyone has ever done this to me.

“Can I sit here?” A large guy holding three plates of food on his tray asks, gesturing to the seat across the table from me. I recognize him as Zeke Washington. He also goes on to play for the Lions with Brock. In fact, they’re often dubbed The Dynamic Duo.

I nod, pretending I’m not starstruck to be meeting another one of my favorite NFL players. “Have at it. I’m waiting for Brock.”

He raises his eyebrows, eying me up and down. “You his girl?”

I laugh. “Trust me, I’m not his type. I’m his friend. My name’s Hannah.”

The guy cocks his head, his dreads falling across his shoulder. “Not his type? What’s wrong with that boy? He’s got a cannon for an arm, but he’s an idiot if you’re not his type.”

I shrug, pretending the thought of not being what Brock wants doesn’t sting. “He’s a superstar and likes shiny trophies. When models fall at your feet, it’s kind of hard to resist them.”

“He tell you he’s a stud?” Zeke laughs, drawing attention from the surrounding tables. “The boy barely made the team. Yeah, he’s getting attention, but he’s a long way from being QB 1.”

I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. Some friend Zeke is. “I wouldn’t be so sure. In fact, I bet you’ll be eating your words in the next week or so.” The bite in my tone leaves no mistake that I won’t let anyone dis Brock.

“Is that so?” He asks, unphased by my new snippiness.

I nod, giving him as much attitude as I can muster without speaking.

He pauses for a beat, then laughs. “I like you, Hannah.”

Warmth floods my belly when l look up to see Brock approaching the table. He wears a big smile, showcasing his dazzling white teeth. Across from me, Zeke smiles, his teeth equally bright. I absentmindedly fan myself. These football players are way too sexy for their own good. I’m about to melt into a puddle surrounded by all these big muscles and pretty faces.

Brock raises one eyebrow, making his face look a little villainous and a whole lot sexy. “You hitting on my date, Washington?”

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