Page 24 of Her Second Chance

He grabs my wrist, tugging me into his arms. He cups the back of my head, caressing my cheek. It feels forced and awkward, unlike when Brock did it. “I spent all of last night waiting for you. You can stand to wait a little for me.”

I bite my tongue to keep from completely ruining my future with him. Instead, I nod, closing my eyes and leaning into his touch.

“Will I see you tonight?” he asks.

I give him a stiff smile. “Maybe. I need some sleep first.”

“How are you still tired when you passed out right after the game?”

Oh, right. Shit. “Um, maybe I’m coming down with something. I just feel exhausted today,” I lie, hoping he believes me.

He steps back. “Maybe we can hang next week. I don’t want to get sick if you’re coming down with something.”

Well, fuck. This is not going according to plan. “Yeah. Anyway, I better go.” Time to get my shit together.

Not bothering with my coffee, I turn on my heel and head toward my dorm. For someone with a second chance, I’m messing things up royally.

Brock

I wake from dreams of Hannah, reaching for her only to remember I’m in my bed alone. Despite knowing she’d be gone when I woke up, I’m still jolted by the realization that she’s not here with me, where she belongs. The room feels empty without her. I shake my head, scrubbing my hands down my face. I long for the days she wakes me with kisses as she snuggles into me.

I need to be patient. She can’t stay away forever. Not when we belong together.

Chapter 9

Hannah

As soon as I return to my dorm room, I take a quick shower before crashing. Exhausted from not just last night, but reliving my past as well, I don’t even bother to dry my hair. I slip on an oversized t-shirt and crawl into bed. A dreamless sleep overtakes me.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when the ringing of the landline phone on my desk tears me out of a dream where Brock and I are kissing on a beach. I sit up, rubbing my eyes. Who could possibly be calling right now?

Not wanting to face anyone after my embarrassing night last night and then the catastrophe of my interaction with Jason, I ignore it, rolling over and pulling the covers over my head. The sound of Grace and me singing to leave a message fills the room. After the beep, the deep voice that sends chills down my spine and electricity straight to my core fills the room.

“Hey, Hannah. It’s Brock. I woke up, and you were gone. Just checking in to make sure you’re okay. Call me.”

“Not in this life,” I mutter. There’s no way I’m facing him after last night’s embarrassment. How could I? At least I won’t have to see him when I go back to my real timeline.

No sooner do I get comfortable, my phone rings again. I lift the receiver and then place it back into the cradle before unplugging the phone. Satisfied Brock got the message, I snuggle into my comforter, drifting back to sleep.

Sometime later, a pounding on the other side of the door rouses me from my sleep. Thinking Grace has forgotten her key, I stumble out of bed and throw open the door. My eyes widen when I see Brock on the other side with his hand poised to knock again. Luckily, he stops himself from knocking again in time. Otherwise, I’d be knocked in the face.

He pulls his hand back, looking me up and down, then smiling. “You got all fixed up for me.” The teasing of his voice does nothing to stave off the embarrassment of being face-to-face with him so soon after last night. Kill me now.

My hand shoots to the rat’s nest on top of my head, and I groan. Going to bed with wet hair is never a good look. Especially for someone with fine hair that’s prone to tangle. My cheeks burn when I realize it’s not my hair he’s looking at. I threw on a t-shirt in haste to go to sleep and didn’t bother with a bra or panties. My nipples are on high alert, begging Brock to notice them, which he does, judging by the way his eyes are glued to my tits. I tug at the bottom of the shirt, hoping I haven’t flashed him my pussy.

“I’m avoiding you.” I cross my arms over my chest, shooting my most lethal glare at him.

He laughs. “Yeah, doll, I know. That’s why I’m here.”

“Look, I’m sure you want to rub in the fact that I was. . . you know.” I gesture toward my lady bits. “But I’m beyond humiliated. If we have any hope of salvaging a friendship, please let it go.” I raise my eyebrows for good measure. “And stop calling me doll,” I add as an afterthought. It’s not that I don’t like the nickname. What I don’t like is the way my heart races whenever he calls me that. I can’t fall for Brock. Ever.

He steps past me into the room, sitting on my unmade bed. “I’m not here to embarrass you. I’m trying to make sure you don’t ice me out.” He seems so humble, I can’t help but believe him. Something about him feels comforting, like he truly sees me. No matter how much I don’t want to encourage him, I’d be lying if I said I want him to leave me alone.

I sit across from him on Grace’s bed, not trusting myself to be near him and not try to climb him like a tree. Maybe the physical distance will keep my hormones under control.

Big mistake.

His eyes widen, and I realize I’ve flashed my lady bits at him. I slam my legs closed and put Grace’s pillow over my lap.

---