Page 28 of Her Second Chance

“Hey,” I say, toying with the hem of my short skirt.

He gives me a curt nod. “Hey.”

“Can we talk?” I chew on my lower lip, afraid he’s going to tell me to fuck off. If he does, I won’t blame him. It’s what I deserve.

He exhales a slow measured breath, his eyes searching my face for something. But what? “I’m exhausted. Practice was brutal, and I need to eat, then go back to my room and sleep. I don’t have time for this.” For you. He doesn’t say that last part, but I hear him loud and clear. I’m too much of a waste of time for him to keep playing these games with me.

“Please,” I whisper, knowing I’m being unfair to him, but unable to let him go like I need to. For whatever reason, I can’t let him go. But can I really choose him? What if none of this is real?

He turns to me, taking my hand. “Hannah, you’re killing me. I need you to come back to me.” His voice is desperate, but I don’t understand what he’s saying. It doesn’t even make sense.

“Brock–“

He places a finger on my lips. “I’ll wait until you’re ready. I’m not mad, Hannah. My heart is breaking. We belong together.”

“Don’t say that. I can’t be with you now, no matter how much I want to. It will ruin everything for the future. I don’t want to end up alone. Jason brought me here. I can’t ever forget that.”

He closes his eyes, his face so pained, I feel the ache in my chest. “See, you keep saying that, but I don’t have a future without you.”

“You don’t understand.” How can I make him understand when I don’t?

Instead of arguing, he shrugs and turns back to the food line. One of the cheerleaders pushes past me and puts her arm around Brock’s middle, hugging her perfect body against his. I want to rip her hands off him and piss a circle around where he stands, marking him as mine. Stupid as that thought is, I can’t help myself from wanting to do it anyway.

The girl hanging off Brock trails a finger down his chest, getting dangerously close to his waistband. “Hey, stud. You ready to lead us to victory on Saturday?”

He smiles and winks, capturing her hand before she moves it lower and leaning down to whisper something in her ear. I want to break something when she laughs and strokes his chest.

Tears sting my eyes as rage bubbles inside me. “I knew this was all a game to you,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

Brock doesn’t even bother responding to me. Why would he? He’s already moved on. I can’t believe I’ve been such a fool.

I push my way out of the Union and head straight for the reason I came back here. Jason. He brought me here, and maybe I was right to choose him the other day. Had I chosen Brock, I’d eventually wind up alone.

By the time I walk from the Student Union to Wilham, I’m fired up. How dare Brock Martin try to derail my future. Never again! It’s time I do what needs to be done so I can go back to my life, my real life. Getting a second chance was fun for a while, but I miss my life. I miss my dog. Even though I never thought I’d say this, I miss being thirty-one.

Jason stands outside the dorm, smoking with that Misty girl. When he sees me, his eyes widen, and he steps away from her. She shoots me a withering look, but nothing can make me feel worse than what I saw earlier at the Student Union.

I smirk. Too bad, honey. He’s my future husband, not yours. “Hey, you.” I step close to Jason, batting my eyelashes at him while using my body to block out Misty.

“Excuse you. We were talking.” She grabs my shoulder, pulling me to the side.

Instead of whirling around and smacking her for laying her hands on me, I decide to take a page out of my mom’s playbook and kill her with kindness. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there.” I’m not the best actress, but I’m able to successfully sound like I’m trying to be friendly. I turn back to Jason. “Are you finished with your classes for the day?”

“I’ve got one in an hour.”

“Wanna play hooky with me?” I lean forward, giving him a good look down my shirt.

He raises his eyebrows and grins. “You bet.” He looks over my shoulder at Misty. “I’ll hit you up later.”

She huffs, but I’m already dragging him by his hand inside the dorm before she can say anything. This round goes to me.

His hand feels warm in mine, and I struggle to remember spending hours holding this hand. I don’t know why all my memories of Jason feel fabricated when everything about Brock feels so damn real. Even as I redo these moments with him, they still feel less authentic than when I’m with Brock, which makes zero sense.

As soon as the elevator doors close, I grab his shoulders, using them as leverage so I can leap into his arms. He catches me with his hands under my ass. Not giving myself a second to rethink this, my lips are on his in a flurry. I’m past the awkwardness of our early kisses, focusing only on this moment with him. It may not feel right, but it doesn’t exactly feel wrong either. More like all of this seems like a dream.

He sets me down on my feet when the elevator comes to a stop on his floor. “What’s gotten into you? I’m not complaining. I’m just surprised.”

“I want you.” I mean, I think I do.

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