Page 8 of Her Second Chance

He rubs the back of his neck, fighting the blush spreading across his cheeks. It’s endearing to say the least. “I wish.” He squints, glancing around at his fraternity brothers, who are talking with their dates. “Did one of the guys put you up to this?”

I shake my head no. “I mean, I know you’re on the football team, and I think if the quarterback gets hurt next week, you’ll take his place and be a rockstar.” Shit. I forget what I’m supposed to know. Reliving my past shouldn’t be this hard.

His face softens, replacing the skepticism with amusement. “Here’s hoping. I mean, not that Willis gets hurt, but that I get to be a starter one day. That doesn’t usually happen for walk-ons.”

“Well, I say don’t give up.” I smile, giving him a playful punch to the arm. I pull my hand back, shaking it. Damn, is this dude carved from marble?

His grin widens. “I like you Hannah.” Why do his words make me feel invincible?

I smile. “Good. Now, I hate to ruin this fun, but do you think it’d be okay if I snuck out early? I need to. . .” I stop myself because I don’t want to tell him I need to do some recon to make sure Jason will be at the party tonight. That makes me seem like a stalker. Plus, I don’t want to accidentally run into Hunter. If I’ve learned anything from the movies, what I do while I’m here will seriously affect my future, something about a space-time continuum. But if I’m being honest, I don’t want Brock to stop flirting and looking at me like I’m someone special. Not yet, anyway.

His face falls for a fraction of a second, but he plasters his smile back on so quickly I’m not sure the falter was real. “Sure. I’m tired from practice earlier anyway. Can I walk you back to your dorm?”

“You don’t have to.” Even though I mean it, I’m still disappointed at the thought of turning him away. His presence is calming. I can’t explain why, but for the first time since I woke up in this bizarre world of my past, I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be. Being with Brock makes me feel like I’m back in my real life, which makes zero sense.

He smiles. “I insist. After all, it’s on the way.”

I squint at him. “How do you know that?”

He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “All freshmen are in Wilham or Drummond. I’m in the athletic dorm, which is right across the street from them.”

I have the strongest urge to kiss him. What the hell is going on with me? I blink twice, trying to stop myself from imagining his taste. Even though this is the first time I’ve met him, I have the strangest feeling I know how his lips feel on mine. “Oh, um, yeah, sure. We can fulfill our social hour obligations to our houses and then go our merry ways.” Not to mention, I get to bask in the warmth his presence brings for a little longer. I’m not ready to say goodbye.

I catch Grace’s eye and point toward our dorm. Her eyes light up, and she gives me a thumbs up, nodding vigorously. I roll my eyes and shake my head no, but she’s returned to her conversation with Hunter. I wish I could hear what he’s saying. He looks like he’s delivering bad news. Weird.

“What was that all about?” Brock asks, gesturing toward Grace.

“My roommate is a dork. She probably thinks I’m taking you back to the dorms because she told me I need to just get over myself and lose my virginity already.”

Brock’s cheeks turn red, and he coughs.

Oops. I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud. “Sorry. I forgot how eighteen-year-old boys are when someone mentions sex.” God, he’s cute.

He puffs up his chest. “I’m nineteen.”

I roll my eyes. “Same difference.”

He gestures to his muscular form. “I’m hardly a boy. Haven’t been for a long time.”

I giggle when he drops his fake outrage and laughs. Also, he’s not wrong. There’s nothing boy about him. He looks exactly like the NFL quarterback throwing touchdowns on Monday night I know him to be.

The conversation flows well between Brock and me. For a football phenom, he’s surprisingly down to earth. Though, I guess he’s not a superstar yet. Weird. I wonder if, years from now, I’ll sit around and tell people I knew him when. Maybe that’ll be my claim to fame.

I snort.

“What?” he asks, flashing me a wide smile with perfect teeth.

“I was just imagining sitting around in the future telling people I went on a ‘date’ with NFL superstar Brock Martin in college.” I giggle.

“Or what if this is the story we tell our grandkids one day?” He bites his lip, smiling.

I grin. He’s smooth, I’ll give him that. “Sadly, I’m pretty sure you end up marrying a supermodel.” I can’t stop my lips from dipping down into a frown. Thinking about him and his wife makes me jealous.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously, you do. You get drafted by the Lions, and your signing bonus is a couple of million dollars. I think you date a movie star for a year and then marry the model. The two of you are on damn near every magazine.”

He eyes me skeptically, so I continue.

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