Page 27 of Let You Love Me

Ialready want tobury myself in a hole and never come back out, and it’s not even my first official day of work yet. All I did was turn in my damn application.

My father’s impromptu speech was bad enough, but dealing with Teaganaftermy father warned the team to stay away from me is a whole new level of mortification.

Still, I can’t blame my dad for being overprotective. He spent the better part of the last year thinking I avoided this job because I was uncomfortable working with male athletes after falling pregnant to one of his players in football camp.

And he’s not entirely wrong.

Thatiswhy I avoided this job.

But little does he know it’s because the father’s also on this field.

I swipe my bag off the bottom bleacher where I left it, ready to get the hell out of here and back to Sophie when a shadow looms over me.

Turning, I shield my eyes from the waning sun expecting my father or Mark, but instead, I find a stone-faced Chance staring down at me.

My heart jumps in my throat as I quickly take him in. His football gear only amplifies his muscular physique and broad shoulders. I’ve probably seen him in his football uniform and practice gear thousands of times, and still, the sight of him hits me like a hammer every single time.

He’s like a vacuum, sucking all the air from the room, and I absolutely hate how he still affects me. The only difference between now and before is I rather enjoy breathing more than I enjoy his company.

He’s beautiful on the outside, no doubt about it. Too bad he’s rotten inside.

“Can I help you with something?” I ask, squinting up at him.

I can’t help but wonder what he wants. It’s not like we talk anymore.

“You can quit,” he barks out.

My eyes widen in surprise before I school my expression into one of indifference. With a shake of my head, I sling my bag over my shoulder and step around him. “Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

A beat of silence passes before he calls at my back. “Lane, why the hell are you here?”

I pause in my tracks, fighting the manic laughter threatening to bubble from my throat. He, of all people, has zero right to question me aboutanything.

Spinning around to face him, I reign in the anger boiling my blood as I say, “I’m not sure it’s any of your business, but isn’t it obvious? I need a job and the money that comes with it.”

“Not this one you don’t.”

I glance up at him, jaw tight as I fight the urge to cuss him out. How did I ever find him attractive? How could I have fallen forsuch an egotistical prick? And how dare he tell me where I can and cannot work.

“And what exactly iswrongwith me working here?” I ask.

“How about the fact that it’ll be uncomfortable.”

“For whom? You, or me?” I arch a brow, arms crossed over my chest. “Because I find it hard to believe any part of you is worried about how I might feel.”

“Forbothof us.” He takes a step closer. Instinctively, I take one back. “Are you really telling me you want to see me nearly every fucking day?”

“No,” I grind out.Definitely not.

“Okay, then there are plenty of other jobs.”

I scoff, unsure of why I’m surprised. As usual, he’s only worried about himself and how my presence will affect him, not how it might help me and my life. “I’d be hard pressed to find any other job like this one that will help me get the position I want after college, and certainly not one that pays this much for so little work, not to mention free childcare. Or did you forget I still have a child?”

“No, I didn’t fucking forget,” he snaps, and my brows rise.

He’s so unflappable on the field and incapable of feeling, I almost forgot he’s human.

“Is that why you’re here?” he asks. “Is this some way of rubbing my mistakes in my face? You think I ruined your life, so now you want to ruin mine?”