Page 89 of Let You Love Me

Chance grins. “Oh, come on now, Nichols. You and I both know luck has nothing to do with it.” He winks. “I’m justthatgood. But don’t be sour. There will be other games. It’s not like this is your last. As a rookie, you should be grateful you’re even getting so much play time.”

I grit my teeth. Though he’s not entirely wrong, we both know I’m a damn good football player. Otherwise, Coach wouldn’t have me on the starting lineup.

“Speaking of luck, though . . .” His gaze travels down my arm to where Sophie’s bracelet encircles my wrist, staring pointedly for a beat longer than I’d like.

My chest tightens, and I twitch to cover it up. I want to hide the brightly beaded bracelet from his probing gaze so I can somehow protect Lane and Sophie. But it’s too late, and any such movement will only draw further attention. Besides, if the way he’s staring at it is any indication, he already knows who gave it to me.

His eyes lift, his gaze icing over as a chill shimmies up my spine. “Looks like luck wasn’t on your side today, after all,” he says.

Chapter 22

LANE

Itake a seaton one of the cushioned benches of the mall’s indoor playground and remove Sophie’s shoes, then tell her to be careful as she runs off to climb a giant, rubbery whale.

“Now, let’s talk about why we just spent an hour wondering around the mall eating a thousand calories in pretzels”?Gabby waves her cinnamon sugar pretzel in the air?“when I know darn well your mother made a massive brunch this morning.”

She eyes me, one dark brow arching toward her hairline as I deflate.

Sometimes I forget how well Gabby knows me. My mother’s brunches are a well-known tradition and honestly amazing. She could easily open a brunch-only restaurant and make a killing. But the moment football season starts, Chance seems to be at every single one of them, and since I make it a habit of avoiding him at all costs, that means I usually make myself scarce.

Like today.

If my parents have caught on, they’ve never said anything. Or maybe the conversation in-season is so hyper-focused on football, they barely notice my absence.

“You know why.” I dish out a good dose of side-eye before glancing back to where Sophie climbs up the whale’s spongy tongue which doubles as a slide.

“You’d think he’d quit going after . . .” She discreetly nods her head toward Sophie.

“Not in-season.” I shake my head on a sigh. “He no longer comes around in the spring and summer, but in the fall, he just avoids us as much as possible while he’s there.”

Gabby grunts. “He’s like a fucking sea urchin. All innocent looking at first sight, until you realize what a prick he is, and if you don’t stay away, he’ll fuck you up.” I snort while Gabby stares off into the distance. “Gosh, I bet it’ll be a relief once he’s gone, won’t it?”

“You have no idea.” I sigh.

“Do you think the rumors are true? That he might get drafted early?”

“I don’t know.”God, I hope.

A little boy gives Sophie a light shove, and my stomach lurches. I start to rise to my feet, but pause when she tells him to stop, then moves to the other side of the playground. Crisis averted.

“Little rat. Gosh, I freaking hate kids,” Gabby mutters. I chuckle at her candor because as much as Gabby loves Sophie, she’s not a fan of children. “Except Soph, of course,” she rushes to add. “She’s an effing angel. You’re so lucky to have her.”

My lips curve, her words bringing me back to my conversation with Teagan.

There’s no luck about it, Lane. You made her that way. You’re the reason she’s so awesome. You know that, don’t you?

“So, how’s it going with Teagan,” she asks, as if she can read my thoughts.

When I don’t immediately respond, she bumps my shoulder with hers. “Any new developments there? Did you heed my advice and stop avoiding him like a pus—”

“Gabby!” I hiss, then bark out a laugh. “Children, remember?” I motion around us.

I bite my lip, grinning wide while my thoughts drift to Teagan and everything that happened the other night at the lake house.

Gabby gasps. “Oh my gosh, something happened, didn’t it?”

“Shhhhh.” I glance around us as if someone I know might hear. “Nothing . . .happened,” I say, even though I’m not entirely sure that’s true. I mean, sure, we didn’t actually do anything, but I wouldn’t call skinny dipping and practically eye fucking each other nothing.