Page 158 of Let You Love Me

I knew he’d come after me, but I’d hoped to beat him to the punch.

I peek inside the door, careful not to show my face as I make out a sliver of the room, enough to see Coach clap Chance on the back. “It’s been my pleasure to watch you grow over the years, son, and no matter what happens out there on the field today or the rest of the season, you’ve earned your success. You’re gonna go far.”

Lowering my hand, I swallow over the bile rising in the back of my throat.

I knew Turner and Chance were close but hearing him call him “son” makes my skin crawl.

Turner thinks of Chance as family.

He’ll take his side every time.

Which means I’m fucked and not just with football, but Lane, too.

“I appreciate it,” Chance says. “I never would’ve gotten to where I am without you.”

The sound of footsteps startles me and I scramble back, hovering in the shadows of the hallway as I try to catch my bearings.

The door swings open, and Chance steps out.

My pulse skitters. His grin widens. “Nichols.” He saunters closer, a picture of casual ease. “Come to talk to Coach? I assume you have information about the playbook.”

My nostrils flare. “You smug son of a bitch.”

“Guess it’s your word against mine.” He taps his chin. “Wonder who he’ll believe.” He starts to brush past me, but I block his path.

“At least I have my integrity. At least I didn’t throw my whole fucking team under the bus just to prove some kind of point.”

All the amusement in Chance’s expression vanishes and he shrugs. “I’ll still get drafted.”

“You’re a dick.”

Chance smirks, something dark and dangerous gleaming in his eyes as he leans into me and whispers, “Tell me, does it bother you that her father thinks of me as a son? That he’llalwaysbe Team Lockhart?”

The muscles in my jaw flex. My fists vibrate with the need for release, knuckles turning white as my nails bite into the palms of my hands.

This is what he wants, to goad me into a response.

He’s probably hoping I’ll snap and get my ass benched.

Instead, I lift my chin and smile. “Does it bother you? That Lane chose me?”

There’s a flicker of anger in his eyes, and I know I have him.

Thisisabout Lane.

Disgust curls my lip as I look him up and down. “I wonder what it would be like to pine after a girl for years, only for her to choose the rookie?” I say, throwing Chance’s words from months ago back in his face.

“You think shechoseyou?” Chance bites out. “Newsflash, Nichols, you were her second choice, only because I walked away.”

My eyes widen, a low hum in my ears as I try and make sense of what he just said. If I’m to believe Lane, she never had feelings for Chance. Nothing happened between them.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, “does it haunt you knowing I got there first? ThatIwas the one to pop her cherry.”

My heart seizes in my chest.

Time stops.

The world tilts.

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