Page 60 of Let You Love Me

“Nichols!” a voice calls out from behind.

I stiffen, recognizing the deep timbre and pivot on my heel.

Chance Lockhart advances toward me with a frown, and I sigh. “Lockhart.”

His lips thin, forehead furrowed as he stops in front of me. “You have a minute?”

Not for you, I want to say, but he’s our quarterback and our captain. I can hardly refuse him, so I mutter, “I can spare one or two.”

“Good.” Chance shifts on his feet and crosses his arms over his chest as Tommy leaves us to talk. “I just wanted to touch base with you.”

“What about?” I ask, even though I know exactly what this is about.

“Lane.” His eyes narrow. “Listen, I don’t know what your intentions are with her—”

“I thought we cleared this up last night,” I interrupt. “Lane and I are friends.”

He scoffs. “Lane doesn’t have guy friends.”

How the fuck would you know?

I don’t know what it is about Chance Lockhart that rubs me the wrong way, but my ass has been chapped since before the tire stealing incident. And after last night and the way he spoke to Lane, I’m fucking rubbed raw.

I stare at him, wondering what his game is when I decide it doesn’t matter and offer him a shit-eating grin. “I guess she does now.”

The muscle in his jaw twitches. “Well, I don’t know if you know this, but you could say I’ve been a part of her family for a long time. Coach Turner mentored me for years and—”

“She told me,” I say through gritted teeth.

Chance’s brows rise as if surprised she shared this particular piece of information with me.

“Then you can understand where I’m coming from when I say I just want what’s best for Coach’s daughter.”

My lips flatten into a thin line. If he has a point, he’d better damn well get to it.

“Lane has been through a lot.” His gaze flickers up and down my body, sizing me up. “As you’re aware, she has a daughter. She’s in a completely different place in her life. I don’t want to see her get hurt, especially by some freshman who’s still sowing his oats.”

“Pretty presumptuous, aren’t you?”

He shrugs, his tone unapologetic as he adds, “Just calling it like I see it.”

I step a little closer, searching his expression for any clue as to what the hell his angle is because I’m about done with the games.“Well, while we’re calling things as we see them, maybe I should point out that you’re awfully invested in her personal life for a familyfriend.”

Anger flickers in his green orbs. “You heard Coach. He doesn’t want any of you dickheads messing with her. Maybe he’d buy your bullshit excuse about being her friend, but I don’t. I see right through you, Nichols.” He sneers. “I see the way you look at her, and it doesn’t look particularly friendly to me.”

I lift a shoulder. “Why don’t we let Lane be the judge of that? She’s a big girl, and from what I’ve seen, she can handle herself.”

His lips curl, his tone ominous as he says, “Tread lightly, Nichols. I’m watching you. It’d be a shame to get on Coach’s bad side as a rookie.”

I scoff, amazed I can loathe this douchebag more than I already do. “Is that a threat?”

He shrugs. “Consider it a promise.” He brushes past me, bumping into my shoulder hard.

Fucking asshole.

I turn, and like a glutton for punishment, I watch him make a beeline for Coach, who’s hovering outside the tunnels talking to Lane. Both of them turn to Chance, but while Coach naturally leans toward him like a flower drawn to light, Lane takes a step back.

This observation, however, does little to ease the knot tightening in the pit of my stomach because two seconds later, Chance says something to make Coach laugh, and he’s waving her over.

---