Page 1 of Her Second Chance

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Chapter One

This was the moment Zach lived for. Everything—all the sweat, tears, and sore muscles—came down to this moment. He crouched down at the line, waiting for the sound of his teammate, snapping the ball.

Three, two, one…

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he straightened and shifted, pushing against the grass with his cleats. He needed to slip past the outside linebacker, narrowly missing the cornerback, and make his way to the end zone.

Panic rose up inside of him as he felt the hands of Jonathan Braxton—his college best friend but right now, rival—graze his skin. He jerked his arm up while twisting his body to the left. Jonathan’s grasp snapped, freeing Zach.

Taking this moment to push forward, he raced past the safety who was headed toward him.

He had mere seconds to get to the end zone. The football was headed for him if he was ready or not. Just as he crossed the white line, he turned, raising his hands. It was as if he and Rigby Breeland were in sync. Before he even had a chance to steady his feet, the ball landed right into his hands.

Flipping his body over to protect it, he staggered his stance as a cheer rose up in the stadium.

Goal.

Raising up, he held the ball into the air, pumping his fists in time with the chant.

He’d done it. He’d won the game. His entire team rushed over to him, lifting him onto their shoulders as they paraded him around the field.

This was it. This was what Zachary “the Stud” Stedman lived for.

Once the team set him down, Zach unsnapped his helmet and slipped it from his head. He clapped a few teammates on the shoulders as he made his way to the table where the large Gatorade cooler sat.

“Nice escape,” Jonathan’s voice filled the air.

Zach turned to see Jonathan’s wide grin. They closed hands and then leaned forward where they pounded each other’s shoulder pads. They made a thumping sound.

“I was always too fast for you,” Zach said, reaching out and tousling Jonathan’s hair.

Jonathan dropped his jaw. “Um, no you aren’t. You just got lucky.”

Zach grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with the bright blue liquid. “Lucky or natural born talent like ESPN said last night.” He turned to wink at Jonathan as he downed the liquid and scrunched up the cup. After he threw it—swooshing—into the garbage, he faced Jonathan. “I’d say let’s go again, but I don’t want to school you twice in one night.”

Jonathan chuckled but if he said something in response, Zach didn’t notice. Instead, the familiar, curly haired woman standing a few feet off with a microphone in her hands, talking to a cameraman, distracted him.

He said a quick goodbye to Jonathan as he made his way over to her.

It couldn’t be, could it?

He blinked a few times, trying to clear his sight and get a better look. He’d never expected to see Danielle again. Not since…

He cleared his throat as he shook his head, forcing the feelings and memories of that night eight years ago from his mind. He swore he’d never think about that again. He couldn’t. There was too much pain wrapped up in that memory. It was better to bury it deep down. His parents hung onto the anguish from that night, but Zach preferred to ignore it.

However, the sudden appearance of Danielle didn’t help his resolve to forget the past.

Coach intercepted him before he could approach her. He was talking about some press release that Zach would need to do. But, if Zach were honest with himself, he wasn’t really listening. Instead, he was watching Danielle as she continued speaking into the camera. Every so often, she would tuck her long curls behind her ear and smile.

Zach cleared his throat as he nodded toward his coach, who seemed like he was waiting for a response, and then stepped to the side. The cheering in the stadium had died down as most of the inhabitants had begun moving from their seats, all escaping as fast as they could to their cars, hoping to beat the traffic no doubt.

“Come on, Stedman. Shower time,” Mack yelled and soon, Zach was swallowed up into the herd that was his team.

Even though he fought against it, he couldn’t make it back to Danielle. Realizing that it was a futile struggle, he followed everyone to the showers.

Once he was clean and dressed in his suit, he styled his hair, said a few goodbyes, and headed out of the locker room.

With his duffel bag over his shoulder, he pushed through the doors and out into the hall. The flash of cameras and microphones surrounded him. Everyone wanted to know how he felt about the game and about the amazing tie-breaking touchdown.