Page 7 of Her Second Chance

Though our pledge educator does have a point. We do need to make our house look good, and Gayle is pretty dramatic. I know for a fact she sleeps with her ex after tonight’s social hour, and they get back together for the thousandth time. I’m pretty sure they ended up getting married after college and are now divorced. I think her social media is filled with pictures of them with their two boys and the hashtag #coparentingwins or some other asinine thing. I’m sorry, but this is why I’m not having kids. I’d hate to pretend I like Hunter right now for the sake of some little ones. Plus, kids are way too leaky. No thank you.

When we’re finally dismissed with enough time to primp before social hour, I pull Grace aside. “I have to tell you something that I know is going to sound crazy.”

She rolls her eyes at the death grip I have on her arm. I guess Gayle isn’t the only drama queen. Apparently, I deserve that moniker as well. “What’s with all the drama today, Hannah? I swear you were acting legit psycho after we went to The Bean. And what the hell was up with you sitting with that guy with the spiky hair? He looks like a delinquent who belongs in prison more than he does on a college campus.”

I ignore her dis about Jason. Right now, I have more important things to focus on. Like avoiding Hunter and not doing anything to mess with my future. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. Look, I know this sounds insane, but I’m actually thirty-one. Last night my fiancé broke up with me, so I drank myself to sleep. When I woke up, I was here. In the past with you. That guy you saw me with is the love of my life, who I stupidly let get away. Except this morning was when we first met. I think I was sent back in time to make things right with him.” My words all rush together, and I’m sure she has no idea what I just said. I rub my temples, then remember Grace and I aren’t exactly speaking in the future either. “Well, him and you.”

“Hannah, you sound mental and. . . wait, me?” Her eyes widen and mouth drops open. “Why do you need to make things better with me? Aren’t we besties in the future?” She looks so sad I almost feel guilty for telling her that part.

“Grace, I haven’t spoken to you since junior year when we got into a huge fight. By the time I apologized, the damage was already done.” I don’t tell her what we fought about because the last thing I want is to lose her now. Call me selfish, but I need her to help me get through this. Plus, I’ve missed her. Yeah, I have other friends, but no one compares to Grace. When she left, I lost one of the most important people in my life. I don’t want to repeat that.

She shakes her head. “I don’t buy it. There’s no way you and I stopped being friends. Unless. . . Did you sleep with Cory?” She raises her eyebrows, flaring her nostrils.

I make a face. “Ew, no!”

She crosses her arms. “And what’s wrong with Cory? Do you think you’re too good to sleep with him? He’s better than that derelict you were chatting up earlier.”

I grab her shoulders, shaking her. “Grace, focus. I’m a time traveler stuck in the past.”

She laughs so loudly several of our pledge sisters stop looking in their mirrors to stare at us. Grace circles her finger in the air. “Carry on, ladies. Nothing to see here.” She turns back to me. “Hannah, we got fucked up last night. I’m pretty sure you’re just hungover. Time travel isn’t a real thing.”

“Then how does that explain the fact that I know Gayle is going to sleep with her ex tonight? Or that you and I are going to go to a party and meet up with Jason and his roommate? You’ll leave early to see Cory, and I’m going to go home with Jason where we’ll talk all night?”

She shakes her head. “God, Hannah, you are seriously a prude. Talking all night? Why don’t you lose that v-card already?”

“Grace, focus,” I scold.

“Okay, right. Look, I don’t know what is going on with you, but I promise we’re never going to stop being best friends. That, and I know you’re the same you from yesterday. You’re hungover, not time traveling. That’s what happens when you go to an around the world shot party and end the night at a bar when you’re not a big drinker. This is a hangover. It happens to everyone in college.” She crosses her arms, signaling she’s losing patience with this conversation.

I sigh, realizing I’m not going to get through to Grace. I should’ve known she wouldn’t believe me. Hell, I’m not sure I believe me.

“Good girl,” she says, thinking I’m convinced this is just a hangover. She hands me her purse filled with makeup. “Now, make yourself pretty because we’ve got to get you a date with a Sig Chi tonight. Can’t have you slumming with ole Prison Break from earlier.”

I take the makeup from her. Clearly, Grace is not going to be the ticket out of the past. If I’m stuck here, I might as well make the most of things. I mean, who wouldn’t want to relive the best years of their life?

Right?

* * *

Less than an hour later, the Sig Chi’s stand on the porch serenading us with some ridiculous song to start our social hour with them. My sisters all seem to swoon in unison where I struggle to keep a straight face. I forgot how silly some of this Greek life stuff was. It’s not until they’re walking toward us with roses that I see Hunter.

Shit.

I forgot he was in this part of my past. Even though we ran in the same social circles, he was such an unimportant part of my life until Jason and I stopped dating. Maybe this is what I’m supposed to do here. I’m supposed to keep myself from ending up with Hunter. That should be easy enough. I’ll just avoid him at all costs. Then we never meet, and I never end up in this mess.

When he approaches me with a rose in his hand, his eyes are cast down, so I shove Grace forward, making sure she’s matched with Hunter, and turn to the guy next to him.

“Hi. I’m Hannah,” I say, not even bothering to look at who’s standing in front of me. At this point, anyone’s better than Hunter.

“I’m Brock.” The deep voice sends shivers up my spine, causing my eyes to jerk up to see the man before me.

I take the rose he holds out to me as I try to look him up and down as inconspicuously as possible while I ignore the zing in my belly when our hands meet. He’s tall, like really tall. His dark hair is short and styled to messy perfection. The black polo with our school’s mascot emblazoned on his left pec stretches tight across his muscles. Damn, he’s gorgeous. But it’s more than that. He makes me feel warm, as if I’m bathed in light, with the way he looks at me. My traitorous heart pounds against my sternum.

“Brock Martin?” There’s no way I’m standing in front of one of my favorite NFL players. I mean, I knew he was in school with me, but I’ve never met him before now. He was always so untouchable back in the day. His star was rising while I was falling in love with Jason.

He smiles, and all I want is to make him do it again. “That’s me. Do we know each other?”

“No, but you’re like a big-time football star. Everyone knows you.” Okay, this is a nice twist. I get to be friends with a sexy quarterback and have a second chance with my first love. This I can do.

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