Just Chance Read online

  That was a good enough excuse to make the call.

  Maybe.

  Whatever.

  Boyfriends didn’t need excuses. He was calling because he wanted to, and that was good enough, right? Good enough even for a fake boyfriend… right?

  Frankie dialed Hawk’s number before he could talk himself out of it again, stealing another look at the clock as it started to ring. It was still really early. Did Hawk like to sleep in as much as Frankie did? Or maybe growing up on a ranch meant the guy was used to getting up early…

  If he doesn’t answer by the third ring, I’ll just hang up. Or maybe I should just hang up now…

  “Hello? Frankie?”

  Hawk’s voice sounded deep and sleepy and sexy, and Frankie’s smile finally returned as all of his doubts and worries were replaced with that giddy burst of Hawk-induced excitement that felt almost like a drug.

  “Frankie?” Hawk repeated sounding tense and worried, a belated reminder that even though he might be grinning from ear to ear, Frankie hadn’t actually said anything yet. “Are you there? Is everything okay?”

  Frankie nodded as the words he’d meant to say got stuck in his throat, his heart doing a slow roll in his chest as he willed himself to speak. The realization that Hawk might actually be worried about him made him feel better than he probably should have, but also tugged at Frankie’s conscience for calling and probably waking Hawk up for no particularly good reason.

  “Um, I’m here,” Frankie said, his voice finally cooperating with his brain, even though his throat still felt way too dry and his thoughts were still way too jumbled to actually carry on much of a conversation.

  “Sorry, everything is fine—good, I mean… but did I wake you?”

  “Oh, okay… I’m glad you’re okay.” Hawk’s voice lost the edge of worry that it had taken on, and Frankie could hear him let out a long, slow breath. When he spoke again, it was the same warm, easy-going Hawk that Frankie had become accustomed to. “But no, I wasn’t sleeping… well, not really. So… good morning? What’s up?”

  Frankie nibbled at his lip. “Um, nothing? I mean… I was just calling to say—” To say what, exactly? That I wanted to hear your voice… That I think you’re sexy… “to say that I hope you have a good day.”

  Frankie winced as the words came out of his mouth. I called to say that I hope you have a good day? Really? That’s why I called?

  If Hawk didn’t think he was an idiot after that statement, well… he had to be even nicer than Frankie gave him credit for.

  “O-kay,” Hawk said, sounding a little confused and like he might be laughing. “…thank you. I hope you also have a good day.”

  Oh my God.

  This was not going well. Frankie had definitely made it awkward.

  Great. Fantastic. He hates me.

  “And maybe we could, uh, make some plans for later in the week?” Hawk’s tone had changed from confused to nervous, and the question completely took Frankie by surprise. “I’ve got a friend coming into town on Wednesday but he’s just staying the night. So I thought maybe you and I could… uh… maybe go on a date? On Friday?”

  Oh my God.

  Oh my God, oh my God, ohmyGod.

  He doesn’t hate me. He likes me. He likes me. He wants to go on a date with me.

  Frankie took the phone away from his ear to make sure the call was still connected—to make sure he hadn’t just imagined Hawk Hawkins asking him on a date.

  And nevermind that it was sort of a fake date. That still counted, right?

  “A date? Friday?” Frankie clamped his hand over his mouth before he could ask any other stupid questions. Why was he just repeating random words? As if he hadn’t heard exactly what Hawk had said. Why wasn’t he saying yes, please and jumping for joy? “Yeah, um, that would be…” He swallowed hard and finally—finally—managed to smile as he answered. “That would be great. Thanks for calling.”

  Hawk laughed. “You called me, Frankie. Remember?”

  “Oh my God.” Frankie pulled the covers over his head and prayed that a giant hole would open up under his bed and swallow him. “Right. I did. That’s right.” Get off the phone. Get. Off. The. Phone. “And now I’m gonna go, um, so… thank you… and I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Okay, great.” Hawk was still laughing, but Frankie could barely hear it over his own heartbeat, that was so loud and fast he was probably only seconds away from having a massive coronary and making the conversation even more awkward. “I’ll call you later, then.”

  “Perfect,” Frankie said, finally coming up with a response that was clear and concise and non-cringe-worthy. Now hang up. Quickly. “Bye.”

  He pressed the button to end the call before any other ridiculous words could fly out of his mouth and peeked out from under his covers. The world hadn’t come crashing down around him. A giant hole had not, in fact, opened up beneath him.

  But to know that Hawk still wanted to talk to him, to see him, to keep their fun little game going? It made Frankie feel good, and it validated his feelings that Hawk wasn’t just using Frankie to further his career.

  There had to be a little bit of something else there. A little spark of friendship, or… something.

  Just thinking about it that way made Frankie feel happy—and lucky.

  Now the next few days couldn’t go by quickly enough. Frankie couldn’t wait to get through the week—to get to his date. With Hawk-freaking-Hawkins.

  He sighed and bunched his pillow up under his head.

  Now he could go back to sleep happy.

  Chapter 9

  Hawk

  Hawk was already waiting outside on his front porch when he saw Juan’s rental car pull off the road onto the long driveway. Hawk had planned on picking his friend up from the little regional airport, but Juan had talked him out of it—just barely, and only after reminding Hawk that there were probably plenty of paparazzi still in town who would love to corner him for a statement.

  And since Hawk was under strict instructions from Corbin not to talk to the press—instructions that he had absolutely zero problem with following, for a change—then yeah, probably best if he stayed at the ranch and laid low.

  He walked out to meet Juan as Juan pulled up to the house, the massive linebacker catching Hawk in a crushing bear hug as soon as he squeezed out of the small rental. It was only after Hawk sucked in a sharp breath that Juan let him go, backing off with a scared look.

  “Oh shit, man,” Juan said, reaching out like he wanted to help, but then hesitating, clearly unsure of how he should go about it. “I completely forgot about your ribs. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” Hawk lied, catching his breath and even managing what he hoped was a convincing smile. That hug had hurt like hell, actually, but he didn’t want to make Juan feel guilty. “It’s okay. Still just a little tender, that’s all.”

  Juan’s brows knitted together, and Hawk could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t completely buying it, but thankfully Juan didn’t question him any further on the injury.

  Hawk was on the mend, and that was the story he wanted everyone—including his best friend—to go with. He just couldn’t take any chances of anything else getting back to the Falcon’s owners.

  “Come on inside and grab a beer,” Hawk said, eager to change the subject. “We can come back out and get your bags and stuff later.”

  “Sounds good, man.” Juan grinned and made an exaggerated show of looking around. “Where’s this boyfriend of yours, anyway? I was hoping he’d be here so I could meet him.”

  Hawk smiled at the mention of Frankie and thought back to their last conversation—the unexpected but really nice wake-up call he’d received from Frankie the day before.

  “He’s working today and tomorrow,” Hawk said, giving his friend a half-shrug. “I was gonna try to maybe arrange something so you guys could meet each other, but Frankie is, uh… a little shy. And busy. He’s got a lot going on.”

  And whi
le that was mostly true—Frankie was definitely a busy guy—Hawk might have been stretching it a little with the shy bit.

  He grinned again as he remembered how much his parents had loved Frankie after he had turned on the charm at dinner the week before.

  And how Frankie hadn’t really seemed shy at all—with his big smile and easy-going attitude—when Hawk had first met him at the hospital.

  But Frankie had confessed to being nervous about the dinner, and Hawk was pretty sure Frankie had had another bout of nerves on the phone the day before. And even though seeing Frankie push his nerves and doubts aside and let his naturally warm personality shine through was legitimately the most adorable thing Hawk had ever seen in his life, he still didn’t want to put his boyfriend—fake boyfriend, he reminded himself—on the spot by making him sit through an impromptu interrogation from Juan.

  “That’s too bad,” Juan said, giving Hawk a funny look. “Because, man… I’ve never seen you so sprung before.”

  Hawk snorted as he ushered his friend into the house. “What? No…” But then he caught himself smiling again and was glad Juan wasn’t looking back to see him school his features into something a little more neutral. “I’m not sprung, I’m just… what makes you say that, anyway?”

  “You’ve been smiling ever since you said his name, dude.” Juan walked into the living room and flopped onto the sofa, then looked up at Hawk and burst into laughter. “You’re still smiling.”

  “No I’m not…” Hawk looked away, but he knew it was too late.

  There had apparently been no point in going for a more serious look after all. It clearly hadn’t worked. He couldn’t help it, though, especially when he thought about Frankie and how easily he smiled. That shit was contagious.

  “It’s okay, man.” Juan shook his head, still smiling himself. “I remember what it’s like to start dating someone new—how everything they do seems like the best thing ever. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  Hawk rolled his eyes. “It’s not even like that, Juan. For real.”

  And even though he could tell from his friend’s expression that Juan didn’t believe him, it really wasn’t like that with Frankie. Not at all. For one thing, they weren’t even really dating, no matter how many times Hawk had needed to remind himself of that fact already. No matter how much, the few times they’d been together so far, it might have felt like they were a real couple. All it really meant was that the two of them had really good chemistry together. Or they enjoyed each other’s company. Or… something.

  It definitely didn’t mean that Hawk was sprung.

  Hawk walked into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers, glad that both of his parents were out of the house for the day so they wouldn’t overhear what had already been said—or anything that might still be said.

  Juan called after him, his tone still a mixture of taunting and disbelief. “Okay fine, bro. For real, then. What’s it like?”

  Hawk grabbed the beers, popped the tops and then closed the refrigerator. He hesitated for just a second before walking back into the living room, though. How much was he really prepared to tell Juan? Corbin had been pretty adamant that Hawk didn’t breathe a word of the arrangement with Frankie to anyone—not to family, not to friends, not to anyone.

  But Juan was like a brother. Ever since they’d met back when they’d both been rookies for the Falcons, they’d forged a connection, a bond that had gotten Hawk through some tough times in the years since then. And something like this? Something that was so big it affected every single aspect of Hawk’s life? Yeah, there was no way he wasn’t going to tell his closest friend at least some of the details.

  After all, it was sort of a lot to keep bottled up inside his own head. And more importantly, Hawk had never lied to Juan. It just didn’t feel right to start now.

  Hawk walked back into the living room where Juan was still sprawled on the couch, handing off one of the bottles of beer before easing himself into the nearby armchair with only the slightest wince at what the action did to his ribs. He gulped down a big drink of the ice-cold beer and then took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth, but… how much of the truth?

  He really wasn’t sure how much would be too much. Hawk would just have to see what Juan would do with the information he was about to receive.

  “It’s like…” Hawk slowly let let out the breath he’d been holding and then took another one. “It’s like, um… business.”

  Juan cocked his head to the side and waited, but when Hawk didn’t immediately offer any other details, he finally prodded for some more information. “What do you mean it’s like business? What does that even mean?” Then his eyes went wide. “Like… Pretty Woman, Julia Roberts and Richard Gere kind of business?”

  “What? No… no.” Hawk shook his head as he realized what Juan was getting at. “Hell no, man. What the fuck? It’s not like that.”

  Again, he silently thanked God and sweet baby Jesus and all his lucky stars that his parents hadn’t been there to hear that question. Or—God forbid—that Frankie had been there to overhear it.

  “Hey, I didn’t think so,” Juan put his hands up in a mock surrender. “You’re the one who made it sound all… weird and shit. I’m just trying to figure out what you meant.”

  “Okay, well, I didn’t mean that. It’s just business-like because there’s an NDA and whatnot… but really it’s more like, uh—” What was it like, again? Fuck. Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to open this can of worms with Juan, after all. But it was too late to stop now. “More like two friends playing a prank.”

  “Mhm,” Juan nodded, but his brow was furrowed in a way that Hawk could tell meant he still didn’t have a clue what Hawk was talking about. “And who are you playing a prank on? With this… friend?”

  Hawk shrugged. “The paparazzi… the team owners, the coach… pretty much everyone, I guess.”

  Juan nodded again, but then went back to shaking his head. “And… why are you doing this? Nothing is really making much sense yet, man, sorry.”

  It wasn’t making much sense to Hawk, either, now that he was saying it out loud. But it was a good plan. And it was working, as far as he could tell. Corbin had seemed pleased with the way the gossip sites and blogs and whoever else had been thrown off the trail of his injury in favor of speculating about who Frankie was and how long they’d been dating.

  “The thing is,” Hawk gave a half-shrug, “Corbin thought it would be a good idea to have some kind of distraction from my injury. You know how many games I’ve already had to miss these past couple of seasons, and with contract negotiations coming up…”

  “Oh, I see now.” Juan nodded slowly. “Now it’s starting to make sense. So this little prank is meant to save your ass until you can get a new contract? And this boyfriend of yours… this friend, I mean… is he someone you dated before? An actual friend?”

  Hawk had become so used to thinking of Frankie as his boyfriend—that’s really all he’d known the man as, for the short time they’d actually known each other—that it was weird to think of him in any other way. Frankie felt like more than just a friend. And of course, he didn’t feel at all like an ex…

  “Yeah, it’s definitely meant to save my ass. It would be bad PR for the owners to cut me from the team when I’m out in the papers getting all this good attention, right?” Hawk didn’t wait for him to answer. He knew Juan wouldn’t argue with that point, anyway. It was the one rock-solid part of the plan, and it had been just another testament to Corbin’s genius at that sort of stuff—just another reminder of why Hawk had kept his otherwise difficult-to-work-with agent around for so many years. “And Frankie is… a friend, yeah. He’s not an ex, though.”

  Hawk could see the gears turning in Juan’s head as he added up all the parts of Hawk’s story. Even though Hawk hadn’t initially offered the best explanation of what was going on, it did feel good to at least get some of it off his chest. And maybe Juan could help poke some holes in the plan—help to
see where Hawk needed to strengthen his story or come up with something better.

  “So all that smiling, all that lighting up when you mentioned his name…” Juan narrowed his eyes. “You can’t tell me that was all an act. I’ve known you for years, and your ass can’t act like that.”

  Hawk snorted and took another drink of his beer before responding. “Maybe I can. I do have some skills that don’t involve throwing a football, you know.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Juan smirked. “But if that kind of acting is one of those skills, you’re in the wrong line of work, my brother. You should have some Oscars and Golden Globes instead of all those football trophies in the corner there,” he nodded toward the large trophy case—or what Hawk referred to as the Wall of Shame, where his parents had lined up every accolade and honorable mention Hawk had received since birth.

  “Whatever.” Hawk rolled his eyes. “If you ever do meet Frankie, you’ll see. He’s just a nice guy. You can’t help but smile when you’re around him. My parents love him, for sure.”

  “Hawk, you’re like a brother to me. There’s nothing I like more than hanging out with you. But,” Juan shook his head and laughed to himself a little before he continued, “I’ve never, ever smiled like that when I’ve thought about the two of us hanging out playing Madden. And I’ve never seen you act that way, either.”

  “Whatever, man,” Hawk repeated. But he knew Juan was right. Hawk didn’t light up like that when he thought about anyone else. And it wasn’t just because of his probably-not-so-great acting skills, either. “I never said I don’t like hanging out with Frankie. And I did say this prank was kind of fun.”

  Even now, even after all the stress and awkward explanations of the previous few minutes, Hawk could still feel the corners of his mouth twitching, starting to turn up into what would’ve already been a smile if he hadn’t been trying so hard not to prove Juan’s point.

  “Right,” Juan gave him a slow grin. “So like I said, you’re sprung.”

  Hawk just shook his head, but didn’t answer, and didn’t bother trying to hide his smile anymore, either. It had been a losing battle, anyway.