Just Chance Page 15

  “Awesome.” Hawk stood up. “Now… should we start cleaning?”

  Frankie laughed. “You were serious about that? You’re gonna stay and help?”

  “Of course.” Hawk winked. “You’ve got me for as long as you want me.”

  Frankie’s heart leapt a little at the words, and he had to remind himself of what they were talking about.

  He didn’t mean it like that.

  Be smart. Stop with the fantasy.

  But doing the smart thing wasn’t necessarily easy, and when Hawk looked at him again and smiled? Like he was just waiting to agree to anything Frankie might ask?

  Yeah, that was more than enough to keep the fantasy going. It wouldn’t hurt to do that for a little longer, right?

  At least, not too much.

  Chapter 15

  Hawk

  Hawk looked over at Frankie as the plane rolled to a stop. Or more specifically, at Frankie’s hand, white-knuckled and clamped onto the armrest that separated their seats for dear life.

  “I should’ve warned you about the turbulence,” Hawk said, feeling a pang of guilt as he covered Frankie’s hand with his own. “It’s sometimes worse on a short flight like this, where it seems like all you’re really doing is getting ready to take off and then getting ready to land.”

  “Oh, no worries,” Frankie said, even though the look on his face suggested that he’d been very worried. “It wasn’t too bad, I guess.”

  The fact that Frankie still hadn’t let go of the armrest despite them having been on the ground for several minutes already told a different story. Hawk was going to have to make sure that they flew somewhere further than Atlanta together sometime, and on a jet big enough to have actual first-class seating—not the makeshift business-class of the small plane they were on now. Hell, maybe they’d even take a private jet next time. Whatever it took to show Frankie that flying didn’t have to always feel like a near-death experience.

  Or really, just to be with Frankie some more.

  “I promise it gets better from here,” Hawk said, standing up and moving aside to let Frankie out from the window seat. “And at least we’ll be the first ones off.”

  “Getting better already,” Frankie said, finally managing a smile, even though it was pretty clear he wasn’t joking as he quickly moved to the exit. “We just go down these stairs? To the, um, runway?”

  Hawk grinned and pointed just beyond the wing of the plane, where a black limo was idling. “Our car is waiting over there. Everyone else will have to wait until they attach the jet bridge.” He followed Frankie down the narrow steps from the plane. “But we get the red-carpet treatment here.”

  The wide smile that Hawk had become accustomed to finally made an appearance on Frankie’s face, and Hawk relaxed a little, hopeful that Frankie might actually be starting to enjoy the trip.

  “I’m not even sure what ‘red-carpet treatment’ means,” Frankie said. “But if it involves fewer planes and more limos, I think I’m gonna like it.”

  That was what Hawk had been hoping to hear. “Champagne and limousines from here on out,” he said, taking Frankie’s hand as they walked to the car. “And we’ll work on the plane thing. I promise.”

  “I believe you,” Frankie said, looking like he meant it. Which felt… good.

  Really good.

  Hawk could get used to being someone Frankie believed in.

  The limo driver nodded and greeted the two of them warmly, holding the door open for them. “Welcome to Atlanta, gentlemen. My name is David, and I’ll be taking you to your hotel today.”

  Frankie nodded, but looked back at Hawk before he got into the car. “Our, um, luggage?” he whispered, glancing back toward the plane. “Do we need to wait, or…”

  Hawk could tell from the look on Frankie’s face that waiting for their suitcases was the last thing he wanted to do. In fact, he was pretty sure Frankie would almost rather leave them behind than stay at the airport for even a minute longer than absolutely necessary.

  It was kind of cute.

  Not, of course, that he wanted Frankie to be nervous. Now that they were back on the ground, it should be easier to put Frankie’s mind at ease.

  “No waiting,” Hawk reassured him, putting his hand on Frankie’s lower back to guide him into the limo. “Don’t worry about that stuff. Those suitcases will find their way to the hotel. Red-carpet treatment does not involve hauling around luggage.”

  “Oh, okay—wow,” Frankie’s voice was muffled only slightly as he climbed into the car, but his excited tone made up for it. “How is it this big in here?” He was looking at Hawk wide-eyed and running his hand over the leather seat next to him. Before Hawk could even answer, Frankie pointed at the ice bucket and crystal glasses a few feet away. “And way over there—is that seriously champagne? For us?”

  It was good to see Frankie’s flying phobia receding, and watching him get so excited about the kind of service that Hawk had gotten used to over the last few years was both adorable and funny… and refreshing. Hawk remembered the first time he’d sat in a limo. He must have been just as wide-eyed and full of wonder… That seemed like forever ago, though.

  Except, seeing it again through Frankie’s eyes, it kind of didn’t, too.

  “Yep,” Hawk answered, grinning at what he could already tell was going to be one of the most enjoyable limo rides he’d had in years. “Just like I said—champagne and limos.” Then he added with a wink, “Only the best for my boyfriend.”

  Frankie laughed, just the reaction Hawk had been hoping for.

  Seeing Frankie happy and carefree—especially after watching him work so hard during the past week that Ethan and Jack had been gone from the flower shop—just reaffirmed in Hawk’s mind that he’d made the right decision in persuading Frankie to come to Atlanta with him. In fact, the more time he spent with Frankie, the more convinced he became that their whole fake-boyfriend thing was turning out to be a success.

  Not that he’d ever really had any doubts about it—well, not major ones, anyway—but it was still reassuring to find that they meshed so well.

  If it wouldn’t have been so damn complicated, he would’ve asked Frankie to make things official—for real—in an instant. But now… there was paperwork and there were contracts and Corbin—not to mention the strain that all of Hawk’s mandatory traveling would put on a brand new “real” relationship.

  And that didn’t even factor in the intense paparazzi interest in the two of them.

  It was one thing to brush off the various relationship-stressors while they played pretend, but Hawk wondered how well Frankie would deal with the pressure if it had all been real.

  Frankie had already scampered across to the other side of the limo and poured a couple of glasses of champagne, and when he handed one to Hawk, it was a more than pleasant interruption to the turn Hawk’s thoughts had taken.

  “Should we do a toast?” Frankie asked.

  “Absolutely.” Hawk raised his glass. “Go for it.”

  Frankie looked thoughtful for a few seconds, and then smiled again, his cheeks flushing just a little as Hawk watched and waited.

  “To us having fun in Atlanta.” Frankie nibbled at his lip for a moment, then added, “And to you, for being the best fake boyfriend a guy could ever hope for.”

  Hawk reached out and clinked his glass against Frankie, but felt a pang of regret at hearing the “fake” part out loud. It only served to bring the thoughts he’d just pushed aside right back to the front of his mind. Still, it was the reality of the situation, and he was happy that it was working out so well… so did he really have a right to feel that much regret?

  It wouldn’t be fair to Frankie to try and flip the script now, would it?

  No, it wouldn’t. Hawk needed to keep on keeping on, and not rock the boat. They had a good thing going, and he was determined to make sure he held up his part of the bargain. And while he was at it, he would also do his very best to make sure Frankie’s toast wasn’t in vai
n.

  They would have fun in Atlanta. Hawk was sure of it.

  He just couldn’t let any of his real emotions get in the way of their fake relationship.

  “To fun in Atlanta,” Hawk said, taking a long, slow sip of champagne. “And… to us.”

  For now.

  Arriving at the hotel brought on a new round of excitement from Frankie. Maybe it was infectious, or maybe a little champagne had helped to lighten Hawk’s mood, but he found himself almost giddy with excitement, just from watching Frankie adjust to his glitzy surroundings. The plush accommodations were another thing Hawk had sort of gotten used to taking for granted lately.

  Not this trip, though.

  There was security outside the hotel entrance to keep the crowd of paparazzi at bay, but with the whole team arriving over the weekend, the photographers had been having a field day. Hawk braced himself, determined not to let it get overwhelming for Frankie again, but the moment they’d climbed out of the limo, Frankie smiled and waved at them like a pro, without any coaching from Hawk.

  Hawk grinned. Maybe Frankie could get used to it.

  Frankie let Hawk take a little bit of a lead as they walked hand-in-hand, but there was no denying that he was holding his own—even when everyone within earshot had seemed to be calling out his name. He morphed right back into wide-eyed tourist mode as soon as they got inside the hotel, though, stopping in his tracks to watch the glass elevators as they ascended the other side of the lobby.

  “This sure beats the motel in Bridgewater,” Frankie whispered, the way he was clinging to Hawk’s hand making Hawk feel ten feet tall.

  “Yeah, it sure does.” Hawk guided him toward the front desk. “Let’s get checked in and then we can do some fun stuff. Sightseeing or… uh, whatever you wanna do.”

  “Okay, great. I’m down for whatever—”

  “Mister Hawkins, how wonderful to see you this afternoon.” Hawk felt Frankie’s grip tighten as the booming voice from across the lobby made them both jump a little. “And with a visitor today, I see.”

  A quick glance refreshed Hawk’s memory. It was the hotel manager—a nice enough guy, but definitely a busybody.

  Even though most of the team lived in the surrounding area, the Falcons usually stayed in the hotel during training weeks and on team business. It just made press conferences and public events easier to coordinate.

  And it worked out perfectly in this case, since Hawk’s condo was out of commission.

  “Welcome, welcome to Atlanta,” the man said, and Hawk couldn’t help but notice that his eyes roamed over Frankie from head to toe as he approached the two of them.

  Hawk felt a stab of… not jealousy, exactly, but… there was definitely something he didn’t like about the way the man was eyeing Frankie. Even though Hawk had stayed at the hotel plenty of times in the past, he’d never had to deal with the manager one-on-one for longer than a couple of minutes… and never with a boyfriend in tow.

  “You must be the young man we’ve all been reading about,” the manager said, taking Frankie’s free hand and pumping it a little too enthusiastically before turning back to Hawk. “Your agent has already called ahead to make sure everything is in order for you. He only specified one suite of rooms, though—with one king-size bed.” The man glanced down at Hawk and Frankie’s still-joined hands. “But I assume that won’t be a problem…”

  Shit.

  Hawk hadn’t even thought of the fact that they’d need to share a room for the sake of keeping up appearances—and it definitely hadn’t occurred to him that they’d be sharing a bed.

  Yeah, this was a problem. A big problem.

  Although he really didn’t mind sharing a room with Frankie—not at all, actually—the last thing he wanted to do was to make Frankie uncomfortable.

  Hawk silently cursed himself for not doing a better job of thinking things through.

  “That won’t be a problem at all,” Frankie said, giving a brighter-than-usual smile and surprising Hawk as he lifted their hands and brushed his lips across Hawk’s knuckles. “Will it, babe?”

  “No, uh…” Hawk blinked, but recovered quickly and mirrored Frankie’s smile. “Not a problem at all.”

  “Wonderful, just wonderful.” The man nodded agreeably and handed Hawk a room key. “You’re on the fourteenth floor, with a lovely view. Just let us know if there’s anything we can do for you, okay?”

  Frankie spoke up again before Hawk had a chance. “Okay, great. Thanks a lot.” Then, as he pulled Hawk toward the elevators, he looked back and added, “Wonderful to meet you.”

  Hawk snickered as they approached the elevators. “That was just lovely, wasn’t it?” he whispered.

  Frankie tossed a sideways glance back at the man, who had already gone on to accost someone else. “Sorry.” He shook his head a little and wrinkled his nose. “There was just something… slimy about the way he looked at me. And at you, too…”

  Hawk snorted and had to look away before it turned into an actual laugh. He knew Frankie wasn’t the jealous type, but it was definitely cute seeing him get a little possessive.

  “I know exactly what you mean. I felt it, too.” Hawk shrugged as he followed Frankie onto the elevator. “I was more worried about the sharing-a-room thing.” And the sharing-a-bed thing. “But you handled it like a boss.”

  Frankie laughed. “I wasn’t expecting it, either, to be honest. But I wasn’t gonna let that guy see us sweat—especially if he’s been following the tabloids. I’m not too worried about the room thing, though.” He looked up at Hawk and cocked his head to the side. “Unless you are?”

  Hawk put his hands around Frankie’s waist and pulled him close, not caring—and maybe even hoping just a little—that the people down in the lobby below had a full view of their public display of affection through the glass walls of the elevator.

  He’d momentarily taken his mind off the main objective—to make sure Frankie had a good time in Atlanta—but Hawk was focused now. And if Frankie wasn’t worried, Hawk wasn’t gonna let on that he was, either.

  In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he was kind of excited to be so close to Frankie for the overnight trip.

  “Not worried at all,” Hawk said, meaning it more and more as Frankie’s body pressed against him. “I just wanna make sure you’re happy.”

  “I am,” Frankie said, his voice muffled as he leaned into Hawk’s shoulder. “I really am.”

  Hawk smiled and looked out over Frankie’s head to the lobby below. Frankie was playing his part perfectly—even better than Hawk could’ve hoped for. No matter what else happened while they were in Atlanta, Hawk was more determined than ever to make sure Frankie had a good time.

  He deserved that much. Hell, he deserved a lot more.

  The question was… would Hawk ever be in a position to give it to him?

  Chapter 16

  Frankie

  Frankie had only been in Atlanta for a couple of hours, but he was already light-years away from his comfort zone. Even getting to Atlanta—boarding a plane for the first time while trying not to think about all of the horrific things he’d seen on the internet during the previous couple of days when he’d been “researching” flying—had been a struggle. But then the limo, and the fancy hotel—not to mention the little bit of attitude he’d felt bubbling up inside when that manager had given him and Hawk the stink-eye—were all so foreign to him that it really felt like he was living someone else’s life.

  And he was, in a way.

  Hawk’s life.

  Frankie had barely even had time to peek inside the enormous suite of rooms that he’d be sharing with Hawk before they’d been whisked away again—this time in a big, black SUV—to some sort of press conference or photo op or… something. Frankie still wasn’t super clear on the details. Whatever it was, as soon as they’d walked in, he’d been ushered to the side of a room that was filled with reporters and football wives while Hawk and the rest of the team took their places up front
on a makeshift stage.

  It was strange seeing Hawk up there—looking and acting like… well, like a celebrity. He was smiling for pictures and bantering back and forth with his teammates and the reporters like he didn’t even notice the press of cameras and people and noise and attention that swirled all around him.

  If the stress of Hawk’s whirlwind life affected him at all, Frankie couldn’t tell. He looked completely relaxed and in control, handling it all with a bit of cockiness and swagger that he didn’t normally show when he was alone with Frankie.

  Frankie found it fascinating to watch him in action.

  He also found it pretty hot to see Hawk like that, if he was being honest.

  A gorgeous woman with hair that was a little too blonde and proportions that were a little too improbable squeezed Frankie’s arm, nodding toward the football players. “Your man is working this crowd, honey,” she whispered. “You’re so lucky to have him all to yourself… not that I’m jealous, mind you… but take it from a woman who’s been married to a baller for a lot of years—Hawk Hawkins is a catch.”

  Frankie could only smile. It was sort of a strange compliment, but she was right. Hawk was a catch. One that would surely make some guy very happy. Someday.

  “He is pretty great, isn’t he?” Frankie whispered back, still smiling while he tried to get rid of the thought of Hawk making some other guy happy.

  Someone who wasn’t Frankie.

  Someone Hawk was in a real relationship with.

  Nope.

  Not gonna go there.

  Not. Gonna. Go. There.

  The whole point of Frankie even being in Atlanta was to be supportive of Hawk’s career and to be seen and photographed happy and smiling. Not whiny and angsty. That wasn’t part of the deal. That wasn’t in the contract.

  “We’re gonna have to get you a jersey made, you know,” the lady continued. “We’ll put something cute on the back. What do you think?” She didn’t wait for a response. “What size do you wear? Probably a small? Medium? I’m so used to a linebacker’s body that you look tiny, but…” She squinted and looked Frankie up and down. “I suppose you’re probably average height for a guy.”