Just Chance Page 16

  Frankie nodded, then shrugged. Was this even a real conversation? How was he supposed to answer that?

  “I’m Olivia, by the way,” she said, squeezing his arm again. “My husband is Darrell.” She paused and raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Darrell Stewart.”

  “Oh, right!” Frankie nodded emphatically, even though he would’ve been hard-pressed to tell Darrell Stewart from Daryl Hannah. “Sorry, my brain is just somewhere else today. First time in Atlanta and all…”

  She gasped. “You’ve never been to Atlanta?” Her voice had gotten progressively louder, and several nearby heads turned at her surprised question. “How is that even possible? Where are you from, honey?”

  Frankie smiled nervously and nibbled at his lip until she was the only one paying attention to him again. “I, uh… Bridgewater? You’ve probably never heard of it, uh, Olivia. But yeah, I don’t leave there much… or… not before this weekend, anyway.”

  “We’re gonna have to show you the sights,” she said in a matter-of-fact way that made Frankie wonder if he even had a choice in the matter. “Shopping. Dinner. Maybe a show. I insist.”

  He didn’t know what he would do if she really did insist. Frankie was pretty sure that he could think of a hundred other ways he’d rather spend the day, though. She was nice enough, but… she was sort of a lot. And he knew it would just be a matter of time before she got around to asking relationship questions about him and Hawk. He could already see the wheels spinning.

  “Um, I don’t know…” Frankie shrugged. “I’m only here for the night, and… Hawk, um—”

  “Ah,” she nodded and got a big smile on her face. “Hawk wants you all to himself tonight, doesn’t he?”

  Frankie felt his eyes go wide and his face heat up as his brain nearly short-circuited trying to find the right answer. Then, as if in a bad dream—no, a nightmare—everyone in the room turned and looked at him. Not just a few heads this time, but every single person from one side of the room to the other had swiveled in their chairs to face him.

  It wasn’t until he heard a collective happy sigh from the other football wives and girlfriends around him that he realized Hawk had said something—was currently saying something—about him from the stage.

  “—and it’s all thanks to Frankie, my wonderful boyfriend.” Hawk was looking over at him, smiling happily and seemingly oblivious to Frankie’s mortification. “He really has been the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, and I think the good place I’m at mentally will be reflected in my performance this season. You’ll see.”

  Oh.

  Okay.

  Frankie reminded himself to breathe. Everyone was still looking at him, but they were smiling warmly—much like Hawk still was. It slowly started to register in Frankie’s brain that they hadn’t all turned to look at him to hear his answer to Olivia’s embarrassing question. They weren’t all eavesdropping to hear whether or not Hawk, in fact, wanted Frankie all to himself that night.

  Thank God.

  Thank.

  God.

  Frankie exhaled a long breath and gave a faint smile in response to the hundred pairs of eyeballs that were still watching him. Then, remembering why he was there and mustering enough playful showmanship to give Hawk a run for his money, Frankie looked up at him and blew a kiss.

  The room erupted in cheers as Hawk mimed catching it and then returned the gesture.

  All of the stress and the panic Frankie had been feeling just moments before simply evaporated—all thanks to that sexy, wonderful man on the stage who was still looking at Frankie as if they were the only two people in the room.

  Olivia slung her arm around his shoulders and leaned in again, but Frankie barely noticed. “I think he loves you,” she said, laughing. “I think they all do.”

  And as much as Frankie wished it was true, it was still nice to hear it.

  Still fun to pretend.

  “I think we’re gonna need a little more champagne.” Frankie grinned and turned his glass up, swallowing the rest of his drink in a decidedly unrefined way. He didn’t care, though. It had been a crazy day, and the champagne was good. “Mine is gone already. Again.”

  Hawk laughed and got up from the plush couch where they’d been sitting to go and pour two fresh glasses, giving Frankie a delicious view of his ass. Frankie grinned, possibly just the tiniest bit tipsy, then looked around the sitting room—propping his feet up on a coffee table that looked more expensive than any piece of furniture he owned.

  He’d never been in a hotel room that had more than a bed and a bathroom before, but this suite was bigger than his apartment back in Bridgewater… and a lot nicer. He was definitely planning on enjoying every luxurious nook and cranny of it. In fact, he’d already had to stop himself from taking his champagne straight back to the marble bathtub that looked like it could comfortably seat a party of six.

  Maybe later.

  Definitely later.

  For now, though, he was pretty happy just having a little one-on-one time with Hawk. A little quiet one-on-one time.

  “I wish you didn’t have to go back to Bridgewater so soon,” Hawk said, returning to the couch and handing Frankie a new, full glass of champagne. Could the man be any more perfect? “I’d love the chance to show you around Atlanta sometime.”

  “Is that an invitation to come back… sometime?” Frankie clamped a hand over his mouth and could feel his cheeks start to heat up. Damn the champagne. “I mean… I didn’t mean that… I was just—”

  “Yes,” Hawk said, cutting him off with a laugh as he sat down next to Frankie again. “I’d be happy for you to come up here with me anytime. All the time.” Hawk shook his head as he took a sip from his glass. “Did you see the way everyone was looking at you today? You killed it with the crowd.”

  “Oh my God,” Frankie snorted. “I felt like I was dying. Everyone was looking, and just… watching… and then Olivia—”

  Hawk’s laughter cut him off again, but what caught Frankie’s attention was the way Hawk leaned in and squeezed his shoulder, bringing their faces so close together that it made Frankie temporarily forget what they had been talking about.

  “When I saw her talking to you, I wanted to like… come rescue you or send smoke signals or something,” Hawk said, still laughing a little as he scooted closer and put his arm around Frankie.

  Now he wasn’t just leaning in… and their faces weren’t that close just by accident.

  And even though Hawk’s tone was lighthearted, the way he was looking at Frankie? Yeah, it sort of took his breath away.

  Frankie shrugged and nibbled at his lip, doing his best to stay focused on the conversation. “She seemed pretty nice, I guess… in her way,” he managed, not thinking about whether or not Hawk was going to kiss him.

  At least, not much.

  “Yeah, that pretty much sums up Olivia. Nice… in her way.” Hawk cocked his head to the side and squinted a little. “What are you thinking about right now?”

  Frankie felt his eyes go wide as he shook his head. “Um, nothing? Why?”

  He took a big, long drink of champagne and tried to pretend not to notice the way Hawk was looking at him—all skeptical and amused and too sexy for his own good.

  Hawk raised an eyebrow but then shrugged it off. “Okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But… you were sort of nibbling on your lip just now.”

  “I, um, don’t remember doing that?” Frankie tried to seem nonchalant, but he was pretty sure from the growing smile on Hawk’s face that he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “Are you sure I was, um… nibbling my lip?”

  Frankie knew for sure that Hawk could see right through him, and now he wished he’d just come out and said what he’d been thinking about—about how he liked having Hawk so close. About how it made him feel… nice. About champagne and traveling and wanting to do all the things with Hawk.

  About kissing.

  Hawk was still looking at him like a piece of candy
, and that wasn’t helping the situation.

  Not. At. All.

  Frankie started to nibble at his lip, but then caught himself and tried to cover it by taking another drink. Hawk’s sudden burst of laughter was enough to know that he’d been caught.

  Again.

  As soon as Frankie had taken the glass away from his lips, Hawk reached out and put a finger on Frankie’s cheek, turning his head so they were facing each other—looking into each other’s eyes.

  Frankie swallowed hard.

  Oh, God. Oh, God, ohGod.

  There was no way he was getting out of this gracefully. He’d had just enough champagne to guarantee that his mouth wouldn’t cooperate with his brain.

  “What’s going on in that beautiful mind?” Hawk asked as he lowered his hand, his voice so low and sweet and sexy that it sent a shiver through Frankie’s body. “I really do wanna know.”

  Frankie nodded, then blinked. What were they even talking about? Did it matter? He could see Hawk’s lips moving, but all Frankie could focus on was the way Hawk’s eyes were searching his, as if he already knew all the things Frankie had been thinking about.

  At least Hawk wasn’t touching him anymore—not that Hawk’s touch was a bad thing, of course—but it at least made it easier for Frankie to try and think.

  “I, um…” Frankie swallowed again, giving his glass of champagne a sideways glance. Maybe more would help? No… probably not. That probably wouldn’t help at all. “I was just thinking about you. Us.”

  Oh, God.

  Oh, damn.

  That thought was supposed to stay inside my head. Damn the champagne.

  Hawk didn’t look like he was bothered, though. He was still smiling, and nodding slowly as he inched even closer. “Us? What about us?”

  Hawk’s low voice was barely above a whisper, and it made Frankie’s body do that whole shiver thing again—which really made him want to just throw caution to the wind and climb into Hawk’s lap.

  But no.

  That was another champagne thing.

  Slowly, carefully, he set his half-full glass down on the coffee table. “I think I’ve had enough of that. Maybe too much…”

  Hawk grinned, but set his glass aside, too. Then he repeated the question that Frankie was sort of hoping he’d forgotten about. “What about us, Frankie?”

  Frankie wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. Were they really going to have this conversation? Now? It was probably not a good idea. Probably definitely not. It wasn’t in the contract for Frankie to have feelings for Hawk, but… that ship had sort of sailed.

  Now he just had to figure out what to actually tell Hawk.

  “Nothing super important,” Frankie began, making a very conscious effort not to nibble at his lip again, since that’s what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. That and the still-very-tempting champagne that was sitting just out of arm’s reach. “Just… that I like hanging out with you, doing things with you. And today—even though it was really nerve-wracking at times—sort of made me feel… I don’t know… special, I guess.”

  “You are special.” Hawk took Frankie’s hand and covered it with both of his own. “I knew that from the moment we met. I could see it. I could feel it. I never would’ve asked you to do this—any of this—if I hadn’t recognized that special something inside of you. And I’m glad you decided to go for it, to do all of this with me, even though I know it was sort of a crazy, half-baked plan in the beginning.”

  “It still is sort of crazy,” Frankie said, feeling a little more at ease just from listening to Hawk’s mellow voice… but he was also feeling something else from those words. Warm and fuzzy and floaty and more than a little turned on.

  Okay, maybe a lot turned on.

  “Is it bad that I don’t want it to end?” Hawk asked, slowly rubbing his thumb over Frankie’s knuckles as he leaned in even closer. “That I’m glad we’re in this together? Is it dumb to feel that way?”

  Frankie opened his mouth to speak, but had to resort to shaking his head a little when no words came out. Once he finally did find his voice again, there was a tremor in it that he couldn’t blame solely on the champagne this time.

  “If it is dumb, then I’m dumb, too. Because I feel the same way.”

  Hawk lifted his hand and moved it to Frankie’s shoulder, pulling him closer… leaning in even further. And then their lips met, and the rush of euphoria and relief and excitement told Frankie that it wasn’t dumb at all to feel that way. It wasn’t bad or wrong or any of those things. He opened his mouth to Hawk and felt those big, strong hands moving over his body, and everything about the moment was exactly right.

  Better than right.

  It was perfect, and there was nowhere else Frankie would rather be.

  Chapter 17

  Hawk

  Hawk hadn’t planned on kissing Frankie, but really, he hadn’t planned on a lot of things when it came to Frankie… starting with having a boyfriend in the first place.

  Pretend boyfriend.

  Perfect boyfriend.

  Every time he was around, he found himself doing things that he hadn’t intended and thinking things he hadn’t anticipated—feeling things that he hadn’t thought it was possible for him to feel. Things he might have scoffed at in the past. But now? Relaxing in the hotel with just enough champagne in his system to let his guard down completely, Hawk found himself welcoming those feelings.

  Wanting more.

  More than what he should want. More than what was fair to expect. More than he could possibly bring himself to ask for.

  But even though he probably shouldn’t, given the complications of their faux-relationship—and even though he hadn’t asked—he was still kissing Frankie.

  And better yet, Frankie was still kissing him back.

  More than just kissing him back, actually. Frankie was melting into Hawk, leaning into him and touching him with hands that were both tentative and eager and that were driving Hawk crazy. Kissing him with abandon. Making those delicious little noises that Hawk was already a bit addicted to and was starting to suspect he might never get enough of.

  And still, Hawk wanted more.

  The stolen kisses and small touches that they’d both flirted with… indulged in… not talked about over the last few weeks… had only whetted his appetite. This time, though, the way Frankie was responding to him made him pretty sure that Frankie was just as hungry for more as he was.

  Hawk slipped his hands under the hem of Frankie’s shirt and let them roam up and down Frankie’s back, loving the feel of his silky smooth skin… loving the way Frankie’s whole body shivered under his touch… loving all of it.

  “Frankie,” Hawk smiled as he said the word against Frankie’s eager mouth, unwilling to let talking stop him from kissing him. He leaned back on the couch and pulled Frankie on top of him, his whole body lighting up from the pressure of Frankie’s slight weight. “You feel… so good,” Hawk managed, which was the understatement of the century. As was: “I don’t wanna stop.”

  “No,” Frankie murmured, smiling against Hawk’s lips, too. “If you stop now, I might just—”

  Frankie didn’t finish telling him what he might just do, but it didn’t matter, because the way he was wriggling against him… his kisses growing hotter and deeper… panting and whimpering as Hawk let his hands roam more freely under his shirt, gave Hawk all the confidence he needed that whatever Frankie might do—wanted to do—was right in line with his own desire.

  And then—with a whispered “please” that did things to both Hawk’s cock and his heart—Frankie raised up just enough to let Hawk pull his shirt completely off. Hawk groaned, tossing it aside and then kissing lower on Frankie’s neck, unable to resist bringing his hands up to let his fingers play along Frankie’s bare chest and tweak his little pink nipples.

  Jesus.

  The man was gorgeous. If Hawk didn’t make himself stop right now, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop at all. But Frankie
had said “no” to stopping—perfect, perfect boyfriend— and he certainly wasn't acting like he even wanted to slow down.

  Hawk grinned, determined to give Frankie what he wanted.

  He pushed Frankie away from him gently, getting him to sit upright and straddle hiswaist. And… damn, just seeing him like that was almost enough to push Hawk over the edge.

  “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” Hawk asked, his voice somewhere between a rumble and a growl as he reached up and tweaked those cute little nipples again. Every part of Frankie’s body was just begging to be touched, kissed, licked… sucked.

  And Hawk wanted to experience all of it. Now.

  Frankie shook his head, going pink. “Um… no?”

  Adorable.

  He gasped as Hawk let his hands trail lower, moving them down Frankie’s chest and past his abs to play along the sweet little treasure trail that disappeared into the front of Frankie’s jeans.

  “But,” Frankie added breathlessly. “Maybe you could, um… keep doing that?”

  Yeah, Hawk could definitely keep doing this. He didn’t ever want to stop.

  “Anything,” he promised, then groaned when the word made the outline of Frankie’s cock strain against the denim of his jeans. It already looked rock-hard, and Hawk could see it throbbing like an invitation as he slipped his fingers in and out of the waistband of Frankie’s jeans and underwear.

  “Frankie,” Hawk murmured, torn between wanting to touch and wanting to tease.

  Frankie smiled—a much naughtier one than his usual sunny grin—and leaned back, nestling his ass against Hawk’s own insistent erection.

  Hawk groaned, his cock instantly going from happy to very happy. He moved his hands to Frankie’s hips, guiding him back and forth and creating a sensation that was half pleasure, half exquisite torture.

  “Fuck… Frankie,” Hawk panted after a minute, throwing his head back against the sofa cushion as Frankie ground his ass against him and let loose with more of those insanely erotic little sounds of his. “That feels… I need…”