Just Chance Read online

  Hawk swallowed back his knee-jerk reaction to Corbin unexpectedly springing a “boyfriend” comment on him now. Getting defensive wasn’t going to be productive. Still, it was bad enough that Corbin had called him out for something completely ridiculous, but what made it worse was that it wasn’t even true.

  If Hawk had gotten the chance to have a little fun with the delivery guy, then maybe he’d be a little more open to discussing… whatever it was Corbin was getting at. Right now, though? Still in the hospital, still with the same case of blue balls that visiting Bridgewater—with its complete lack of anything resembling a gay scene—always gave him, he wasn’t really inclined to be lectured.

  But in an act of self-control that should’ve won him some sort of peace prize, Hawk took a moment to let Corbin’s words sink in. Then, as the pieces fell into place in his mind, the corners of Hawk’s mouth started to twitch.

  Corbin was talking about the delivery guy… and what had he said? That there were pictures of the guy smiling when he’d left Hawk’s room? That thought stirred something inside Hawk. He knew exactly the smile Corbin was talking about—could picture it perfectly in his mind, even though he’d only just met Frankie a day before.

  When Hawk remembered that bright smile and those generous lips, there was no way he was going to get rid of the grin that was beginning to spread across his own face. It started slowly, but once he’d figured out what Corbin had been talking about, it quickly grew into a full-blown smile. Then a laugh. A deep, loud belly-laugh that Hawk was powerless to stop, in spite of the fact that laughing like that really, really hurt his ribs.

  The other end of the line was completely silent as Hawk laughed, and the thought of Corbin sitting there, clueless and fuming, only made him laugh harder.

  Had Corbin seriously believed some hyped-up tabloid bullshit?

  Had the great Corbin Tucker been outsmarted at his own game?

  There were tears forming at the corners of Hawk’s eyes and his cheeks hurt from laughing. Regardless, if it wasn’t for the sharp pain in his ribs, he probably could’ve kept it up for several more minutes.

  “Is this all just some sort of joke to you?” Corbin asked, clearly out of the loop and far from amused. “I’m going to assume that you have a very good explanation for all of this bullshit. I’m busting my ass to make this right for you, so if you’re not gonna take it seriously, you need to let me know. Save us both a lot of time and effort.”

  Once Hawk had finally stopped laughing—or at least had stopped enough to be able to speak again—he was tempted to keep the truth a secret for just a few more minutes, just enough to make Corbin squirm. But no. That would be mean, right?

  Probably well-deserved, but mean.

  “No, listen,” he said. "I am taking it seriously, but that guy wasn’t my boyfriend, Corbin.”

  Hawk felt a twinge of… something at the words. They were the truth—and it wasn’t like he knew Frankie well enough to even consider anything as serious as being the guy’s boyfriend—but still, admitting that Frankie was just a stranger who had been there to deliver flowers from Hawk’s mom was definitely a less interesting story.

  Less interesting and… less satisfying.

  “My mom had flowers delivered to my room since she couldn’t stop by and visit yesterday,” Hawk explained, speaking over Corbin’s disbelieving snort. “Frankie—the guy I’m assuming was in the pictures—was just the delivery guy.”

  There was silence, and then another snort. “You’re not just fucking with me, right, Hawk? If you’re dating someone and it’s already leaked to the press, that’s information I need to know in order to do my job.”

  “Nope. I swear it. Just the delivery guy. Don’t you think I’ve got enough on my plate without some sort of secret boyfriend?”

  Even though—if Hawk was being totally honest—he wouldn’t mind a boyfriend, secret or otherwise, but it was probably best not to push too many of Corbin’s buttons at once. Dodging the man's phone calls for a few hours was one thing, but at the end of the day, it was important to remember that they were both on the same team. Team Hawk.

  “I would’ve thought that, yes,” Corbin said. And then, repeating what Hawk already knew all too well, he added, “With your record of injuries, the owners might not see the point in keeping you on when they could go for someone younger, faster, and less breakable. But nobody’s talking about your injury today. It’s all about the mystery guy who visited you in the hospital.”

  Hawk shook his head. It was sort of unbelievable the way people always seemed to be interested in things that didn’t matter—or that were flat-out none of their business. It was a big part of the reason Hawk hadn’t really seriously dated anyone since he’d joined the NFL.

  A new relationship was hard enough. But in the spotlight?

  Nah, that wasn’t something most guys were willing to sign up for.

  “They’re gonna be disappointed, then,” Hawk said, stating the obvious. “My ‘boyfriend’ is a non-story. Seriously, Corbin, I’d never even met the guy before he—”

  “Wait a minute,” Corbin interrupted, his tone more excited than annoyed for once. “Wait. A. Minute. That’s it. Hawk, that’s it!”

  Hawk didn’t have a clue as to what Corbin was talking about, but he knew better than to interrupt the stream of consciousness that happened whenever Corbin was formulating a plan. It was usually an incomprehensible process that never failed to produce something brilliant. Usually something that never would’ve occurred to Hawk.

  Sure enough, Corbin continued without any input from Hawk.

  “Did you hear what I just said?” Corbin asked, his excited tone making it clear that the question was rhetorical. “Everyone is so caught up with this secret boyfriend thing that nobody’s asking questions about your injury. If we could milk this story for a couple more weeks—hell, even just a few more days would be great—it would buy us the time we need to get you recuperating and to figure out how long you’re actually going to be out of commission. It’s fucking perfect.” Corbin took a breath, maybe the first one since he’d started explaining his plan… a plan Hawk still wasn’t entirely sure he understood. “Hawk, you’ve gotta get that flower guy back there,” Corbin added decisively. “We’ve gotta get him under an NDA and get him on board with this plan. Do you have his number?”

  “I, uh…” Hawk’s eyes settled on the bouquet next to his bed, the bright little card with the logo for Chance to Bloom sticking out. “Yeah, I know where he works, but… lemme make sure I understand what you’re saying here. You want me to get the flower guy—Frankie—to come back here, and then… ask him to pretend to be my boyfriend for a while?”

  “And sign a non-disclosure agreement, yes,” Corbin confirmed, his brusque tone making it almost seem like a reasonable idea instead of the insanity Hawk was pretty sure it actually was. “That’s pretty much the plan.”

  “What’s the incentive?” Hawk asked, trying to wrap his mind around it. "For Frankie, I mean. Why would he agree to do that for me? What if he already has a boyfriend? What if he isn’t even gay?”

  Although Nurse LaRinda had asked Frankie if he was flirting with Hawk, which certainly implied that Hawk’s gaydar had been spot on.

  He grinned. Despite the rapid-fire questions he’d just thrown at Corbin, Hawk wasn’t necessarily opposed to the plan. It just seemed a little… weird.

  Hawk might hook-up with guys from time to time, but an actual boyfriend? Even a fake one?

  That was pretty new.

  And even though he objectively and instinctively knew that he could get along with Frankie—that he definitely wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with the guy—they’d only just met.

  Now Hawk was supposed to ask some huge favor?

  It wasn’t how Hawk had envisioned a potential second meeting with the sexy flower delivery guy. And even though he was pretty sure—okay, really fucking sure, even before LaRinda’s comment—that Frankie was, in fact, gay… how was he
supposed to bring that up in conversation?

  Still, the nervous anticipation that the thought brought out in him was the same. Hawk loved that shot of adrenaline he got from the thrill of the hunt, the chase, the game—either on the football field or off.

  And the thought of spending a little more time with someone cute and sweet who’d already made his cock stand up and pay attention?

  Yeah, pure adrenaline.

  “I don’t know what the incentive is for him,” Corbin said dismissively, sounding annoyed again. It was the tone he took anytime Hawk questioned his plans. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. If he’s a fan, we’ll give him a signed helmet or something.”

  “And if he’s not a fan?” Hawk could barely suppress a smile at the memory of Frankie looking completely stumped when he’d been trying to guess what Hawk did for a living. So fucking cute.

  “If he’s not, you fucking make him a fan,” Corbin snapped. “Jesus, Hawk, if I could come down there and do this for you, I would. But I can’t, so you’re just going to have to suck it up and make it work, okay? There are plenty of guys—gay and straight—who would give their left nut to hang out with you for even a day. Selling this shouldn’t be too fucking hard.”

  Hawk sat for a moment, mulling over Corbin’s plan. Should he argue? Ask more questions? Was it a good idea? Bad idea? Terrible idea? He just wasn’t sure. It would give him an excuse to see Frankie again, though, and that could never be a bad thing. Even through the stress of his injury and the uncertainty of his future with the Falcons, that thought still made him smile.

  “Hawk? Are you there? Are you on board? You’ve gotta do this. Your career depends on it.”

  Hawk didn’t answer right away, taking another moment to close his eyes and try to weigh the pros and cons. He tried to clear his mind, but the only thing that it kept coming back to was… Frankie. Hawk really did want an excuse to see him again, especially if he was going to be stuck in Bridgewater for a few weeks. And even though pretending to be boyfriends wouldn’t give Hawk a free pass to do all the things boyfriends might do, it might be his best chance to have a little fun and see where things could go, if given a chance.

  And just like that, the decision was made. Corbin was right, of course, just like he always was. Hawk had to do something, and this not only the best plan they had, it was also something Hawk wanted to do. So…

  “Yeah,” Hawk said. “Yeah, I hear you. I’m on board. Let me get Frankie back in here, and I’ll be in touch. I still have to talk it over with him, after all.”

  “You have to convince him. Do whatever it takes. Make it happen.”

  The line went dead before Hawk could say anything else. And really, there wasn’t anything else to say. Hawk would do whatever it took, because playing football was that important to him. He loved the game, and he loved that it gave him the means to make sure his family was taken care of. It wasn’t so many years ago that his parents were living month to month, just one emergency away from potentially losing everything they’d worked so hard for. Hawk’s career in the NFL meant they didn’t have to worry about that anymore, and he wasn’t about to put that at risk when he only had a few good years left to play, anyway.

  Still, even though Hawk had every reason to make this work, he wasn’t going to steamroll Frankie, either. If Frankie was gonna go in on this plan with him, they’d both have to be on board, one hundred percent.

  Before he could move to get the number to the flower shop—before he could even put down his phone—it vibrated again in his hand, making him jump. At first, he thought it was probably Corbin calling back to give him some more instructions or maybe to share his next great idea. But no. It was Juan, his best friend on the team.

  “Hey, man,” Hawk did his best to sound nonchalant, even though he was more than a little bit preoccupied with the master plan Corbin had just laid on him. Well, that… and the fact that propping up his arm to talk on the phone for so long was starting to take its toll on his already aching ribs. “What’s up?”

  “I should be asking you the same thing.” Juan’s tone was a mixture of urgent concern and friendly irritation. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital?”

  “Not so loud,” Hawk hissed, hoping and praying that Juan wasn’t out in public while he was making this call.

  He shouldn’t have to explain to his best friend why it was so important to keep this injury under wraps, but… okay, fine. Maybe he could’ve at least given Juan a heads-up.

  “I didn’t really plan on staying here for so long, but you know how these doctors are. They wanna be extra sure about everything.”

  “God forbid they wanna make sure your clumsy ass is okay,” Juan shot back, his teasing tone still laced with a hint of true concern. “Your mom called me earlier to make sure there wasn’t any training you’d miss in the next few weeks. Said she didn’t want you trying to pull a fast one to get back on the field before you were ready. I guess she thought you’d have told your friends, you know, since that’s a thing people do. But when I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, she clammed up. I had to promise to visit and stay overnight before she’d tell me what was actually wrong with you.”

  “I wondered how long it would take before my mom gave in and spilled her guts to someone.” Hawk’s playful sarcasm was all the response he could muster. He wasn’t worried, though—Juan could take it just as well as he could dish it out.

  “Fuck off, Hawkins. I was worried about you, but I can tell you’re in good enough shape.”

  Hawk laughed. Juan was like the brother Hawk had never had. They gave each other shit twenty-four seven, but Hawk knew that out of all his teammates and friends, Juan was the one he could always count on to have his back.

  “I’ve been better, honestly.” Hawk said, the smile fading from his face as he shifted his weight in bed and grimaced from the pain.

  “Well, rumor has it you’ve been getting some sexual healing down there in Farmville,” Juan said, laughing.

  “Oh, shit.” Hawk winced, both from the pain in his ribs and the fact that the rumors had to be spreading far and wide if even Juan was paying attention to them. The man avoided tabloids and celebrity gossip like the plague. “It’s, uh, not like that, Juan. What have you heard?”

  “It’s not like what?” Juan asked, sounding almost gleeful. “That you have a boyfriend you haven’t told me about? That you’re laid up with an injury you haven’t told anyone about? Which part isn’t it like?”

  Hawk sighed, wondering just how much he was ready to share with his friend. He didn’t want to lie to Juan—not about the injury and not about the crazy plan Corbin had come up with, either—but he wasn’t sure he was ready to spill the whole truth. At least, not until he’d figured out exactly what the truth was going to be. He still had to make that call to his hopefully-soon-to-be-fake-boyfriend, after all, and until Hawk made that call, there was really nothing to tell.

  And if Corbin’s plan fell through? Well, Hawk’s secret romance would’ve been very short-lived.

  “Okay, maybe it’s sort of like all of that,” Hawk confessed, figuring it was close enough to the truth to skate by with for now. “But I wasn’t trying to keep shit from you, man. It’s just… complicated.”

  “Relationships usually are,” Juan said. “Is this guy the reason you keep coming up with excuses to get back to that one-street town? You’ve done a pretty good job of keeping him secret up until now.” It was hard to tell if Juan sounded suspicious or concerned, but there was no mistaking his tone when he spoke again. “If your guy’s not treating you right, though, you know I can come down there and have a little talk with him…”

  “Nah, I’m good. Everything is good,” Hawk said, trying not to laugh and hoping he sounded convincing enough.

  Jesus, for Juan to pop in and have some kind of talk with the flower delivery guy was really the last thing Hawk needed. He almost laughed again, in spite of the pain it would’ve caused, just thinking a
bout that nightmare scenario. Time to change the subject.

  “You know that now—since you’ve made that promise to my mom—she’s gonna expect you to actually follow through and visit this ‘one-street town,’ right?” he asked, grinning as he thought back to all the shit Juan had given him over the years about the Podunk place Hawk had come from. “And fair warning, in case you’re thinking of staying somewhere besides the ranch—the hotel isn’t five stars and the nearest club is more than an hour away. I’m not sure you’d make it a whole night in Bridgewater, to be honest. You might actually die of boredom.”

  Juan laughed. “Your mom made it pretty clear that I’m not allowed to stay anywhere but the ranch while I’m there, so I’ll just have to take your word on the shitty hotels. You know I love a challenge, though. I’m in. How does sometime next week sound?”

  “Wait, for real?” Hawk asked, waiting for the punchline. "You’re really gonna come here? To see me?”

  It had taken him several seconds to realize that Juan wasn’t joking. The guy was really talking about visiting. Spending the night. At the ranch. Hell really might have frozen over, for a big-city boy like Juan to willingly give up his luxuries for a full twenty-four hours. Hawk would have to see it to believe it.

  “Yeah, you and that boyfriend you’ve been hiding,” Juan said. “I introduce you to all the girls I date. It’s about time you got the chance to return the favor, don’t you think? Besides, I don’t wanna get on your mom’s bad side. I’ll be done in Atlanta in a few days and then I’ll be there. Probably Wednesday, but I’ll let you know for sure before then. Okay?”

  Hawk was still incredulous, but wasn’t about to turn his friend down—getting Juan to voluntarily visit the small town wasn’t likely to happen again anytime soon. Unfortunately, it only put more pressure on Hawk to figure things out with Frankie, but at least he’d still have a few days to get their stories straight.