Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
CHANCE
Three things keep me from running off the stage to talk to April.
Derek will kill me if I ruin this photo op.
The nursing home residents seem extremely excited about these free boxers.
And lastly, I got years of discipline and self-control as an athlete.
However, staying on the stage doesn’t mean I’m focusing on taking pictures. I’m all-in, one hundred percent, locked on April.
When she excitedly greets an elderly man and smiles up at him like he means the world to her, I take notice.
Is that her dad?
He and April do kind of look alike.
“Alright, that’s the last of them,” Derek says, striding over to me and offering me coffee. “You can take a short break. We’re going to shoot some b-roll for…”
I race off the stage so fast I smell the soles of my sneakers burning. My head whips back and forth. Earlier, April was called away by a nurse. She took this hallway, but I don’t see her anywhere. Did she go into one of the rooms?
“Excuse me.” I pull aside a nurse in the hallway.
She looks up with an astonished smile. “Me?”
I nod.
Her eyes soften and she bats her eyelashes. “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for my girlfriend.”
Her face instantly drops.
“She’s about this high.” I gesture to my chest. “With curly brown hair and green eyes like the ocean. What else?” I point a finger at the nurse’s cheeks. “Freckles. She’s got the cutest freckles?—”
“No, I haven’t seen her. And I’m really busy.” She stomps away.
“Thanks for your time,” I call to her back.
Lost and slightly disappointed, I return to the main hall and spot the elderly man April was speaking to. I brighten and head his way. I have a feeling she’s still in the building and that she’ll see this guy before she leaves.
“Hey.” I slip into the chair beside the old man in the white T-shirt and over-alls. “I’m Chance.”
“I know who you are,” he says, excitedly pumping my hand up and down. “You just got drafted to the league.”
My eyes widen and I flick a glance at the ground. Should I correct him?
“Let me tell you, buddy. The real work is just beginning. Here’s my advice.” He leans close as if dispelling a great secret.
I lean forward too.
“You’ve got potential. I can see you taking home the cup in a few years. Easy. But you can’t get distracted by all the rigamarole. Keep your head down. Play a good game. That’s all you gotta do and it’s in the bag.”
I cough softly. “Thank you, sir. I’ll remember that.”
“Mr. Brooks,” a nurse arrives, “the chef has a surprise for you in the cafeteria. Why don’t you follow me?”
“I’m not hungry.” Mr. Brooks folds his arms over his chest.
The nurse’s tone remains patient. “You promised you’d at least see what the food is before you reject it.”
The old man looks away.
“Your daughter will be so disappointed if she hears you didn’t eat.”
“June?” His eyes brighten.
“No,” the nurse blows out a breath, “April.”
The old man frowns and flounces back into his seat. “I don’t know who that is. I want June.”
The lump in my throat turns into a boulder. I can just imagine April’s heart shattering every time her dad doesn’t recognize her.
I face the stubborn patient. “Mr. Brooks?”
“Yes?” He pins eager green eyes on me.
“I’d love if you could help me out with my game.”
“Of course, son.”
“How about we talk some more over…” I meet the nurse’s eyes.
“Lasagna,” she whispers.
“Over some tasty lasagna?” I finish.
He rubs his whiskers with thick, calloused fingers. Seeing his weathered hand moves me. I have a strong suspicion that these are the hands that taught April to fix cars.
I decide, right then and there, that if it’s the last thing I do today, I’ll make sure April’s dad eats.
“If you’re not interested…” I get up.
He grabs my hand. “I’m interested.” Releasing his grip, Mr. Brooks gripes, “It’s not often I get to talk about hockey. The company here is sub-par. No one watches the game with me.” He rolls his eyes as if to say what a disgrace . “The cafeteria’s this way.”
The nurse shoots me a grateful look and I smile, following the old man as he and his cane patter into the cafeteria.
We take a seat and he immediately starts talking about hockey, but I stop him.
“Let’s have a few bites first.”
He watches me dig in and, when he doesn’t follow suit, I gesture to him. “Do you mind joining me? I feel awkward eating alone.”
His eyes narrow as if he can tell that I’m setting him up but, after a few beats, he picks up his fork.
April finds us when her dad’s plate is clean and we’re debating the top ten greatest goals of all time.
“It was Ovi!” I insist.
“Young man, I question your taste if you can’t appreciate Orr’s play in the nineties?—”
“Dad?” she squeaks.
We both turn.
I greet her with a smile.
Mr. Brooks greets her with suspicion.
April clutches her bag. “What are you doing?”
“Eating,” I say, showing her my empty plate.
“Yeah, I ate the food.” Mr. Brooks brandishes his plate and grumpily scolds, “you nurses don’t have to harass me.”
April presses her lips together and I feel the overpowering urge to give her a hug.
After a deep breath, she nods. “Good job, Mr. Brooks. I’m so glad,” her voice breaks, “so glad to see you eating.”
He waves her away. “Can you excuse us? Chance and I were in the middle of a conversation.”
As hurt spears through April’s eyes, I clear my throat. “I should go. My team is probably looking for me.”
“So soon?” Mr. Brooks frowns in disappointment.
“I’ll be back,” I promise him. “And hopefully, you’ll be ready to admit that Ovi’s one-handed no look was the most spectacular goal of this century.”
“Orr is the most iconic goal and I will take that to my grave,” he fires back.
I wave goodbye and gesture for April to follow me into the hallway. She walks with her hands slipping into the front pockets of her over-alls and her eyes on the ground.
“Are you okay?” I ask when we’re alone. “You seem tired.”
“I’m fine,” she says. And it’s the most unconvincing ‘I’m fine’ I’ve ever heard. “Thanks for…” She gestures to the cafeteria with her eyes downcast. “His lack of appetite has been a concern.”
I want to ask her when her dad got sick. How she’s been handling seeing the man she admired slowly turn into someone who doesn’t recognize her. I want to ask what happened with June and if it hurts to know that his eldest daughter is the only one he remembers and calls for, despite it being April who’s here visiting him.
But I don’t say any of that because I doubt she’d answer.
“It was fun. He’s a hockey fan, so we had that in common.”
She nods distractedly.
“Which makes me wonder why you didn’t recognize me.” I tilt my head. Outside, I’m smirking but inside I’m filing through my list of jokes. How do I get her to smile again?
“Dad didn’t force me to watch the games so I never did.” She shrugs. “I would rather watch a ScannerDanner video or read up on a new diagnosis tool.”
“That… sounds like fun.”
She lets out a breathy little laugh.
It’s not a full-on belly laugh but at least her shoulders aren’t as tense.
I take a step closer to her, my sneakers a breath away from her steel-toed boots. Her mouth falls open slightly and she sucks in a sharp breath. I look down at her, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet my eyes.
She doesn’t flinch or move away despite how near I am to her.
“April,” I say softly.
“Mm?”
“I’m not supposed to do this…” I watch as her eyebrow quirks, already anticipating the worst. “But because it’s you, I’ll sneak your dad a few more boxers. Let me know if you ever need more.”
Her dewy eyes collapse into slits as she lets loose a real, sincere laugh that comes all the way from her stomach. Embarrassed, she covers her mouth to hold it back but it spills from the sides of her palm.
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” April chuckles. “The very last thing I expected was to walk in here and see you as the ambassador for underwear.”
“I guess you haven’t heard what happened yesterday,” I reply with a dry grin.
“What happened yesterday?”
“Forget it.”
“Now I’m curious.”
“Let’s just say, I’ve been getting lots of compliments on my… glutes.”
She giggles.
I straighten and meet her eyes with a satisfied smile.
“What?”
“I really like that.”
“What?” She arches an eyebrow.
Y our smile, the way you blush, the way car oil stains your fingertips, the way you breathe.
“Your freckles,” I say instead. There. That’s a non-creepy response.
A blush steals across her face. Like clockwork.
She brushes her cheeks as if trying to sweep them off. “They’re ugly.”
I am personally offended. “No, they’re not. They’re magnificent. Why would you say your freckles are ugly?”
A nurse passes by and gives us a curious look.
The tension returns to April’s body and her smile disappears again. “Stop joking around. I shouldn’t be laughing right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” Whatever she was about to say, she decides not to share and instead gives me a polite nod. “Because I’m letting out my ‘only in front of family and friends’ laugh.”
“Oh? And which one am I?” I step forward and she shuffles back. “Family?” Another step. Her back hits the wall and I brace a hand next to her head. Leaning down, I add, “A friend?”
Her eyelashes bounce like a chihuahua on a trampoline. She bites down on her lush bottom lip. “I… you’re not either.”
“What if I want to be?”
“I’m confused. Which one do you want to be?”
“I don’t want to choose.”
“But—”
“A ‘boyfriend’ counts as both, right?”
Her eyes widen slightly. Her nose flares. “That position’s filled.”
“Lucky guy.”
“Stop joking around.”
I sweep my thumb over one of her freckles. “What if I’m serious? What if… I’ve been thinking about you all day and I really want to take you out on a date. Soon.”
“How soon?” she answers sassily despite her very obvious blush. “I’m kind of busy.”
My lips curl up in amusement. “We’re heading out of town for a week—Max has us training with another team, and then I have a photoshoot so I’ll fly out and be back by Saturday night.”
“Isn’t that Saturday your first game?” she asks.
I flash her a disarming smile. “You’ve been keeping up with my schedule.”
“I’m just worried you’ll be too tired to parade around town with me. Wouldn’t the Sunday be better?”
“I won’t be able to wait until Sunday.” I stare into her eyes that are the color of expensive, turquoise gemstones. “Let’s have dinner after the game. That way, whether we win or lose, I’ll end the night happy.”
If she blinks any faster, she’s going to create hurricane-force winds with her eyelashes and then she’ll start levitating off the ground.
“There you are, Chance! I was looking everywhere for you.” Derek’s voice attacks me like a swarm of bees.
I groan and hang my head, slowly removing my hand from the wall and freeing April. The moment my agent sees her, he brightens like she’s his next big paycheck and hurries over to her.
“Nice to finally meet you, er, what was your name again?”
“I’m April,” she says. The red stain still hasn’t left her cheeks.
“Ah yes.” Derek winks. “The pretend girlfriend.”
Instantly, the air between me and April gets tense.
Not that Derek notices.
He keeps yammering. “You’re doing a fantastic job by the way. Really killing it. I knew this guy could sell it.” Derek clamps a hand over my shoulder. “He’s so charismatic, every girl he dated thought she was ‘the one’.”
I wince.
Derek laughs. “But you? You were a wild card. So I’m relieved you guys have enough natural chemistry to pull this off.” He wiggles a finger. “But don’t get too carried away. The moment I get this man back to the leagues, it’s over.”
April’s open, trusting eyes instantly shifts with suspicion and I pin my agent with a dark, flaming look. With one word from Derek, what little trust I was starting to build between me and April just crumbled.
And now I’m back to square one.