“Can’t.” Beau zipped his phone in his jacket pocket. “Have to get home and pack. Cassie planned a babymoon at a spa in Sedona.”
The younger players congratulated Beau as if he’d announced he’d won the lottery. Chase glanced at Elliot.
“Got me.” Elliot shrugged. “Sounds like a vacation, although I wouldn’t be going to a spa. Maybe the casinos in Vegas or the white sand beaches in the Bahamas. I like those drinks with the umbrellas.”
The guys looked at Chase. Preston flicked his hand at Chase. “We know Chase is in for sure.”
Elliot whispered, “Remember that reputation repair thing.”
The last time Chase had played trivia, they’d moved the fun to another player’s penthouse suite and launched drones from the balcony. Their erratic flight plans invaded the privacy of other residents and resulted in more than one call to law enforcement. Not exactly the headline the Pioneers or Travis wanted to see.
Even more important, Chase needed an immediate physical therapy session on his shoulder, yet he couldn’t admit that, not to his teammates. Chase glanced at his phone and the open message from a former classmate and old friend. The message he couldn’t quite read. But he seized on the excuse and improvised. “I have a date.”
Now the congratulations heaped on Chase. Along with hopes that this one stuck around longer than the last few. Preston clarified that by longer they all meant more than one week. Chase accepted the ribbing and laughed. His dating stats looked worse than a benched player. Yet a benched player worked harder to get back on the field, back into the game. Chase preferred to keep his dating life on the sidelines. The only long-term deal that interested him was football.
Nichole Moore had stuck around longer than a week in high school. She’d stuck around long enough to make sure Chase had graduated from high school and earned a college scholarship. Then she’d stuck around again helping him pass his college courses until he’d been drafted into the pros his junior year of college. She’d been more than a tutor, more than a simple friend. She’d been his confidante and he hers when they’d both needed someone the most.
But they were adults now. They’d moved on and hadn’t spoken in years. What could she want? More than intrigued, Chase headed for the trail. He stopped only to send a quick text to JT, his physical therapist, requesting an afternoon treatment session as soon as possible.
It only took an hour and one fall off his bike for Chase to make it back down the hill. He tightened the straps on his bike in his truck bed, called goodbyes to the guys and started the engine. He connected his cell phone to the audio system and pressed the button for the automated voice to read his message from Nichole out loud. In school, he’d relied on Nichole to help him work through his dyslexia and graduate. Now he relied on modern technology and kept the truth of his dyslexia a well-guarded secret.
He listened to the message twice. Nichole was calling in her favor owed. Expected him to honor his promise made a decade earlier. She’d always expected him to be better. Do better. As if she’d always known he could be more. He grinned from the inside out. He hadn’t accepted a challenge from Nichole in entirely too long.
He pressed the reply button and agreed to meet her for drinks at Glasshouse Inn. It wasn’t one of the city’s hot spots. Glasshouse Inn was known more for its exceptional five-star menu at its exclusive restaurant, Sapphire Cellar, than a bar scene. He wouldn’t have to worry about damaging his reputation tonight.
Besides, he’d be with Nichole Moore, the high school class valedictorian and his onetime conscience. What could possibly go wrong?
CHAPTER FOUR
“CHASE. YOU REALLY CAME.” Nichole exhaled, trying with difficulty to raise the volume of her voice. Now if she could just get out the words: Can you help me close this deal? She drew a breath and then choked on it as energy—the nervous, fluttery kind—streamed through her. But this was Chase.
“I had to.” Chase tipped his head. “It’s the first time ever you asked for my help.” One side of his mouth eased up into his cheek—part smirk, part grin and all parts appealing.
And just like that, the distance of a decade apart dwindled to simple seconds. She recognized that grin. The one that suggested there were wagers to be placed. Apologies to be accepted. Bad decisions to be overlooked. He’d won over high school teachers, college professors, countless reporters and now the public too with that one particular look.
He ordered a soda and sat on the barstool beside her as if he was taking his usual seat at the kitchen table to work on American Lit. Only their knees collided and remained connected. The simple contact both distracting and reassuring. This was worse than her clumsiness.
Can you help me? “I just wanted to catch up with an old friend. It’s been a while.”
He’d been her only true friend in high school. He’d once called her fearless and she’d believed him. She’d also believed in true love and happily-ever-afters. How she missed the naive strength and foolish wonder they’d once possessed together.
“We could’ve played the catch-up game online or over text.” He shrugged, only one shoulder and one corner of his mouth lifted. His usual misleading smile eased back into place. “But you told me to come here. In person.”
“You’ve improved at following orders.” She smiled.
His grin widened. The wealthy, successful bachelor humoring his brainy, bookish friend. And she completely lost her nerve.
“What is it you need?” he asked.
That deep timbre of a voice always on the verge of releasing a contagious laugh flowed over Nichole. Familiar, though different. “I...this was a mistake. I’ve read about you.” About his philanthropy. His multimillion-dollar contracts. His dates with models and his endless adventures.
He rubbed the back of his neck and
