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“Wow!” I pulled out of his arms and sat on the hood of the car. “You’re really into this one.”
He followed and stood between my legs, shoving the lollipop back in his mouth. “Don’t you think it’s strange—” he mumbled around the stick. I took it from his mouth and put it in mine so he could talk properly. “Don’t you think it’s strange that we’ve been on the road for this long and we’ve only crossed one state border?”
He smiled when I laughed, squinting to block out the sun. I pulled his Duke cap farther down his forehead. “We should take another picture of us and send it to Harry.”
He nodded in agreement and took the phone out of my back pocket. “Have you figured out how to use it yet?”
“Yes. I haven’t been living under a rock. I just had no need for things like Facebook.”
He snapped the photo, tapped the phone a few times, and shoved it back in my pocket. “You’re the only eighteen-year-old I know that doesn’t know how to use technology.” He scrunched his nose in disgust. “You make me sick,” he joked.
But I was too busy looking at him, watching as the sun beat down on his face, making his eyes extrablue and the freckles across his nose darker than I’d ever seen them.
“What?” he asked.
I tapped my finger on his nose. “You. These freckles. You’re just so damn cute. How did I land you?”
He laughed and brushed my hand away. “Pretty sure I landed on you.”
I ran my fingertips across his nose again. “I’m in love with these freckles. I kind of just want to make out with them.”
He swatted my hand away, feigning annoyance.
Blake
“Okay, thank you, I’ll see you later.” She hung up the phone just as I took a seat in the booth at the diner we stopped at for lunch.
“Who was that?”
She shook her head and looked down at the table. “Um, just the bank, about releasing some of my money.” Then she raised her head. “We should go . . . before the bank closes.” She stood up. “You go pay the bill. I’ll wait in the car.” Then she was off, rushing out the door.
She was seated in the driver’s seat when I came out, which was odd, because ever since we’d picked up the Jeep, I’d been the one to drive.
I climbed into the passenger’s seat. “You’re driving?”
“Yup.” Then she sped off, tires spinning as she did.
“Where are we going?”
“Duke.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “It’s where the bank’s head office is.”
“Okay, you’re going a little fast. We’ll make it before the bank closes.”
Her eyes darted from the clock to the speedometer. “I know,” she said, bouncing in her seat. “I just don’t want to risk it.”
When she’d said we were going to Duke, I’d thought she meant Durham. Not Duke University. And definitely not Cameron Indoor Stadium, where she was pulling into. I eyed her sideways. “What are you doing?”
“Come on. We’re late!”
“Late for what?”
She unclipped her seat belt and then mine. “Hurry!” she squealed.
She took my hand after we stepped out of the car and rushed toward the stadium, looking at her watch every few seconds.
“Chloe, what the hell is happening?” She was practically running now, which was strange, because Chloe never ran.
“Oh thank God, he’s still here.” She stopped suddenly and flattened her hands on my back, pushing me closer to the building. My head was turned, trying to look at her, so I didn’t see the man who began chuckling in front of me.
“You must be Chloe,” he said, and my head whipped forward.
“Hey, Coach,” she said from behind me, as if the man standing in front of me wasn’t a legend whose very presence made me nervous. “I’m Chloe.” She pointed her thumb at me. “You already know Blake.”
He held his hand out.
I wiped my palms on my shorts and shook his hand. “C-C-Coach,” I stuttered.
Chloe giggled but stopped when I turned to glare at her. “Sorry.” She frowned and then turned to the head coach of the Duke Blue Devils. “So, I’ll come back in an hour?”
Coach nodded.
She smacked my ass. “See you in an hour, babe.”
We both watched as she walked away.
“Your girlfriend’s something else,” Coach said.
“Yeah.” I turned to him. “She’s kind of amazing.”
He smiled. “Let me show you around, son.”
For the next hour, I got something not many people get to experience. I got one-on-one time with the head coach of a Division I college team. He showed me around the center, the gym, the locker rooms, and the facilities. We ended up sitting in the stands, right behind the Duke Blue Devils’ bench.
“My coaching staff told me about your situation, Hunter.”
“Yeah.” I wiped my palms against my shorts again. He was intimidating as a coach, but this felt so much more nerve-racking. “I need to thank you for allowing me . . . I mean . . . for keeping the spot open for me. I know that it’s not common, especially given—”
“Hunter,” he cut in. “I know what it’s like to be in your position. You know my history, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
