Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗

Despite her bewilderment, she doesn’t seem annoyed at seeing me. There isn’t the same hostility in her irises as when she spotted me in that Mexican restaurant. “Ah, I see,” she answers.

“You two know each other?” the girl asks.

“Yes, we do.” Ellie nods.

The waitress claps her hands. “That’s a fluke. Even more because you both like the same flavor.” Her eyes bounce between our faces, then stops on Ellie. “If you want, I’ll make two cones, each with a half scoop?”

I throw a questioning glance at Ellie. “Would you be okay with sharing?”

Ellie studies my face, then nods. “Sure.”

Monica grins. “Okeydokey. Two half-portions of sweet avocado cayenne, coming right up.”

Before she reaches the kitchen, Ellie calls out to her. “Don’t forget the—”

“—more resistant napkins, please,” I finish Ellie’s phrase.

Monica whips around and gives me a weird look, then she blinks at Ellie. She wiggles her brows, turns, and disappears.

Ellie’s mouth opens then closes. She keeps her gaze on the counter while Monica comes back with the cones filled with bright green cream.

The server hands them to us, together with a couple of white, thick napkins. “Here you go.”

I latch my cap on my belt and grab my wallet before Ellie can reach for hers. “Please, allow me.”

“Okay, thank you,” Ellie says.

I pay Monica, and we exit the shop.

After a few steps, Ellie stops and peers up at me. “So then…” Her tone sounds a lot like she’s saying goodbye.

But she can’t leave now. I don’t want to waste this lucky coincidence. I’d like to stay in her company some more and share with her my epiphany about Dad.

“Would you like to take a stroll in the park with me?” I ask.

When her brows arch, I add, “You can ditch me whenever I bore you. I won’t get offended, I promise.”

Ellie stares at me. “How did you know what I wanted to ask her?”

“Her?”

“Monica. You finished my phrase.”

I shrug. “My memories of you”—of us—“never faded. I remember that you dislike the papery napkins they give with ice creams.”

“I do.” She tilts her head to the side and draws in a breath. A weird glint invades her eyes. “Okay, let’s have a walk together.”

Standing in front of this ice cream parlor, with our treats in our hands and gazing into each other’s eyes, catapults me back to a time when I had something else in my life besides football. Something that made my heart beat faster and lighter than it ever had—even counting my last Super Bowl game.

Did I make a mistake giving that up?

Chapter 16

(Wyatt)

TEN YEARS AGO

The door of our college locker room slams, and the banging noise echoes through the walls, followed by a loud yell.

“Morning, Wyatt.”

I grab my T-shirt, stick my head through the opening and yank the fabric down over my torso before turning.

I expect to see Jimmy or Mike, the only other players besides me who take their game seriously enough to arrive half an hour in advance before a practice. But instead, it’s Coach Williams who marches toward me.

When I first turned up to my college practice, our trainer’s physique had fooled me. His height makes him look leaner, but he’s more beast than man. When he stomps his foot, the cracks in the sidewalk are proof of his four-hundred-pound, rock-solid, creatine-fueled muscles.

“Nice of you to show up,” he thunders at me, loudly, as if scolding a lineman who’s about to pick fried food from a buffet. Judging by his tone and furrowed eyebrows, he didn’t appreciate me missing our training last week.

Okay, it’s best to pretend I didn’t pick up on his sour mood. “Morning, Coach,” I answer with a smile. “How are you today?”

“Not nearly as good as you. Why are you sporting that imbecile grin like you were just handed the Man of the Year award, huh?” He gives me a disapproving glance. “And where were you on Friday?”

“I had a thing, Coach. Sorry.” I avoid his scrutinizing glance.

I don’t want him to read in my eyes that I had something more important to do.

It’s not that I wanted to slack off, but I didn’t have a choice. The ballet performance Ellie had been raving about for over a week started too early. I never could’ve made the drive to Phoenix on time if I’d come to play as well.

“A thing?” Coach William’s voice is icy. “Is this what you’ll tell your new team as well? Do you even comprehend the importance of what happened to you? You got drafted to the NFL, my son. The NFL. It’s a chance of a lifetime.”

I shift my weight. “I know.”

He shakes his head. “Do you? Because from the way you’ve been acting lately, it seems like you don’t. You’re distracted. You keep arriving late. And on Friday you skipped our practice. Do these actions remind you of a young man dedicated to his career?”

His rebuke bugs me.

I’ve always given all my energies to becoming the best quarterback. I made some slip-ups in the past weeks, but so what? My drafting game had been a success. Isn’t that what counts?

I meet his glance with a composed expression.

Coach Williams can be rather scary when he’s grumpy, but I’m rarely intimidated by anyone—I guess one good thing had to come out of dealing with my dad’s drunken temper.

“I nailed the roster in the first round, didn’t I?”

Coach Williams shakes his head. “Your dream wasn’t just to make it into the league, was it?”

My jaw tightens. “Don’t I deserve some compensation? A break from the routine?”

He sighs. “You do. But soon you’ll be playing for the Atlanta Kites. And there, even more than here, your focus will make or break your career.”

“Having something else that matters beside football isn’t a sin.” I don’t even realize I’m using Ellie’s words until they spring out of my mouth like doves from a magician’s hat.

My brain must have jumped back to her image, because the coach’s words reminded me that I still have