“I’ll give you my jersey,” the dark-haired guy called to the blonde.
She ignored him, drooling over Chandler like every other woman in the stadium.
Kylee’s stomach took a nosedive, along with all her romantic and never to be fulfilled dreams of Chandler being her someone special.
“Sure,” he said, gifting the blonde with his charming grin.
He whipped off his jersey and handed it over. The blonde clutched the sweaty thing to her chest. Gross. Though Kylee would probably do the same if Chandler handed her his jersey.
Kylee’s gaze was drawn to Chandler’s chest, partially visible under the small chest pad, and his shoulders and abs that were clearly visible.
Oh, mon.Oh, my.
She, along with probably every other female in the stadium, let out a gasp at the sight of all that muscular gorgeousness. It wasn’t fair for one man to be that appealing. Kylee had to remember she’d never be the type to date a perfect model athlete. From her social media stalking of his name, she’d seen Chandler on dates with so many beautiful women that it could make her sick enough to not want to eat ice cream that night. Luckily, she overcame that awful impulse.
She could use a generous serving of Rocky Road right about now.
“Do you want my shirt?” the blonde asked Chandler coyly.
Kylee’s stomach turned over. Nope. She was too sick for even ice cream.
Chandler held up his hands and stepped back. “No thanks.”
He moved on to the teenager right in front of her, slapping the kid’s hand. His teammate flirted with the blonde about taking his jersey.
“Hey, man,” Chandler said. “Thanks for coming.”
“You’re the best!” the kid called out.
“Do you play?” Chandler asked, and Kylee’s heart softened to him again. How cute was he to give this kid some attention?
“Yeah, man. I’m a d-pole for Quincy High.”
“Sweet. I’m going to make one of your games this spring. I love watching Quincy play.”
“Do you mean it?” The boy’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward.
“For sure. You came to watch me I have to return the favor.” Chandler was so confident and kind. Kylee had been half in love with him for years. If he kept this up, she’d fall the rest of the way and earn a “stalker chick” badge for her obsession. It was idiotic to love a confirmed ladies’ man, but rational thought went out the window with him this close.
“Keep working hard,” Chandler said.
“I will!”
Chandler moved to slap the next person’s hand. Hers. It was surreal to have those blue eyes focus in on her. The world started spinning. She reached out her hand, needing to speak and quietly beg him to remember her and to meet her somewhere so they could talk in private. She couldn’t make her mouth form words and feared he’d slap her hand and keep on moving.
He didn’t slap her hand. Instead, he wrapped his hand around hers. His blue eyes lit up and his generous mouth curved in a happy smile. “Kylee Seamons.” He said her name as ifshewere the superstar.
Kylee blinked at him. “You remember me?”
“Of course I remember you.” He stared at her as if she were the only person in his world. His gaze entranced her, and she almost threw herself over the railing and hoped he’d catch her.
You’d knock him flat.
Sessiz olun!
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Do you still live in Chicago?”
She nodded dumbly, cleared her throat, and said, “I need you.”