Chase: A Devil & his Birdie: Havenwood University Book Two

Chapter 6

I DROVE like a bat out of hell away from Jock Row and raced back to my apartment to quickly change before the party. We had agreed on a target delivery, and then Davis insisted that he wanted his things right this minute. Same-day pick-up threw a monkey wrench into my original plans and I dug my nails into my palms for the entire drive over to the store while he blasted Morgan Wallen.

We ran outta my allotted time that I squared away for him, and I missed out on getting ready with Evie for tonight’s party. When I texted her that I was going to be late, she opted to get ready at Max’s instead. She didn’t seem mad but I am just the same. I hate being late to things. I hate when I screw up like this. But most of all, I hate that I’m missing out on getting ready with her.

Truth be told, I also needed a bit of a breather from Davis and now I won’t have much downtime before this party. I had a feeling this would happen, that he’d see right through my layers of defense within the first few minutes of us being back together.

I shouldn’t be surprised though, he knows me better than anyone. I don’t want to lie to him but my cutting feels almost too personal to share. It makes me feel guilty considering nothing has ever been off-limits between us.

An hour later I drive back over to Jock Row and the street is already lined with cars. I find a parking spot down by the baseball houses at the beginning of the street and squeeze my car in.

I told Davis I’d text him when I got here, our compromise after he protested about me leaving to go home in the first place, but I need a minute alone before walking into his house and this party.

Even the slightest possibility that I’ll see Chase tonight is enough to make me sweat like it’s the middle of the day during a Georgia summer and the cooler January air feels good on my skin as I exit my car. I know my brother didn’t want me to walk alone, but I need a moment to collect myself.

I texted Evie to let her know I’m headed over but haven’t heard back yet. She’s nervous and excited about tonight. We haven’t been to a party together since last August and it was so unpleasant we haven’t been back to one since.

I pocket my phone and start walking down the street. A group of guys walks down the sidewalk across the street parallel to me. They’re boisterous, laughing, and already drinking cans of beer that they throw into the front yards of various team houses not caring that they are littering and loud.

A man with a medium build, side-slicked blonde hair, and an unsettling look on his face jogs across the street toward me. I quicken my steps and keep facing forward. I have no desire to talk to him and hope he gets the hint. Jock Row is a lot of things but it’s also well lit and packed with people. He’d be a fool to try anything.

“Hey beautiful, where are you headed tonight?” he asks as he puts his arm around my shoulder. His friends don’t miss a beat and start cackling like a bunch of hyenas when I step away out of his reach and his arm falls to his side.

I can feel his anger brewing underneath his narrowing eyes when I turn to look at him. He’s good-looking, put together, and has probably never been rejected. He also smells like he showered in Axe body spray which was once my down fall in high school, and now a major red flag. I notice Greek letters embroidered on his jacket which makes total sense. He looks like a frat guy. Smells like a frat guy.

“To my brother’s house, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get going. You have yourself a good night,” I tell him and physically step around him when he doesn’t move. He’s widened his stance and has taken up the majority of the sidewalk. I breathe out some nerves and do my best to not show him he’s now making me nervous. My hands are in my pockets and I dig my nails into my palms to calm my breathing which is picking up speed.

“Come on, don’t be like that, it looks like we’re headed in the same direction. Plus I told those idiots over there that I was determined to talk to the red-headed beauty when I saw you walking by yourself,” he says with a smile that shows sparkling white straight teeth. He’s got a gleam in his eye that I don’t trust and he’s putting me off with as his hand grips my arm. I should”ve texted Davis.

“You need to remove your hand and kindly take a step back,” I tell him and his hand harshly squeezes my bicep. I hold his beady stare for a beat and don’t let myself waver.

“Don’t make me look like an ass in front of my brothers, you”re far too pretty for me to make you cry, sweetheart,” he says with spit dripping from his chapped and cracked lips. The absolute audacity of this guy.

“Oh come now, is your ego really as fragile as an eggshell? Don’t tell me you”re worried about what they think if I turned ya down,” I tell him, while he still has his hand wrapped around my arm.

I’m trying to keep it together while squeezing my fists together in my coat pocket and digging my nails into my palms. It’s doing nothing to calm my nerves. My insides are rioting but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me upset. He flexes his fingers around my arm and I do my best not to wince at the pain as I try to get out of his hold.

“Fight me, baby, I dare you. I won’t be so gentle next time,” he says with a mouthful of spite as I finally free myself from him. His ears are fire engine red and burning with embarrassment. I lift my chin to him and with a satisfying huff, I spin around and walk as quickly as I can down the rest of the sidewalk taking my chances that he won’t reach for me again. My confidence trails behind me with each step along with the adrenaline rush that now trickles down to droplets.

I felt him watch me while I walked away. It wasn’t the usual warm, welcoming, heart pumping, please come closer, feelings that erupt through me when Chase’s eyes follow me. No, these eyes feel cold, calculated, and spiteful. Hurtful. Threatening.

I send Evie and Davis texts to let them know I’m here. I take a few deep breaths but it’s enough to calm me down. I need a bite of pain to press the reset button. I can’t help but dig my manicured nails back into the palms of my hands to get myself right before I’m sure there are now several sets of little half-moon indents on my skin.

It’s further evidence of my racing thoughts, nervous energy, rising anxiety, and last but not least, my terrible decision to not let my brother know I was here. I should’ve texted him. I glance at my upturned hands and am satisfied with the marks, with the pinpricks of pain all over my skin.

The house is jammed with bodies swaying to music that is loudly blaring. I see backward hats displaying the Havenwood Hockey Devils logo, but none display the number five and I’m immediately disappointed.

I spot Hunter in the middle of a sorority girl sandwich and roll my eyes. Evie’s mentioned he’s been out of control lately. That boy will stick it in anything that moves and as many as he can.

He looks moodier than usual and he slightly smiles when he sees me causing the girls plastered to his side to whine when he diverts the attention they’re greedy for.

I’ve only got a smidge of patience for sorority girls after what happened at UGA. These sisters at Havenwood are no better, and the ones who hang all over Hunter are a bunch of thirsty turtles. They are downright awful and remind me of Lexi.

“Red,” he offers with a lift of his handsome head and I smile back.

“Hunter, nice to see you, sugar,” The broody, tall, dark, and handsome Wilton brother and I became friends last semester and I get more glares than ever before because of it. Now isn’t any different and I roll my eyes at them begging for an ounce of his attention. They think they have a real shot with him but they don’t. They also don’t seem to know that he isn’t the Wilton brother I want. Is he gonna be here tonight?

“He’s around here somewhere,” he offers as if he’s read my mind. I just smile, not sure what else there is to say. As much as the butterflies in my belly are fluttering to see him, I know nothing else will happen besides smoldering stares that won’t change anything between us. I can’t imagine anything happening tonight that will cause us to shift. He’ll stay glued to the walls of the room while I dance and have some much-needed fun with his sister.

He’ll watch and I’ll make sure he does. I’ll go home alone and wish he was there. That’s all it’ll be because he won’t step toward me. He won’t meet me in the middle. He won’t give in and fall over the edge with me. I can’t help but let out a frustrated huff and loud sigh. Hunter, bless his heart, just raises his eyebrows but doesn’t question me about it. After all, Hunter’s usually off brooding, but the boy ain’t blind.

I’ve never liked games but I’ve managed to have volunteered myself as tribute to play a part in this one-on-one match Chase and I seem to be playing. I doubt I’ll come out a winner unless I start to bend his rules. Push him a little. Give him that nudge I mentioned at dinner when Monroe was goating him about me. About us. About what could be.

I dig my nails into my palms again, frustrated with him and this situation. A situation I can’t get out of because that boy stirs my soul and makes my heart beat. Don’t get me started on the fanny flutters. He’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I find a few girls from the showcase who I’ll be performing with next weekend and go say hello. I promise them I’ll come back and read the text on my watch from my brother. He’s in the kitchen and I maneuver through bodies to get to him.

“There you are, Sloaney,” he looks me over as I hand him my purse to hold while I shimmy out of my coat folding it over my arm that probably has bruises from that jerk.

“Let’s go lock these in your room, then you can get me a drink and we can properly toast to you bein’ at Havenwood,” he doesn’t make a move to lead us to his room and he’s giving me that look, letting me know he knows something is up.

“What’s goin’ on with you? Ya got this look on your face that’s makin’ my alarm bells go off,” he says in a worried way that fills me with guilt for not texting him, for lying to him, and for putting myself in harm”s way. And for hurting myself again.

“All’s well, now stop hoverin’ like Lucielle, and let’s put these away,” I tell him and he smiles when I mention our live-in nanny. That woman mothered and smothered us day in and day out and still calls us three days a week to check-in. She’s more maternal than our Mama and might as well have her helicopter license for all the hovering she does but I love her something fierce for it. As does Davis.

“Met your hockey player earlier. You failed to mention he drinks like a damn fish,” he says as we walk into his room and I put my coat and purse on his desk. I haven’t known Chase to drink but then again Evie and I steered clear of parties last semester.

“Really? That doesn’t sound like him at all,” I’m surprised. Whenever I’ve gotten wind of drunk hockey players, Monroe’s name is mentioned more than anyone else”s. He’s the team party boy, not Chase.

“Smelled like a liquor cabinet and has a chip on his shoulder,” he says while folding his arms over his chest. “You deserve better than some jackass.” He’s letting me know he already doesn”t like him.

Now Chase is a lot of things but I’ve never known him to be those things. The last thing I wanted was my brother and the man I can’t get out of my head to hate each other.

“Ya sure you met the right Wilton? Drinkin’ and bad attitudes sound more like Hunter than Chase,” I ask hoping it’s true.

“Nah, it was him, Drew introduced us himself.” He looks at me like he wants to say more but is hesitating.

“Cat got your tongue? Out with it, Davis, we’re not gettin’ any younger.” If he needs to get something off his chest he might as well do it now.

“I’m just thinkin’ that you may not know him as well as you think you do. Maybe you should just stay away from him, I’d hate to see ya end up with a broken heart.” I know he’s not trying to be harsh but his words hurt all the same.

I feel silly and small standing here considering how strong my feelings are for a man I really don’t know. Maybe my brother is right, maybe I do need to just let whatever this is between Chase and I burn off instead of burn bright.

Maybe I’m playing a game of solitaire after all. How could things have gotten this far for me when he’s still hanging back? I’ve been a fool and I have no one but to blame but myself. My heart might as well be a ping pong ball volleying back and forth as it’s hit repeatedly with paddles. My emotions are all over the place and I can’t keep up from one minute to the next.

I need to sit, I feel off balance with the heap of heavy revelations and realizations spinning in my head. My red-palmed hand grips my feather necklace and I run my thumb over the cool metal.

All I’m thinking about is cutting to release the pressure building up inside of me. My scarred and sliced thumb which has taken the brunt of razors over and over again rubs the pendant back and forth. One or two more won’t matter.

“Sloaney, talk to me,” Davis pleads. I know he knows I’ve been cutting. Pinching my skin, pressing my nails into myself. All of it. That I’m hiding it from him. I take a deep breath and the storm clouds in my head drift away. “I’m only tellin’ you all this so you can protect your heart. Don’t go gettin’ lost in your head over this guy.”

“We’re not datin’, we’re not anythin’, there’s nothin’ to stay away from because nothin’ is happenin’.” My accent is thick and the words taste and sound sour. I hate ‘em. I hate that it’s the truth, that he’s not mine, no matter how much I want him to be.

“Then why are ya settlin’ for scraps when you deserve the whole damn platter?” Is that what I’m doing? Am I misinterpreting being tied up in knots for really being strung along? I squeeze my hands together for the fourth time forming fists, exhaling my feelings through my nose. I haven’t seen Evie yet and already want to go home. This sacred Saturday is not turning out the way I wanted it to.

Davis reaches and takes my hands in his and rolls out my clenched fingers. I let out a shaky breath when he turns my palms over. I immediately try to ball them up again. To hide my demons and the darkest parts of myself.

“Let”s see ‘em,” he asks in a concerned whisper. I don’t want him to see, I don’t want him to know how screwed up I am. How good it feels when I hurt myself. There are now several rows of crescent marks lining my skin from all the hand squeezing I’ve been doing since I came back here. He ever so gently grazes his index finger over the marks.

“Sloaney, you can’t keep-,” he’s cut off by a loud banging on his door and one of his new teammates demanding he, “get his ass out here,” which we both ignore. “You can’t keep doin’ this to yourself-,” Now I cut him off.

I know what he’s trying to say, I’ve heard it a hundred times. I know I need to stop but I also know today isn’t the day it’ll happen. I can’t make him a promise today that I know I may break before the end of the night.

“I know, Davis, I know. I’ll keep tryin’, okay?” It’s the best I’ve got and it’s going to have to do. It’s going to have to be good enough for now. “Come on, let’s get you out there. I need to find Evie anyway.”

I don’t want to talk about this anymore tonight. I feel weak as it is. I’m stronger than this but don’t have anything left in me tonight. There’s zero wind left in my sails. Some liquid courage may do the trick, it’s a party after all, and I promised my best friend a good time.

“She looks real pretty tonight, if she didn’t have that boyfriend hangin’ off her, I would’ve made a move,” he says with a smile as I smack him in the chest. “You girls like your hockey players around here, huh? Must be somethin’ in the water,” he says with a smirk while we walk out of his room.

“Yeah, must be,” I mumble to myself thinking about that damn handsome devil who’s making me madder than a wet hen with all the dilly-dallying he does.

Davis locks his new bedroom door and we silently decide to keep all the heaviness and all the secrets I have behind that door for now. I text Evie to let her know I’m headed to the living room to find the showcase girls and dance. I shake out my hand and a shiver shoots up my spine, reminding me of how screwed up tonight is going.

I’m curious to see him when he’s drinking and to find out if alcohol is the turnkey to him letting his guard down. Part of me wishes I wasn’t feeling this way, especially after Davis shed light on the foundational cracks I’ve been pretending don’t matter. But feelings aren’t facts, and the facts are firm. I don’t really know him because he won’t let me in. My feelings for him can’t fill those gaps no matter how strong they are.

When I walked in here I wanted to feel his eyes warm my skin and have him make things right even if it was for right now. I knew he wouldn’t come to me but in the back of my mind, I thought I may be able to draw him out. I would bet all the money in my purse he would find me, he always does.

Before tonight I was fine with just having his eyes on me. Taking the pieces of him that he was willing to give. But now, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. If he doesn’t want to move forward with me, then I may need to let him go like Davis is suggesting and move on. Maybe it’s time to wave the white flag and quit whatever games we’re playing before I lose. Because you can’t lose somethin’ you never really had to start with.