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

Chapter 19

BETWEEN VOLUNTEERING BEING a shit show with my brother, fucking therapy, and practice drills, I’m not sure I can handle one more thing today. I’m fucking wrung out and the withdrawal of not seeing her all goddamn day is wearing thin on me.

I need a hit but this isn’t the place for me to get my fix of her. She’s gonna be up on that stage and so damn close, I have no fucking doubt I’ll overdose. My hands are fucking sweaty just thinking about the risk of giving in.

I take my seat next to Monroe and B sits down on the other side of me, with Max, A, and Drew filling up the rest of the second row. Oh fuck, she’s gonna be right fucking there. I slouch down into my seat and pull my hat down over my face so I can get my shit together.

“How was therapy today?” B gently whispers while pushing the brim of my hat up to the top of my head. I pull it back down as fast as I fucking can. I need it since I don’t have a fucking tree or a building to lurk behind.

“It was okay,” and it unexpectedly was.

“Wanna talk about anything?” she asks, but I’m really not ready to share anything yet.

“We”re just getting to know each other. First session you know?” She looks hopeful that I’ll stick with it this time and I give her a shaky smile.

“I’m really glad you’re going; I want you to know that.” Damn, that hits me right in the gut and fills me with fucking guilt. I’m willing to go back for another session but beyond that, I’m not sure.

When my therapist asked what brought me to therapy, I told her the truth: That I’m depressed. That I’m a shitty human, an awful brother, and all-around selfish prick.

Her eyebrows hid under her bangs when I explained how my terrible behavior led to my sister’s attacks and traumatic events. She listened for a while, like actually listened, when I talked, and didn’t seem to judge me for what I was sharing.

When she asked me if I was in a relationship with anyone, I told her no, but something must have indicated that it wasn’t the whole truth. She pressed me on it, but I didn’t say much else. I guess I didn’t want her impression of me to change if I told her I was in love with a girl who’s the best friend of my sister, who I’ve traumatized twice. I’d judge me too. I already do.

I’m lost in my head when the show starts, and the air is knocked outta me as soon as she takes center stage. This hit is so fucking strong, my heart booms in my chest when she starts singing Helpless from the Hamilton adaptation. I swear it’s as loud as the goddamn goal buzzer when I score on the ice.

She’s singing and it’s fucking beautiful. Her voice is full of rich tones and is so uniquely her. It’s music all on it’s own.

When she appears a few acts later looking like a fucking goddess, I can’t move. This hit is fucking paralyzing. It’s like I’m frozen inside of myself.

But that’s not what fucking scares me, no I’m afraid to miss a fucking second of seeing her like this. She looks like an angel of some magical forest standing up there in this alpine green form-fitting and flowy dress. She looks like she belongs in storybooks with happy endings.

The green material is tight against her pretty skin and I want to peel it away. The flowy skirt looks soft and I want to feel the material against my knuckles while my hands grip her thighs. She’s got her legs wrapped up in these tights that make her skin shimmer. I want them around my fucking head.

I’ve got zero fucking doubt I’m watching the girl of my dreams up on that stage. I’m floating on every high note she hits and falling for every lyric she sings. It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience sitting here.

“Fuck me, she’s hot,” Monroe says with a shit-eating grin on his face. I’m about to knock his ass out so he stops looking at her like that.

“Shut the fuck up, man,” I tell him through clenched teeth.

“Bro, it’s time for you to get your shit together with her. Don’t think I’m the only guy in this room who”s adjusting their dick right now.” Fucking assholes.

“Shhhh,” I glare at him and now I’m fucking aggravated that he distracted me from her.

I don’t know what she’s singing but it’s my new favorite song. Her eyes are like two shots of the world’s finest whiskey and I feel dizzy drinking them in as she stares at me. The lyrics float in the air around us and I try to make sense of them. “They’re about you, you idiot!” My devil yells and the angel doesn’t even try to argue. She’s just as enraptured with Sloane singing as I am.

I listen, really listen to what she”s saying, the way she’s moving, and how she’s looking at me. Her entire being; her heart, body, and soul are telling me about her and I.

?? And maybe I don’t quite know what to say, but I’m here in your doorway.??

I instantly think of that night last semester. She looked like a fucking fantasy standing in my bedroom doorway wearing green silk with that red hair swirling around her shoulders. I’ll never fucking forget it. She looked like Christmas…and I fucking love Christmas.

She’s like a sweet songbird up there. Like a pretty birdie. She croons out the chorus and looks so goddamn gorgeous, I can’t take it.

??I just wanted you to know that this is me trying. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying. ??

“I’m pretty sure she’s singing to you, sunshine,” Monroe says while leaning over and shaking my shoulder. I know she is, I can feel it.

She’s up on that stage performing for a crowd, but she’s singing to me. And fuck, is it beautiful. Her voice is powerful enough to light a match. This song sparks a flame that’ll eternally burn. She’s doing this for me. Fuck, she’s doing this for us.

When she belts out a high note, I swear I feel it all over. Those honey eyes look straight through me and snag on my beating heart, my hopeless soul, and every feeling I have for her. The angel on my shoulder continues to be enchanted. The devil is already whispering all the filthy things he wants me to do to her so she hits that high note again.

The audience erupts in cheers that rival the arena when we win a home game but to me, you could hear a fucking pin drop. The world has faded away except for her.

She finally tears herself away from me, and I feel the thread between us loosen. She curtseys for the crowd and some dickhead whistles from behind me. I hear him run his mouth, telling his buddy that she’s the redhead he was telling him about. That he’s calling dibs. Like fuck you are.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” I turn and growl out at some douchey-looking frat boy who has Greek letters embroidered on every piece of clothing he’s wearing. His hat, his scarf, his jacket. His tighty whities probably have Greek letters over his ass. Fucking turd.

I don’t give him a chance to respond and turn back around just in time. I swear it’s like we’re in fucking slow motion as her eyes lock on my face. I watch her lean forward and do the unthinkable. She blows me a goddamn kiss and it stops my heart like a lethal injection.

“OH MY GOD! Did you see what she just did? She sang you a song and let everyone in here know how she feels about you!” My sister screams in my ear and grabs my arm, shaking the crap outta me. “Hellooooo?! Earth to C! Did you hear me?” She asks with a huge fucking smile on her face.

I did hear her… I heard Sloane, too. And I always remember learning that a person’s hearing is the last thing to go before they die. That’s what this feels like. Like I’m dying inside my catatonic body. Because she feels something for me. And it’s fucking everything, but also not enough.

“You gonna do something about it now?” Monroe asks, lifting his chin to me. And I do… I panic.